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Yusuke pursed her lips and tilted her head from side to side, inspecting the symmetry of her makeup. “Certainly not my finest work,” she thought aloud, but she was already running late and could spare no time for corrections. She tightened the ribbon holding her braid in place, adjusted her belt, and grabbed the tote bag hanging in the entryway as she exited her apartment.
Once outside, Yusuke mentally checked off each item she’d brought with her. Keys, check; prints, check; face paint, check— “Wallet!”
Sure enough, she’d left it on the kitchen counter next to a bowl of wax fruit. “If you keep buyin’ shit just to use for paintin’, you’re never gonna eat any of it,” Ryuji had said, and he was right. When Yusuke finally made the switch, it slipped her mind to inform him of it. One apple now faced the center of the pile, and Ryuji still regarded the bowl with scorn over a year later.
Light. Did I forget to turn off the bathroom light? Yusuke contemplated as she took her seat on the train. She closed her eyes, retracing her steps. No… no, I believe I did. It was too late to check; the train was already moving, so she crossed her fingers that she wouldn’t come home to a needlessly expensive electrical bill.
Occasional commissions could keep a roof over her head for now, but not forever. In between studying and selling her pieces, Yusuke worked part-time at the Crossroads (the result of a referral from Ren and his infinite connections). Finding a job had been a consistent source of anxiety for her—as a trans woman, and as someone permanently connected to Madarame. She couldn’t afford to be picky with what little opportunities she had.
Ren insisted she was perfect for the job, and Yusuke trusted his judgement. He’d never let her down before, and this was no exception. Besides being with the thieves, she’d never felt so validated in her identity than nights spent at the Crossroads. Pretty soon, that confidence extended beyond her shifts as well.
Today, Yusuke wore a short, pink-and-blue-striped romper with a pair of white ankle boots. It wasn’t particularly revealing, but for a girl who wore hoodies to the beach in the middle of summer, it was significantly more than what she was used to.
Yusuke periodically crossed and uncrossed her legs, alternating between setting her tote to the side and resting it across her lap. You’re okay, no one is staring at you, she reassured herself. Only three stops left. Rational thinking, however, didn’t rid every ounce of uncertainty from her mind.
Though her scars wouldn’t go away entirely, they’d faded to small shadows on her skin; whispers of a past she’d promised never to go back to. Two years, three months, and ten days. No more gauze, no more antiseptic, and no more excuses for why she’d sat further from everyone else in the bathhouse.
It took an ironclad will for Yusuke to ride the train all the way to her destination, but she did, thanks in part to a few last-minute messages from Ryuji.
Love <3: packed two of everything just in case
Love <3: this is so exciting!!! i cant wait to see u
Me: I’m looking forward to today as well.
Me: Just got off the train. I should be there in a couple minutes.
Love <3: sweet!!!
She was greeted by his mother, Sakamoto Mei, who had plenty to say while Ryuji finished getting ready. “You’re absolutely stunning, dear! Give me a spin- perfect! Your eyeliner is so smooth, oh, and those boots—”
“Mom, you’re smotherin’ her!” came Ryuji’s muffled voice from the bathroom.
“You’re the one keeping her waiting!”
“Actually,” Yusuke clarified, “I have something I’d like to try before we leave.” She fished the face paint out of her bag and knocked on the door. “Ryuji? May I come in?”
“Sure- wait, just gimme a sec- okay, now you can!”
He sat on the edge of the counter, adjusting the adhesives over his chest. His shirt, a color inversion of Yusuke’s own outfit, hung open, and she averted her eyes from his toned stomach. “I- uh- paint- I have the face paint you requested.”
“Cool!” He whipped his head around, and instantly flushed several shades darker. “That’s… new.”
“Yes, I purchased it recently with Ann. Do you like it?”
“Like it? Um- you- yeah. You look great.” He rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling nervously. “Shit, you’re really pretty.”
Yusuke twirled the end of her braid. “T-thank you. You’re quite handsome yourself.”
She blotted her brush in the pink pigment while Ryuji repositioned himself, legs dangling off the side. Yusuke raised an accusing eyebrow. “Do you think you can sit still long enough for me to apply this?”
“Pshh, ‘course I can,” he replied, but the moment the brush touched his cheek, his face scrunched up involuntarily. “Sorry- sorry, I can’t help if it—snrk—tickles!”
“As I suspected.” She leaned closer, painting a purple stripe underneath the pink one. Ryuji squirmed, and she held his chin firmly in place. Her hands were steady, and her grip unyielding, despite his best efforts to wiggle free. A final touch-up of blue, and she was done. “There. Was that so hard?”
“Yeah, it kinda was. I thought I was gonna sneeze.”
“And if you did, I’d start again.”
“God, no, I ain’t sittin’ through that more than once.”
“You’re being dramatic,” Yusuke sighed, applying another thin layer of lipstick. “One more thing.” She cradled Ryuji’s face and kissed his forehead, leaving a bright blue mark behind.
He examined the mark in the mirror, dabbing it with his finger. “Is this if we get separated? ‘Hey, I’m lookin’ for a girl wearin’ lipstick in the shade of the big smudge on my forehead. Can’t miss her.’”
“I was thinking more along the lines of a signature for my work, but that’s also fitting.”
Her phone buzzed. It was the group chat, wondering where they were.
Ren: are we in the right spot? i don’t see you
Me: Apologies, we’re running a bit late. I had some difficulties applying Ryuji’s face paint.
Ryuji had evidently pulled his phone out as well.
Love <3: HEY
Love <3: ITS NOT MY FAULT IM TICKLISH
Goro: Don’t expect us to wait another half-hour for you.
Goro: This place is already packed. We’d probably lose sight of each other anyway.
Ren: booo we’re staying until they get here
“What a downer,” Ryuji groaned. “It’s almost scary how different he is around you and Ren, but I guess I can at least relate to him on that front. Likin’ you two so much, I mean.” Yusuke feigned confusion. “Don’t pretend he didn’t just invite you to Jazz Jin. Goro doesn’t do that for any ol’ thief.” He zipped up his bag. “I swear, you bring out the best in everyone, Yu.”
They said their goodbyes to Mei, who needed at least five photos before she let them leave. “Bring me back something fun~”
Yusuke very quickly found her place within the family. Sakamoto Mei was everything she could’ve wanted from her own mother, and Yusuke’s paintings lined the walls alongside Ryuji as a chubby-cheeked toddler. Though she’d decided not to go on estrogen, at least for now, Mei promised she’d support Yusuke any way she could during her transition.
Sometimes, while drifting off to sleep at night, Yusuke fantasied about a life officially under the Sakamoto name—as Mei’s daughter-in-law.
Futaba: almost there ugh theres too many people
Futaba: train stopped when i wasnt expecting and i almost fell on some dudes lap
Ren: yay!
Ren: the almost there part not the random guy part
Ren: is sumi with you?
Sumire: Yes! Neither of us could get a seat unfortunately.
Futaba: is this what pinballs feel like
Goro: Maybe if you held onto something instead of texting, you wouldn’t have that problem.
Futaba: >:T
They passed a few people walking in the same direction. One wore a dress with the lesbian colors tie-dyed on it, while another boasted top surgery scars underneath a fishnet top. The couple smiled and waved at them, and Yusuke passed out some of her prints.
She’d done a series of subtle, scenic paintings—flower fields, rolling hills, ocean waves—all coordinated to match a specific pride flag. It was Ann who’d initially suggested it: “So you can celebrate your identity without the awkward conversations. Plus, who doesn’t wanna look at a lesbian sunset?”
Speaking of which…
Ann: Tokyo Pride, here we come!!!
[Image attached: A selfie; Ann smiles while Makoto and Shiho kiss her on both cheeks.]
Ren: cute!!! you three are actually perfect together <333
Makoto: I can’t remember the last time I took a day off. This feels great!
Love <3: gross, i forgot you were taking summer classes
Ann: The grind never stops!!!
Me: Did Haru make those flower crowns? They’re lovely.
Haru: I did!
Haru: Finding the right colors was rather challenging, so I ended up having to grow most of them myself. You’re always welcome to some!
Love <3: hell yeah bisexual flowers
Love <3: like two minutes away rn
[Image attached: Sumire waving rainbow ribbons, one leg raised above her head.]
Sumire: I came prepared!
[Image attached: Futaba posing with one of the ribbons as a mustache, one leg barely raised. She’s leaning against a table for support.]
Futaba: so did i >:)
Ryuji and Yusuke swam with the colorful crowd into the busy streets of Shibuya, knitting their fingers together so they didn’t risk getting separated. This wasn’t a problem for the pair; they’d take any excuse to hold on tighter.
Eventually, they spotted Ren waving at them from a distance. He’d draped his other arm around Goro’s shoulders, whose stare was as cold as Yusuke’s Persona. But she knew better than to assume the worst. There wasn’t any malice in his eyes. Yusuke had seen him at most volatile, and this was mere annoyance by comparison. A “resting bitch face,” as Futaba bluntly put it.
After his official retirement from the “Detective Prince” label, Goro became more open about his disdain for socializing, which they certainly had in common. Forced gallery appearances and ego-driven interviews drained Yusuke’s patience for years, and the Phantom Thieves unfortunately met her during a particularly aggravating slump. Upon Goro’s return, she, against her better judgement, grew closer to the former assassin through the strange traumatic link they shared. After all, it very well could’ve been her behind that Black Mask.
“I hope you’re doing well today, Goro.”
“Hardly. I don’t see the point in any of this.”
Before Ryuji could protest, Yusuke replied, “I understand. We can stick to the sidelines if it’d make you more comfortable. The atmosphere here is admittedly quite suffocating.”
“Yeah, totally,” Ren agreed. “If you need to tap out early, just let me know.”
Goro’s response was calculated, but hinted at a genuine gratitude. “Thank you… for your concern. I think I’ll be alright for now.”
The others began trickling in: Ann, Makoto, Haru, and Shiho, then Futaba and Sumire. Morgana stayed over at Haru’s place every so often, including the previous night, and he stuck his head out of her bag in a pair of tiny sunglasses.
“You like?”
“Oh. My. Gosh. That’s so adorable!” Ann squealed, and Morgana purred at her praise. He’d (almost) gotten past his crush, but she was still the first person he looked to for approval.
With the Phantom Thieves finally reunited, the festivities were in full swing. Yusuke continued to give away her prints, Ann and Futaba made a mad dash to a stall selling taiyaki, Makoto and Haru flipped through informational pamphlets given to them by a drag queen in a feather boa, and Shiho and Sumire were transfixed by a group of stilt-walking acrobats.
Ren and Goro shared a plate of street food on the curb. Goro leaned into his boyfriend’s side, admiring his enthusiastic ramblings. It was probably the closest he’d get to being ‘in his element’ at an event like this, so Yusuke let them be.
“Didya put on sunscreen this mornin’?” Ryuji asked.
“Hmm… no, it must have slipped my mind.”
Even after years of separation from Madarame, she often overlooked simple things like sunscreen and, as Ryuji unloaded his bag, drinking enough water. He set the bottles down and she snatched one up, chugging half of it. Yusuke hadn’t realized just how dehydrated she was until she… remembered she could be. It was difficult to explain, and typically treated as nothing more than a lazy excuse back then, but it was the truth. Ryuji wouldn’t scold her for it, nor would he forget to remind her next time.
Yusuke leaned forward, letting her braid fall over her shoulder. Ryuji unscrewed the bottle, and she braced herself for a cold, unpleasant sensation, but was instead greeted to soft kisses trailing up her neck.
She couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up inside her. “That’s not sunscreen,” she teased.
“You’re right, ‘s not.”
“I have no complaints, though.”
“Good.”
Ryuji snaked his arms around her waist, holding her closer. He knew it was her favorite spot to be kissed, or rather, almost her favorite- there. There it was. Just below her ear, in the groove of her jaw. Yusuke could fuss all she wanted about Ryuji’s ticklishness, but when he touched that spot, she became absolute mush.
Ryuji, of course, exploited the hell out of it.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, not meaning it in the slightest. “Did I do somethin’ wrong?”
“Ryuji.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.”
“I didn’t… I’m not asking you to…” Ryuji got the memo. They sunk to the ground, and Yusuke turned to face him. “Is this your plan? Ignoring the festivities for me? An event like this only happens once a year, and you can kiss me any day.”
“You’re the one who said you had no complaints.”
“I don’t, but wouldn’t you rather spend time with the others? Ann and Shiho won’t be in town much longer, and Ren’s traveling back to Inaba soon.”
“I’m not in a hurry, Yu. I’ll get my chance eventually. ‘Sides, today’s supposed to be ‘bout celebratin’ what you’re proud of, and I’m proud of you.” He brushed her bangs to the side and kissed her temple. “You’ve come so far from when we first met. You’re eatin’ better, you’re kinder to yourself, you’re here, confident as ever, as my girlfriend. You…” He placed his hand on her thigh. “You’ve been clean for over two years, Yusuke. I’m so proud of you.”
Yusuke went from laughing to crying in a matter of seconds, and it was hard to recover from the emotional whiplash. “I-I wish I had something more eloquent prepared. You mean everything to me, Ryuji. Call it cliché, but you’re my sun, my world, the light at the end of the tunnel. You saved my life.”
Ryuji shook his head. “Nah, I won’t take credit for that. Everyone pitched in—you, most of all. You wouldn’t’ve improved if you didn’t do most of the heavy liftin’.” His gaze shifted to the ground. “I, uh, haven’t really brought it up, ‘cause I didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable, but you’ve never worn anythin’ like this before.” He gestured to her outfit, and she continued twirling her braid. “You look amazin’ by the way, but more than that, you look happy.”
“I am happy. I’m so, so happy. I love you, Ryuji. I love you so much.”
“I love you too, Yu.”
They remained like that for a while, exchanging affections—Yusuke smudged Ryuji’s face paint with how many times she’d kissed his rosy, freckled cheeks—until their stomachs got the better of them. Telling your boyfriend you love him fifty times over was very important, but so was food, and they couldn’t live off shrimp chips alone.
“I wonder if Ren and Goro’s takoyaki was any good,” Yusuke pondered.
“I’m surprised Goro’d even eat that stuff again, after what happened at the festival.”
“As long as they didn’t order the ‘Russian roulette’, I’m sure he’ll be fine.”
The pair sat at a picnic table with Ren and Futaba. Goro had loosened up a bit, splitting off to some fancy café with Sumire, while Ann and Shiho watched the street performers.
“Guh… my tummy hurts,” Futaba groaned.
“That’s because you ate five chocolate-filled taiyaki, ‘Taba.”
“And I regret nothing!”
Ren rolled his eyes. “How are you two doing?”
“Great!” Ryuji replied, and Yusuke nodded in agreement.
“I can’t remember the last time I was so inspired! I’ve nearly gone through my entire stack of prints, and I even exchanged contact information with several potential clients.”
Futaba swirled the straw around her drink. “I wish I had your guts. I haven’t socialized at all today, outside you guys.”
“And a little while ago, you wouldn’t have socialized with anyone,” Ren countered. “This place is loud, crowded, and totally overwhelming, yet you chose to stick with it.”
Futaba stretched, showing off her ‘Your Government Agent Is Trans’ shirt, alongside aro-ace-colored nails. “Someone had to rep women in STEM, and what better rep is there than a girl who still needs her partner to do her E shots.”
“I don’t blame you, needles are effin’ scary,” Ryuji concurred. “Since we’re bein’ honest with each other, my mom did my shots for the first year-and-a-half.”
“I keep telling you, I can help—”
“I got it, Yu, seriously. And Ren’s right; you’re a real trooper, Futaba.”
“Gee, thanks Dad,” she said, but the smile she flashed him was sincere. “Nice paintjob, by the way. You certainly got some action today.”
Ryuji flushed purple over the blue in his cheeks. “Wh- I- you said it wasn’t that bad!”
“It’s not…” Yusuke awkwardly trailed off. “It’s… striking? A bold new approach to makeup? Are any of these working for you?”
Ryuji opened his phone camera, expression shifting between abject horror and mild amusement. Yusuke responded by licking her thumb and swiping it across his face, but all that did was smear the lipstick further up his cheek.
“That’s worse!” he whisper-shouted, and was immediately drowned out by Futaba’s roaring laughter.
“Then take it as a symbol of my love: messy, bold, and unwavering.”
“Only you can turn a situation like this into something poetic,” Ren said. “Be sure to save some for Goro, he needs a little more color in his life.”
Now it was Ryuji’s turn to laugh. “I gotta see that happen. Your dorky little situationship is drivin’ me nuts.”
It was evident to anyone who knew Ryuji how protective he was over his friends, especially Ren and Yusuke. He’d never truly gotten past what happened in the interrogation room, and how close he’d been to losing Ren forever. Yusuke, like Ren, had gone through too much in her life for him not to step in at the first hint of trouble.
Despite all he’d done for her, she didn’t always require his protection. He wasn’t one to shy away from vocalizing his distrust for Goro, but Yusuke and Ren had forgiven him, and he’d come to accept that. This strange loner made them both very happy, and even if Ryuji didn’t entirely understand it, he’d support them however he could.
This included poking fun at the “will-they-won’t-they” hole Yusuke and Goro had dug for themselves. After a long, introspective conversation, Ryuji and Yusuke had come to the conclusion that, while Yusuke loved her boyfriend more than anything, she’d developed a mild interest in Goro as well.
Would it lead anywhere? Maybe, maybe not. But the feelings were there.
As if on cue, Goro texted Ren that he was on his way back from the café.
“I hope Sumi remembered to bring me that pistachio macaron I asked for!” Futaba said.
“I thought your ‘tummy’ hurt?” Ren replied.
“It’s just one little macaron! How much harm could it do!?”
Haru and Makoto reentered the frame with a few goodies of their own.
“Geez,” Futaba snorted. “That’s enough bi merch to fill a warehouse!”
“And I will wear all of it.” Haru donned a sparkly tiara and waved a miniature pride flag in her face, while Makoto added a ‘Bisexual Bookworm’ pin to her battle vest. She’d started it earlier that year, and everyone was encouraged to donate as many scraps, buttons, spikes, and other trinkets as possible to this punk passion project. She’d even commissioned Yusuke to paint Johanna’s silhouette on the back.
Someone had tied an ‘unlabeled’ ribbon onto Morgana’s collar. His sexuality was Ann and fatty tuna, and his gender was… Morgana.
Ann and Shiho arrived shortly thereafter, as did Goro and Sumire. Everyone appeared decently fulfilled by the day’s activities, but exhausted nonetheless.
Preparing to depart, Ryuji tearfully reminded Ren of his promise to text the group chat as often as he could. He’d only be gone for a month, sure, but a month away from his best friend may as well be an entire lifetime.
Yusuke slunk off to say goodbye to Goro, who now had his earbuds in. “What are you listening to?” she asked, startling him from his dissociative state.
“Some hokey mystery novel. I believe I’ve already pieced together who did it.”
“As is to be expected from you. These authors really need to, as Ryuji puts it, ‘up their game’, don’t you think?”
“Definitely. Boring mystery novels should count as a crime in itself.” He tilted his head toward the commotion. “They might… be a while.”
“May I have a listen, then?”
“Halfway through?”
“An added challenge.”
“Alright,” Goro shrugged and passed her an earbud. She joined him on the curb, and they listened, hands almost touching, but not quite. A chapter passed, or perhaps two—the words seemed to blend together when all she could focus on was the buzz in her fingertips and the pounding of her heart.
Within the haze, Ryuji tapped her on the shoulder, and whatever face she gave in return made him smirk deviously. “Wo-hoah, okay, lover-girl. You ready to go?”
Goro pretended he didn’t hear him. “I… enjoyed your company, Yusuke.”
“I, as well.” She rose to her feet, Goro following her. “Jazz Jin, tomorrow at four, correct?” He nodded. “I’ll be there.”
She turned to leave, but Ryuji stopped her with playful shove. “Forgettin’ somethin’?”
“Oh!” Before Goro could react, Yusuke dipped down to plant an embarrassingly sloppy kiss on his cheek. She pulled back, admiring her work; a similar blue smudge to the dozens that adorned her boyfriend’s face. “Perfect.”
Ren let out a satisfied, “Finally!”
Goro, however, had nothing to say, knitting his brows together contemplatively. Yusuke nearly regretted her decision, fearing she’d misread the signs, when he replied, “I’m looking forward to it. Tomorrow night, I mean.” It was the softest she’d ever heard him speak.
That sealed the deal—Yusuke was smitten. Filling up sketchbooks until she’d perfected his face sort of smitten. Listening to mystery novels she’d never have cared about otherwise sort of smitten. Visiting his favorite place and learning about his taste in music, the drinks he ordered, the employees he’d befriended, sort of smitten. Completely and utterly smitten.
The only person with a smile bigger than hers was Ryuji, who was probably equal parts proud and relieved he didn’t have to witness any more of their painful near-flirtations.
“I can imagine it was like that with us, too,” she’d go on to remind him. “As was the case for Goro and Ren.”
They walked back to Ryuji’s apartment hand in hand, his head rested comfortably against her side. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: you look great today, Yu.”
“I feel great. And you,” she squeezed his hand, “are undeniably beautiful yourself. Conceited as it may be, those kisses also showed everyone there how lucky I am to be with you.”
“Stop that.”
“Stop what?”
“One-uppin’ me. Makin’ me so flustered I forget my own name. Bein’ unfairly pretty and tellin’ me I’m pretty too.” He lowered his voice a bit. “Don’t actually, though.”
“Oh, but you are~” she cooed. “My beautiful, talented, courageous—” “Babe, please—” “—Dear, my angel—” “Yusukeee—” “My love, my sweet love~”
“I think I’m gonna pass out.”
“Then I shall carry you back.”
“I can’t believe I’m dating the strongest, prettiest—” “Now who’s tacking on adjectives—” “Ububub- nope! My turn! Kindest girl, maybe ever.”
They were both flustered now. Flustered, giggling dorks glued to each other like they were 17 again, on that beach in Hawaii. The day Yusuke took the biggest leap of faith in her life, second only to leaving Madarame. Something had awakened inside her, another flame of rebellion that, like the first, could never be put out.
Spitting in the face of all who had doubted her, Kitagawa Yusuke was alive. She was alive, in love, and it was the best feeling in the world.