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Yu hated lying.
He hated a lot of things and lying was high up on that list. But even if he held some inhibitions towards the concept of it, he couldn’t deny that it had become part of his daily routine. He lied to the Dojima’s about his other activities that preoccupied a large chunk of his time, to his friends whenever they believed the fiercely unwavering leader was just that— unwavering. He even lied to himself from time to time about feelings he couldn’t bear to confront. But beyond all that, the worst of the lying wasn’t what he directly said. It was the indirect . And it was towards one very important headphone wearing partner of his.
Yosuke.
He had attempted to come to terms with the fact that he was constantly lying to Yosuke, and it was killing him inside. A cacophony of guilt had begun to hang over his head for the past few months, a realization he wished he hadn’t made being the cause of it all. Their group was built on the foundation of vulnerability, after all seeing each other’s deepest held emotions was routine. Each shadow confronted peeled another layer of privacy between all of them, the thin veil of secrecy almost nonexistent within the strings of bonds. And yet there was one major exception to the rule– Yu. He never had a shadow nor did he find himself able to express himself easily. He was tight lipped– blank slated. If you were on the outside, you could even label him as emotionless. But just because he held his tongue didn’t mean he was unable to feel. It was just hard to feel safe enough to even dabble in the idea of exposing himself.
The realization that he was in love with Yosuke was as soul-crushing as it was freeing.
Lying was as easy as breathing when it came to him. Yu couldn’t escape the mortification of it all. They were supposed to be best friends and yet he was so quick to keep secrets between the two of them. It was shameful. They made such a stink about being open and honest and yet he was breaking that rule consistently. But the worst part wasn’t the guilt. It was the fact he’d do it all over again until his dying breath. He was steadily growing content with his deceit. No matter how horrified he felt, it would never spur him into admitting his truth.
It was easy loving Yosuke, scarily so. He made it easy. With his sun-blessed smile and his persistent attitude, there was nothing that could dissuade Yu from being head over heels. Every time he laughed, cried and expressed himself wholly without shame– it made him all the more alluring. He was everything Yu wasn’t, everything he couldn’t have. He was his other half, even if he didn’t believe himself to be it. There wasn’t Yosuke without Yu, nor Yu without Yosuke. Their relationship couldn’t be defined by simple words. It was so much more than that. And it wasn’t only him who saw it– the rest of Inaba itself could tell there was something deeper to the two. They’d rarely see one without the other. They were a well oiled machine, a two headed monster with one body, two halves of a heart beating in unison.
And yet, even with all their complexities, Yu had added an extra sheet of complications within their intricacies. But unlike their usual battles, this one was one that he had to fight alone. He wouldn’t dare let the object of his affections be in the know to the internal war he was undergoing. Especially not when his partner made his own feelings about the subject of same-sex attraction loud and clear. That was another aspect of Yu's confidentiality. If he spoke of how he felt, he could be faced with something even worse than hatred.
Disgust.
He wouldn’t know what to do with himself if Yosuke ever looked at him with repulsion for how he felt. Even rationalizing couldn’t aid him with his absurdity. Yosuke had apologized to Kanji for how he behaved long ago, Yu even aided him with rehearsing what he’d say. He was taking action to unlearn his tendencies. It added fuel to the fire, furthering his respect and admiration for him. But if there was even a slim chance Yosuke could regress and face him with abhorrence in his eyes, Yu would rather live in the cold dark of familiarity. If he kept quiet, Yosuke wouldn’t change. They wouldn’t change. They could be the same partners they always were.
So Yu kept quiet. It was his entire identity, after all. It was all he knew.
He only learned what it meant to be loud when he got to Inaba. To take up space unashamedly and allow himself the freedom of making himself known. His parents were the silent types, only speaking when absolutely necessary. They weren’t doing it out of maliciousness or punishment, but they simply didn’t talk much. It was a fact– a way of life for Yu. They didn’t pressure him much beyond his grades being above average, but they were away a lot. He never got used to people being around for too long. Days were spent in his empty home by his lonesome and nights were spent in the chill of his room with no warmth or a presence to comfort him. He didn’t realize what he was missing before he was sent off to a small town with a family he barely knew in a rural area that was brand new to him.
But then he was taught what boisterous love was. Acceptance without expectations and people who would talk to him just because they could, not because they had to. He had unlocked a new side to him that he never even realized he had. It was all thanks to his family and friends. And Yosuke.
Yosuke had his own section in Yu’s mind– he was the first person he met outside of his family. Outside of the random residents living in Inaba. He couldn’t fathom that saving a stranger from a trash can would lead him to meeting the love of his life. From the first bond he formed to his second-in-command to his partner and now a fundamental force in his life, there was no denying the impact the clumsy and bumbling boy had on him. He had been the noisest person Yu had ever met, vocal in everything he did with a volume button that couldn’t seem to be turned down. A life full of silence was a life Yu lived until a shattering presence filled the empty gaps with sound. He’d do anything to ensure he’d never return to that void of quiet ever again.
But it was inevitable that he would, his time in Inaba was running out quicker than he’d like and there wasn’t anything he could do about it. He was going to lose Yosuke’s noise. The thought of it nearly broke him into a cold sweat.
He’d lose his noise even faster if he declared his honest feelings too. There were multiple roads down to doom, and Yu had to tiptoe his way around the routes to dodge ruin. Many things were eating him up inside, but none could hold a candle to lying to Yosuke. It had been keeping him up at night, stuck in a frenzied state of panic and tightly wired nerves. But there was nothing he could do about it either– he was in a vicious cycle of self inflicted sabotage. Destruction of his own creation for the sake of himself and Yosuke. He could only fear how untrustworthy he’d become if he found out he’d been lying the entire time as well. He could picture the devastation on Yosuke’s face– he’d speak of betrayal and hurt, and then he would leave him.
Yu wasn’t used to people sticking around often. He never had any friends before coming to Inaba and his parents often went on business trips. Isolation was all he knew, and desperation was created in order to keep those who provided him with something more than an empty doorway around. He wouldn’t be able to live if they fled from him, especially Yosuke. Speaking of Yosuke… He had temporarily forgotten he was in class, the endless chatter of students catching up and discussing homework was white noise for him to get distracted to.
“Guys… I think he’s out to lunch.”
“Gah! Don’t talk about lunch, Yosuke! I totally missed breakfast this morning, my stupid alarm clock didn’t go off. I’m so hungry I could die!”
“You can share my lunch with me, Chie. The head chef packed extras for me, I think he noticed that I’ve been asking for seconds more often.”
“Yukiko… Has anyone ever told you how amazing you are?”
His friends’ voices had muddled in between the idle conversations in the background, Yu had fazed out quite some time ago. It took a few finger snaps to the face to break him out of it, and he blinked a few times to refocus back into reality. His head turned upwards to see Yosuke’s concerned expression as he leaned against his wooden desk. His eyes flickered to see Chie and Yukiko’s expressive dialogue– they clearly were in a world of their own.
The two boys didn’t need words to talk between one another, they were so in-tune that simple looks and glances were enough to convey a whole discussion. The frown on Yosuke’s face coupled with the way his brows would furrow when he was attempting to decipher whatever was in his mind and his down-casted eyes, it was a recipe that ended with a result of wondering what was up with Yu. The silver-haired boy simply shook his head, a gesture that meant nothing was wrong. That he was okay. Yosuke’s eyebrow quirked up in a way that conveyed complete disbelief. Yu gave a small shrug in response and went to gather his things in the meanwhile.
Chie and Yukiko gave their best wishes before heading out, their talks of hitting up Aiya after school trailing behind them like a cloud of excitement. The rest of the students began flowing out of the class doorway and subsequently out of the school entirely– and the only two bodies left within the room were Yosuke and Yu.
Yu stood up quietly, holding his briefcase in one hand and the other stuffed into his uniform pants pocket. He should’ve expected a certain caramel haired partner of his to prohibit him from leaving, though. A body had blocked the doorway in its entirety and all Yu could do was stare in slight surprise at Yosuke’s theatrics.
“Something’s up with you, man. I don’t know what, but something’s wrong,” Yosuke huffed, his expression one of frustration and worry.
Here he was, in all of his confrontative glory. The others would have detected that Yu had something stirring in him, but none could figure it out as quickly as Yosuke could have. His understanding of their leader was so intrinsic and guttural that even thinking that he wouldn’t catch on was wishful thinking.
Yu merely shook his head, against the very idea that he had something holding him down. It wasn’t noticeable to anyone else, but it was noticeable to Yosuke. And he was the last person he wanted to notice.
“You were all fazed out. Like you just… Weren’t there. I just…” Yosuke paused his words, clearly mulling his choice of phrase carefully. “If you wanna talk about it, I’m here. I know everyone depends on you and we think you can’t be affected by things but you’re still a person. And we want you to be okay. I know I’m not the best with stuff like this, but lean on me. I’m with you for a reason.”
Yosuke’s earnest nature was hard to ignore, and even harder to turn down. Yu felt bile rising in his throat as he gave a soft nod to try and placate Yosuke. What other option did he have– he couldn’t admit to the real issues plaguing him.
“I know. I’m fine. Thanks, Yosuke,” Yu weakly said with a smile. His words were straightforward and limited, but curated and pointed.
He had lied to Yosuke once more. The burning sensation in his chest never left from his accursed actions.
Yu gave another signal in the form of a glance past Yosuke’s form– a gentle cue for him to move. Yosuke abided by his leader’s wants– he always did. And Yu was taking advantage of it. How sickening. He shifted carefully through the gap between Yosuke and the doorway and took his leave through the halls. His dark loafers clacked with every step, a resounding echo pervasing the corridor as he headed for the staircase to get to the first floor. He hadn’t realized Yosuke caught up though until he spotted an extra pair of beat up shoes walking in tandem with him. Yu glanced back up, looking at Yosuke who was on his left side quizzically.
“Just thought you’d wanna walk home together. For once, my manager didn’t call me early. So we gotta make the most of this, yeah?” Yosuke winked, appearing so sincere, his bright brown eyes swirled with an eagerness to be by his partner’s side. Yu felt as if he was condemning himself to the depths of Hell when he shook his head, against the idea. He couldn’t bear to suffer anymore for the rest of the day, and as much as he loved Yosuke, he was the sole cause of his ache.
Yosuke’s face visibly dropped when he was denied. Almost as if he had been told they failed to capture the killer they worked so hard to uncover. He couldn’t even look Yu in the eye after it, the floor had taken his attention fully and he muttered a sad excuse of understanding under his breath. All Yu could do was watch his partner quicken his steps down the stairs, shoving the old pair of iconic headphones over his ears sharply. He took off without hesitation.
Yu stood on the last step of the staircase, the fog of his brain returning to drown him under the weight of his agony. He had hurt Yosuke– he had done the last thing he’d ever want to do. Some might call both of their reactions as overkill– but when one had a fear of rejection and the other the fear of mishandling relationships, their overreactions made sense.
It was empty on the first floor. It was quiet there too.
Yu hated the quiet.
Rock skipping on the riverbank at Samegawa was less fun when it was just Yu by himself.
He wasn’t sure why he came down here– he had been on autopilot since his departure from Yasogami and before he realized, he had made himself present there. But the real reason was creeping in him, akin to sludge drooling down, threatening to take him whole. The Flood plains were his and Yosuke’s spot. They’d come down often to hang out, idly chat or beat each other up. It was full of realizations and confrontations. It was where they shared their first hug, much to Yosuke’s embarrassing dismay, and Yosuke’s demands of physical harm for equalizing. They’d shared a copious amount of moments there, and when Yu was plagued with too much, he’d come down to have a moment to himself. To bask in Yosuke’s presence, in something concrete and true. Yosuke would never waiver with him, and in retrospect it taught him to never waiver in himself.
But that sentiment wasn’t always honored. Especially not when basking in his presence was the reason he was in this mess.
Naturally, Yu knew that confiding in someone– anyone would help relieve him of a fraction of his love-filled anguish, but that meant exposing himself on a deeper level. His friends knew him but they didn’t know him. He kept a lot hidden, not on purpose but because he was used to focusing on others and less on himself. He was an asset to be used, sharing things about himself wasn’t needed. But that wasn’t to say they were unaware of him. The Investigation Team knew enough, and they loved him. Most of Inaba loved him. But they were the main priority– his everything. He knew he could trust them with anything– but trusting them wasn’t the issue. It was trusting himself.
His flip phone had graced his vision as he absentmindedly flipped through his abundant amount of contacts. Obviously Nanako was out of the picture– she was six years old after all. A child couldn’t comprehend the nuances to love like this. His uncle was also out of the picture, he loved him but his emotional bandwidth was the size of a walnut. And he still most likely held a grudge against Yosuke for getting his nephew almost locked up in prison barely a month into his stay at Inaba.
Chie would accidentally blabber out his secret or make fun of him for falling for Yosuke of all people the entire time, Yukiko would be too embarrassed to be coherent due to her lack of romance experience.
Kanji would understand his point of view but he’d suggest something too outlandish or be overly obtuse to everything. Rise would give good advice if not for her extremely obvious crush on Yu, and it seemed almost sadistic to ask her for help with romance when it wasn’t about her.
Teddie would be too overly eager and excitable to the point where any type of meaningful discussion would be a failure. Naoto would look at everything too objectively, which was a bad pairing when Yu was also the objective type. It would be too detached of a conversation.
Or maybe Yu was purposefully finding the worst in his friends so he could have an excuse to not talk to anyone. He felt even more guilty about what he was subconsciously doing. His friends didn’t deserve his misplaced perspective. They all could provide valuable insight if given the chance, and Yu wasn’t giving them the opportunity for it.
There were countless others who could whip him into shape– Ai, Kou, Daisuke, Adachi, and more. Although some were less reliable than others and divulging such intimate details was intimidating. He inevitably gave up on the endeavor of reaching out, he wasn’t planning on taking action towards that route anyways. It was merely self indulgence on something that would never come to fruition.
So instead he was solidifying his resolve to keep to himself. It was all he knew. It was easier on everyone.
His phone pinging caught him off guard, a notification popping up with blaring alarms. Rise had taken his phone a few weeks ago during a team meet up and gave everyone specific ringtones on Yu’s phone. The silly frog croaking sound effect had clued Yu in on who was reaching out even before he read the name on the notification. Yosuke had sent him a message. He still hadn’t fully shaken off his autopilot state so without much thought, he opened it up. He couldn’t ignore it now, Yosuke had insisted on read receipts long ago– he was locked into the interaction. A small part of him was relieved to see what he’d say, even if it was being suffocated down by his overwhelming sense of dread.
Yosuke
Where r u, prntr?
4:32 pm
Why?
4:34 pm
Yosuke
Idk
4:35 pm
Yosuke
I jst wanna kno
4:35 pm
Yosuke must’ve seen bubbles indicating typing pop in and out with frequency. Yu’s hesitance to even disclose where he was– it was a weight unlike any other.
Yosuke
Nvm man
4:42 pm
Yosuke
Jst ignore me. Dw abt it. I’ll see u in school on Monday
4:42 pm
Samegawa.
4:45 pm
Yosuke
K
4:46 pm
The ominous acknowledgement made Yu grow weary, but Yosuke was most likely checking in in case he went off running somewhere. The group made it routine to know where the others were at all times, and so he assumed it was an instance of that instead of anything deeper.
He returned his phone to its rightful spot in his pocket and sat with his knees tucked into his chest. Yu’s hair swayed lightly in the breeze, what was supposed to be a comforting breath of fresh air was nothing more than a secretive pressure of all he had done wrong. How could he face Yosuke after consistently lying? Betraying his trust, doing him wrong. Not regretting for holding his internal strife to himself. He was doing all he could to ensure Yosuke was kept close at all costs. Even at the cost of himself.
Every time they were labeled as just friends, introducing Yosuke as someone who was simply just a comrade to him, it was all lies and falsehoods. Sharing their relationship as such felt like an immense disservice. Something that shouldn’t be. If it was up to Yu, they’d be so much more. He wouldn’t be able to yell it from the rooftops like he wanted to, but he’d be able to tell those of their friendship while knowing there was more to them behind closed doors.
But that was greedy, and Yu couldn’t be greedy. It was unrealistic to entertain the thoughts that there could be more present. Yu was content with what they had, he was forced to be. And when he moved back to Tokyo, he wouldn’t have to deal with these feelings as fiercely as he did.
Yu was in mid-throw of a rock into the river beyond them before a sudden voice cut through his exhaustion.
“You’re skipping rocks without me? First you ditch me and next you’re all by yourself in our spot? If I didn’t know you as well as I do, I would’ve thought you hated me.”
Yosuke’s voice rang out as he took a seat beside Yu. The latter stiffened up instinctively which Yosuke noticed and frowned at. His hands moved to rest his headphones at the swell of his neck before he grabbed his own stone to chuck at the water in front of them. He hadn’t made an attempt to skip it. Almost as if he was fed up with everything.
Their silences were rarely awkward. It was either filled uselessly with Yosuke’s chattiness or comfortable quiet where they were doing their own things. But never awkward. They both had things they wished to say, but nothing would effectively come out. There was an undercurrent of refusal to engage and refusal to admit that created a tense atmosphere. The dark grey clouds weren’t helping either, it covered the town in dull listlessness. The weather seemed to perfectly replicate how Yu was feeling. The longer they went without speaking, the more uncomfortable they felt. It was unfamiliar.
“Did I do something wrong?” Yosuke suddenly spoke, his question straining heavily on him. His face was contorted in tightness. He had seemingly let everything Yu had done reflect on himself. He should’ve figured the boy riddled with insecurities would have an instance like this hit harder.
Yu shook his head, completely against his statement. Yosuke couldn’t do wrong in his eyes– not when it came to him. He was human, he made mistakes. Constantly. But it was nothing he couldn’t come back from, and witnessing him changing and growing was a blessing. Yu was reverent, he adored the boy next to him. They were kindred spirits, but to think he had inadvertently made Yosuke feel as if he caused wrongdoing. He was used to that though, everyone automatically assumed that whenever anything went wrong, Yosuke was the root for it. It must’ve taken a toll on him.
“Then what’s up? It almost feels like you’re ignoring me. Which you aren’t, we’ve hung out a lot recently. Do you not trust me anymore? I thought I showed that we’re equals… I tell you stuff and you tell me stuff,” Yosuke shifted to face Yu, his torso contorting from his seated angle to do so. Yu’s head was still stuffed into his knees, but he was alert enough to swipe a few glances at Yosuke’s direction. He gave a light sigh and slowly allowed his head to rise, his arms still locked around his knees for stability but still postured as if he was a wind up toy about to pop.
“That’s… Not it,” Yu replied, his voice subdued, riddled with distress from indirectly causing these feelings in Yosuke. “It’s hard to talk about.”
“Try me. I’ll understand you.”
Yu fell silent once more, his teeth finding purchase on the skin in his cheek. He nearly made himself bleed from the pressure before he let go and tightened his lips.
“You mean everything to me,” Yu whispered, surprising even himself from his admission. The normally curated version of him went out the window and he wasn’t sure who was in the driver's seat, but he wasn’t sure he liked it.
He turned to look at Yosuke who looked as if he was sucker punched. The surprise on his face conveyed that he hadn’t expected that to be at the center of all Yu’s turmoil.
“Is that… You mean everything to me too, partner. Is that really what you’ve been all wound up about?” There was a gentleness to Yosuke that was reserved only for You. There were parts of themselves that no one else was allowed to hold witness to. It was only when it was the two of them alone that their truest and rawest selves were allowed to exist. Free of judgement and of themselves.
Yu gave a small hum in response. It wasn’t necessarily the root of it all. But what was one more lie directly to Yosuke’s face.
“I didn’t think I could care so much about another person. You were the first person to make me care. I’m scared about the possibility of something going wrong between us… That somehow, someway, you end up hating me,” the floodgates began to pour, non-stopping and unrelenting. He was omitting specific things, but his concerns were real and true.
Yosuke was visibly taken aback before he began to soften, his head returning to the point of the river as he idly watched waves crash and rock between the dock and the shoreline. He was internalizing everything Yu spoke of, how his own thoughts were so easily verbalized. That Yu had the power to say what he thought without fear or a flustered tongue stopping him.
“You totally stole my line, Yu,” Yosuke feebly chuckled, shaking his head absentmindedly. “I don’t think there’s anything in this world that could make me hate you. Not when you’re you. You didn’t just save me, but you’ve saved so many other people. How could I hate a guy like that?”
“If you knew everything, you might.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
But Yu refused to elaborate, and Yosuke was left dangling off a cliff of vagueness.
“Look, I meant what I said. Without you, I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t be someone you and me could be proud of. I still have work to do but I wanna work on it. Not just for me, but for you too. And I’ll need you by my side to do it. You don’t gotta tell me what’s bugging you, but like I told you before, I’m here for you. We’re best friends. Partners. Always and forever, kay?”
Too much. It was all too much. This was what Yu desperately craved– what he yearned for. What he sought after. Yosuke’s affections, his respect and his genuineness. But it was all in the wrong way. He wanted to scream at him that he got it all wrong. They could be so much more if Yu simply spoke of his adoration. If Yosuke was willing to entertain him. Even if he didn’t harbor romantic feelings, Yosuke could grow to like him too. He just needed a chance. Yu was taking advantage of his kindness, he didn’t deserve to fall in love with someone so wonderful. Yosuke didn’t need that extra burden on his already heavy shoulders. Yu’s thoughts were merciless and refused to give him an ounce of breathing room. His mind contorted itself into a harsh hurricane, keeping him dazed and off kilter. But where his mind was preoccupied, his body was not.
Suddenly gravity took a hold of him and he found himself in the crook of something unfamiliar. Wispy strands tickled his nose and the darkness of his eyes being closed made him unaware of what, or rather who he was lying on. He could feel the hard object under his head tense rapidly.
“U-Uh… Yu? Are you okay? We don’t really do this kinda stuff…” The end tail of Yosuke’s sentence trailed off under his mumbling breath, but he hadn’t moved beyond his strained state. He was allowing Yu to remain in the crook of his neck, pressed up against his arm and side to hide away from the world. And most importantly, hide away from himself.
Yosuke didn’t get a response, it was always a gamble on if Yu would say anything or remain hushed. Although he had managed to coax the most talkative form he could get compared to everyone else on the Investigation Team. So instead of pressing, his body deflated with a heavy breath in order to relax and gather his bearings together.
If Yu was aware of himself, he would’ve chided what he had done. But he was too tired to muster up enough energy to care. He instead kept his eyes closed and used the extremely rare moment of physical vulnerability to memorize every inch of what he was lucky enough to get. He could smell the Junes purchased bar of soap Yosuke used, the undertone of citrusy orange was prevalent enough to sting his sense of smell. Yosuke’s shampoo was just as basic, but it was so painfully him that he committed it to memory. So that any time Yu passed the toiletry section of Junes, he’d know how Yosuke smelled.
Yosuke’s neck was soft, the headphones angled in a way that dug into Yu’s collarbone in an uncomfortable manner, but he couldn’t care much about it. Every breath that came from Yu’s slightly parted lips brushed against his neck, earning a small squirm in the process.
The two of them stayed like that for a few minutes, not speaking– merely existing. Whether it was from enjoying what they were doing, or refusing to speak because they’d have to acknowledge their actions, neither of them could tell. But they didn’t need to. Yu was content with even that– he knew he couldn’t get more and he dared not to even try. He was taking his wins where he could get them.
But then he felt fingers inch towards his on the grassy plain below. The body heat was an indicator before he felt the brushing of skin and finally the interlocking of fingers. Yu had not a clue what Yosuke was up to, but if he called it out, he’d surely retract and pretend it didn’t happen. And he wasn’t strong enough to handle that. All he could do was push his hand closer to Yosuke and thank whatever Gods above for the gift of what was occurring. Perhaps it was salvation for his self sacrifices. For all his self punishment. For once, he was getting something good.
The Samegawa Flood Plains were where Yu and Yosuke would stay for the rest of the afternoon. Engulfed in nothing except each other. What they were doing had to be discussed– it wasn’t very platonic to be as cuddled up as they were. But for now, they could keep it quiet. Not engage. It was enough for Yu, anyways. He would take anything. He was starving for so long, this felt as if he had gotten a meal after days of hunger. He wasn’t sure if they would acknowledge this. He assumed Yosuke would pretend it never happened, and Yu would happily play along.
But maybe it meant something that Yosuke would indulge him on this. Maybe for once, Yu didn’t need to rely on daydreams.
Whatever the future held for them, Yu knew one thing for certain. He’d do everything in his power to keep Yosuke around.
He’d make sure of it.