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Yusuke had gone over to Ryuji’s apartment that afternoon for “inspiration”.
Despite housing so many free-spirited artists, the Kosei dorms were barren compared to Ryuji’s eclectic bedroom. She supposed that had something to do with the strict curriculum. When art became a job, a requirement to graduate, any enjoyment for it seemingly… faded away. After escaping Madarame (and the grueling slump preceding Desire and Hope), Yusuke refused to let her passion be taken from her again.
That being said, she managed about a half-hour of concentrated sketching before her mind wandered toward a different “inspiration”. Namely, Ryuji’s freckles, still darkened from the Hawaii sun. Tan lines marked where swimsuit met skin, made visible as the strap of his tank top slipped ever so tantalizingly off his shoulder.
He’s doing this on purpose, isn’t he?
Her suspicions were confirmed when she neatly placed her sketchbook back in her bag, to which Ryuji responded with an unsubtle fist-pump.
“Five minutes, maximum. This assignment is due tomorrow, you know.”
“Yeah, totally, fine by me!”
Now, here she was, sat on Ryuji’s lap as they both awkwardly figured out how to kiss each other. Yusuke bit—a lot—and Ryuji switched angles quicker than his girlfriend could keep up with, causing their foreheads to repeatedly knock together.
“Sorry- sorry!”
“Guh- shit- my bad!”
Yusuke’s established five-minute window was no match for the pair’s stubborn determination to succeed, and soon five minutes turned into ten, and ten into twenty.
Ryuji alternated between kneading the tightness in the back of her neck and absently twirling her hair around his fingers.
“Your hair’s so pretty, you thinkin’ of growin’ it out?”
Yusuke instantly pulled away, and Ryuji’s hand fell. “Don’t say that.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean anythin’ bad by it, I just- sorry.” He began worrying his bracelets in the absence of stimulation.
Yusuke shook her head. “You’re alright. I shouldn’t have been so harsh.”
“You wanna talk ‘bout it…?”
Ryuji’s other hand hadn’t left Yusuke’s waist, and the sensation grounded her enough to continue. “Your words just now; I was reminded of something Madarame used to tell me. Like most things in my life, having control over my hair was a privilege, not a right. Whenever I ‘misbehaved’, he’d force me to cut it.” The cool air from Ryuji’s box fan tickled her neck, and she tensed up again. “He- he knew I preferred it long, and he constantly held that fact against me, saying how pretty I’d look if only I ‘hadn’t brought this upon myself.’”
“Shame…” Ryuji muttered under his breath.
“Hmm?”
“It all goes back to shame. Makin’ you feel ashamed of who you are.” Dark brows furrowed with rage, which he channeled into twisting the bracelets more aggressively. “He used shame to keep you in line.”
His wrists grew red from the metal tugging at his skin. Yusuke nudged him, and the boy shifted his attention to lightly playing with her fingers instead.
“When we first met, it had recently been cut. There were still fading marks from where he nicked me with the scissors. If anyone asked, I was simply an impulsive teen doing it myself. I almost… started to believe him, that it was my fault.”
“Well, it ain’t.” Ryuji peppered kisses over each finger, paint gathering under the nails. Along her callused hands, and up her arms, dotted with moles and tiny scars. Her neck, which she welcomed with a tilt of her head and a soft sigh. Finally, he met her lips once more; a small, reassuring peck. “None of it’s your fault.”
“If only we’d met earlier,” Yusuke said. “It may sound selfish, but I truly needed someone like you in my life.”
“‘S not selfish. And I dunno how much help I’d be back then. I had a whole host of issues to unpack. I could’ve… I could’ve made things a lot worse.”
“I sincerely doubt it. I was alone, Ryuji, and so were you. We may be dysfunctional at first, in this hypothetical world, but we also wouldn’t be alone anymore. And I like to think that all it takes is a single understanding person for progress to be made. Someone I can relate to. Someone like you.”
Ryuji took a moment to compose himself, the weight of their missed connection overwhelming the pair enough to make them both shudder. “Damn…”
Another beat of silence, and Yusuke changed the subject. “I’m not opposed to being called that—p-pretty, I mean.” Her voice wavered a little, giving away her feelings for the word. “When you say it, I know you’re telling the truth. He never was. So… I want you to reclaim it from him. I want to feel pretty.”
“Good, ‘cause you are, and I’ll tell you every.” Another kiss. “Damn.” And another. “Day.” Yusuke let out a hearty laugh, which only encouraged Ryuji to keep kissing. “Pretty-girl. Literally the prettiest girl I’ve ever met. No contest.”
“You—snrk—you really think so…?”
“Hey, you’re the one who said, ‘I know you’re tellin’ the truth.’ It’s effin’ ridiculous how beautiful you are. And you don’t gotta do anythin’ to prove it, either. If anyone gives you shit, tell ‘em your boyfriend’ll have a few words for ‘em, too.”
“Ah, my noble knight.” Ryuji flushed, halting his kiss-attack. “To answer your earlier question: yes, I would like to grow my hair out. Though it’ll certainly take some… getting used to. How was it like for you, in changing your appearance?”
“So weird. Good weird, but still weird. After cuttin’ everythin’ off, I could hardly look in the mirror for a while.” Yusuke touched the short fuzz around his neck. “I was afraid I’d made a mistake. Turns out, I just needed to give it time. Same with my name. I’m reinventin’ myself here—‘course it’s gonna freak me out!”
“That makes sense.”
“If life makes you feel awkward sometimes, you can be awkward with me, okay?”
“Okay.”
It had hardly been a month, and Yusuke was already completely lovestruck (she turned the assignment in a day late).
*****
Pretty soon, Yusuke would be alone again.
Makoto and Haru had already graduated, Akechi was out doing God knows what, and Ren moved back to Inaba. Futaba and Sumire planned to stay in Tokyo after high school, but with such admirable talents, it was only a matter of time before their futures took them down a different path. And Ryuji…
Though he claimed he had no intention of leaving, Yusuke feared they were only holding him back from the chance at a better life, one separated from the painful sites of his past. He’d already moved once. Who’s to say he wouldn’t again?
They’d all go on to do great things, while Yusuke watched from the sidelines, never amounting to much besides a few competitions no one cared for beyond exhibition week. Years down the line, when everyone had settled into adulthood, the memory of this strange, lonely girl would fade away, like their connection to the Sayuri.
Yusuke hadn’t left their room in days. Each toss and turn gathered another knot in their hair, the whole of which they didn’t have the energy to comb through. Unkempt stubble scratched the back of their hand as they assessed the damage, their stomach sinking with the realization that they needed to do something about it soon.
They ran the shower—past lukewarm for the first time in months—and stepped inside, resting their head against the tiled wall.
Perhaps this is my punishment for not putting forth more effort, Yusuke thought, tracing condensation along the grooves. In school, in my relationships, in the simple act of making myself presentable each morning. Perhaps Madarame was right: I have done nothing worthy of respect, and certainly nothing worthy of the hair I’ve so brazenly neglected.
Yusuke could feel each wet strand against their neck, and what was supposed to be a relaxing experience only made them sink further into despair.
The water is too hot. The air is too thick. There’s hair wrapped around my throat, in my eyes, in my lungs. It’s choking me. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.
Yusuke practically tumbled out of the shower, blindly reaching for the sink and bracing their trembling arms on either side.
Who is this stranger…?
Butterflies, in many cultures, signified renewal; rebirth. The caterpillar emerges from its chrysalis somehow equipped with the knowledge of what it is and what its purpose will be. Yusuke never felt like a butterfly. Change had occurred, but not to the point where they could confidently approach the mirror without seeing a chrysalis still hugging their waist. They’d done everything they thought would bring them peace, and there it remained.
Maybe it was a mistake emerging at all. Even if it hurt, it might just hurt… less, when they no longer had to worry about anyone noticing their shell was half-broken.
They didn’t even bother getting dressed, throwing a towel over their sickly body as they dug through their supplies for the scissors. Once they’d located them, they reentered the bathroom in a trance, pausing only to grimace at their reflection.
I can’t breathe. Please, let me breathe again.
Yusuke grabbed a fistful of tangled blue locks and began hacking at it with the scissors, repeatedly piercing their skin in the process. The searing pain should’ve been enough of a plea to stop, but they’d gone too far to turn back now. They’d made their choice.
After their hair, they moved on to the ingrown stubble. A few rough strokes, and the blade caught the light in such a way that allowed their conscience to move through it, pulling them from their trance. Yusuke hurled the cursed thing across the room with a strangled scream, another soon following as they refocused on their appearance.
What have I done…?
Yusuke found their phone buried under the futon—how had it gotten there?—and after several desperate attempts, unlocked it.
Me: Ryujki
Me: Are yoiu theree
Me: Im sorry
Me: I needf you
Me: Im scvared
They received a response almost immediately.
Love <3: oh my god are you okay??
Love <3: ill be right over
Love <3: calling you now
Love <3: please stay on the line
He did, though Yusuke wasn’t much help in providing context to their situation.
“I-I can’t be alone right now. I can’t.”
“I know, you’re gonna be okay, I’m comin’.”
“I did something ho-orrible, Ryuji… I m-made a mistake, a horrible mistake…”
“Didya hurt yourself? Please, please tell me if you hurt yourself.”
“N-not on purpose…”
“Are you thinkin’ of hurtin’ yourself?”
“That’s why I need you here. I’m scared I might…”
“Okay, just stay with me. Don’t hang up. Keep talkin’, even if it ain’t makin’ sense.”
They could hear Ryuji running through the station, layered voices rising and falling around him. After a short while, the train doors opened, and he shuffled to his seat.
“You—huff—still there…?” he asked, out of breath.
“Yes. Don’t- don’t overexert yourself.”
“I’m fine. I’ll be fine. How—huff—are you doin’ right now?”
“A b-bit better, knowing you’ll be here soon. I’m sorry for putting you through this.”
“Don’t be. And I’m sorry for not reachin’ out to you earlier. You said you’d be busy these next few days, and I took your word for it… I should’ve at least texted.”
“No, it’s alright, I understand. It isn’t your job to look after me.”
Ryuji went silent for a moment, a faint static overtaking the line. “Yusuke… lovin’ you’s gotta be the easiest job in the world. There’s no better feelin’. You’re so damn important to me, and I want nothin’ more than for you to be important to yourself.”
“Ryuji…” Yusuke replied. “It’s impossible to capture all you have done for me in a single word. Love is certainly the closest equivalent, but it truly goes beyond that. I… I love you.”
“I love you, too. I’m almost there.”
They unlocked the door, then resumed their position on the futon, wrapping themself in both winter and summer blankets. A temporary chrysalis, they’d decided. Yusuke’s real mistake wasn’t still being inside one (temporary or not), it was thinking they were better off that way. And as humiliating as it was imagining Ryuji’s reaction to their current state, he had to know. They couldn’t hide forever.
When Ryuji arrived, he made a beeline for his girlfriend, arms hesitantly outstretched before they nodded their approval.
“Please refrain from expressing your disappointment,” they said. “I cannot handle another failure right now.”
“Disappointment…?” he repeated, scooping them into his arms. “Why would I be disappointed?”
They removed the blankets from their head, uncovering first the remains of their hair, then the jagged cuts along their face and neck. Ryuji stifled a gasp, poorly masking his horror.
Yusuke burrowed deeper into that protective layer, concealing whatever they still weren’t ready for him to see. “I told you I’d planned on growing it out, and I want to, but… I panicked. About my future, the future of the Phantom Thieves, our future together. I allowed my hair to get this bad, and the sensation against my skin was what finally broke me. Instead of facing my demons, I caved to their will. I- I promised myself never again, yet here I am.”
“Okay,” Ryuji said, processing the situation. “Let’s start with what’s right in front of us.” He unzipped the bag he’d brought with him. In their tunnel vision, Yusuke hadn’t even noticed it. “I, uh, packed a first aid kid, ‘cause, y’know, my mom. Can I use it on you?”
They nodded, so Ryuji fished out a few cotton balls and a bottle of antiseptic. “This is prolly gonna string. You can squeeze my hand if it’ll help.”
I’ve felt worse. He carefully dabbed the antiseptic over their cuts, and Yusuke immediately reached for his hand.
“I’m almost done. Just a little more- there!” He retreated to his bag. “Now, I’ve got some bandages—small ones! Don’t worry, they’re really small. While I put ‘em on, there’s a couple things I need to tell you. They’re important, so please, hear me out.
“The past sticks with you, and, at least for me, it never goes away entirely. There are good days, and bad days, and great days, and horrible days, and just ‘cause you’ve experienced a lot of one, doesn’t mean you can’t experience the others, too. Both good, and bad… and horrible, unfortunately.” He moved on to the other side of their face. “Today was horrible, but it also doesn’t rewrite all those great days, and the things you’ve accomplished durin’ ‘em.”
Yusuke thought of the first aid kit; how stocked it was, and how that compared to the insufficient treatment they’d received growing up. Though they were initially a bit envious, they quickly remembered the sort of hefty price that kit came with: fear. Of retaliation from Ryuji’s father, Kamoshida, the track team. The whole world seemingly had a vendetta against the Sakamotos at one point, and they scrounged together what they could to protect themselves.
“When I said I didn’t plan on leavin’ Tokyo anytime soon, I meant it. I’ve had some horrible days here—hell, horrible years—but I’ve also had some great ones, too.” He held them close, careful not to brush against their wounds. “This is my home, and my home includes you.”
I am his home. Hearing those words was like taking their first breath of fresh air in years. After that breath, after several agonizing sleepless nights, they could finally rest. Would it be too early to say I want to spend the rest of my life with him…? They settled on a different question instead. “How could anyone not love you?”
Ryuji chuckled bashfully. “I don’t really, um, know how to answer that.”
The adrenaline had started to leave Yusuke’s body, and they were quickly becoming delirious with exhaustion. “Well, they should. Everyone should. What’s not to love? Oh- that gives me an idea. I’ll make a list of all the things I love about you.”
“Hey, pretty-girl, look at me.” Their eyes were unfocused, and he knocked on their forehead playfully. “I’m losin’ you, ain’t I?”
It was small, but they flashed their first smile in nearly a week. “A little, yes.”
Ryuji beamed at their noticeable amusement, a far cry from where they’d started. “Can I stay the night? Just to make sure you’re okay.”
“Don’t you have school tomorrow…?”
“Tomorrow’s Sunday, Yu.”
“Oh. I could’ve sworn today was Friday.” They’d completely lost track of time. How long had they truly spent locked inside their room? How many assignments had they missed? Exams? Pop quizzes? Had they sabotaged their chance to graduate…?
Yusuke’s expression darkened once more, and Ryuji attempted to steer them back in the right direction. “Focus on what’s right in front of you, remember? We can worry about that in the mornin’. Right now, you need sleep.”
They hardly had the energy to worry anymore, the last few sparks of anxiety fizzling out as their room darkened with impending nightfall. “Alright…”
Ryuji briefly left their side to retrieve a pair of pajamas—his, of course—and handed them over. He changed around the corner (avoiding the scene inside the bathroom) while Yusuke stared at the clothes folded neatly on their lap. This certainly wasn’t the first time they’d worn something of his, but after everything that had happened that day, the simplicity of a clean pair of clothes gave them pause. Yusuke cradled them to their chest as they shed that temporary chrysalis, feeling just as warm underneath.
It was the loudest shirt they’d ever seen, and it was beautiful.
The couple had never tried fitting together on the futon before, and it took a few minutes to find the right position. Wrapped up in those same blankets, cold feet and warm arms, balancing out each other’s body temperatures. Yusuke could’ve slept on the hardwood floor, so long as Ryuji lay next to them.
“I can help cut your hair,” he whispered. “Even it out. I promise I won’t make it any shorter than it has to be.”
“Alright, but… I’d like a break from scissors for a while, if you don’t mind.”
“Yeah, I get it. G’night, Yu.”
“Goodnight, Ryuji.”
Yusuke slept the best they had in years.
*****
“This is what my hair is supposed to look like…?” Yusuke asked incredulously.
Ann nodded, flipping through the photos on her tablet. “With the right products, you could have some insane volume. The way the ends curl up, it’s probably much wavier than you think. That’s where I come in.”
They were nearing the middle of their third year, and Yusuke still didn’t feel quite right about her hair. She’d continued growing it out, but the results left something to be desired. To put it plainly, it was too… dull. Flat, dry, and dull.
While venting her frustrations to Ann, her friend had an idea.
“I’m not saying you don’t take care of your hair,” she clarified. “I’m just pointing out the potential for it to be even better! Trust me, as someone who has to deal with this—” she gestured to her own wavy locks, barely contained by a single tie, “—every day.”
“I am indebted to your gratitude, Ann,” Yusuke replied. “Even if my transformation isn’t a success, it means so much for you to have made the effort.”
“D’aww, it’s nothing. Can I touch your hair?”
Yusuke stopped visually scrutinizing her split ends to gaze up at Ann. “Oh- of course.”
Ann stood behind the girl, gently placing her hands on either side of her head. Yusuke shuddered as she carded each manicured nail through the sea of navy blue. She mumbled to herself about brushes and conditioners in such a soft, melodic tone that Yusuke eventually shut her eyes, allowing Ann to work her magic.
It felt incredible.
“You’re very good at this,” Yusuke said, leaning into every touch.
Ann chuckled. “I haven’t even washed it yet!”
“Then I have a lot to look forward to.”
Yusuke returned two days later for Ann’s prepared “spa treatment”. He’d been intrigued by spas and massage parlors since early childhood, but most were significantly out of his price range. He wasn’t entirely comfortable with a stranger touching his hair or seeing his scars, either. Now, he could partake in the experience from the comfort of a friend’s home.
He leaned over the sink, and Ann’s hands resumed their position on his head.
“Thank you again,” he said, voice slightly muffled over the sound of running water.
“And thank you for trusting me. I know how important your hair is to you.”
Yusuke hummed contently. “You’re one of my closest companions, Ann. There’s no one I’d rather confide in for such an intimate task.”
She made a startled noise at his choice in words and shut off the water. “Intimate? I mean, I guess it is. I wouldn’t exactly do this for any old acquaintance.”
“I hope that, after leaving Tokyo, you make time to visit whenever possible. It wouldn’t be the same here without you.”
Ann lathered shampoo through his hair, a scent similar to the rose candies she’d given him recently. “‘Course I will! But you’re thinking a little too far ahead. I have plans to study abroad, sure, but I’m not leaving right away.”
He went silent, finding no better way to respond than, “I’m sorry for clinging to you so much.” Another temporary chrysalis formed as he wrapped his arms around himself, embarrassed by the constant need for his friends’ reassurance. Yusuke had once been the last remaining student at the atelier, and he couldn’t stand the possibility of also being the last Phantom Thief to move on.
“Yusuke…?” She began parting his hair with a wet comb. “The fact that we don’t hang out as much as we used to bums me out, too. You aren’t alone in, well, feeling lonely. I miss Ren. I miss Makoto and Haru. Hell, I miss Akechi, somehow. But every time we’ve seen each other after a long break, it’s like nothing’s changed. Growing up doesn’t have to mean growing apart.”
“Yes… you are correct. I am once again grounded by your wisdom, Ann.”
“Blegh. ‘Wisdom’ makes me sound like an old lady.”
“And you will be equally beautiful in your old age.”
“Okay, now you’re thinking waaay too far ahead!”
She finished combing through each section, washing out the candy-scented conditioner. Yusuke never thought washing his hair could feel so… relaxing. It’s one of the things he loved most about Ann; she was always opening him up to new experiences like these.
“How do you feel about blow dryers?”
“Admittedly, not great.”
“What if it was on the lowest setting?”
“Hmm… you can give it a try, I suppose.”
Ann kept her distance, ensuring she didn’t aim directly in his ear. Out of his periphery, Yusuke could see his bangs fall into a more defined curl, and the ends certainly felt softer on his neck. Was it really that simple?
“Aaand… voilà! You ready for your new look? I’ll warn you now: you might not recognize yourself at first.” Yusuke tilted his head to the side, confused. “Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating a little, but it’s still super different!”
She spun him around to face her bathroom mirror, and… she was right.
Who is this stranger…?
This time, however, Yusuke wasn’t afraid to meet him.
*****
Yusuke had gone over to Ryuji’s new apartment that afternoon for “inspiration”.
He’d redecorated his room even more chaotically than before, lining each shelf with all the strange trinkets he’d accumulated across nearly two years of seeing the world through his girlfriend’s eyes. Things he would’ve otherwise overlooked, if not for their signature hand-frame leaving no stone (no matter how mundane) unturned.
Yusuke desperately needed that inspiration, drawing a blank with their final project of the semester. As always, though, things didn’t go according to plan.
At least they were better at kissing now.
Ryuji massaged their scalp, smirking slightly at the pleased noises they made against his lips. “You gonna fall asleep, Yu?”
“No, no, I have a project to complete,” Yusuke replied, their slurred speech giving the opposite impression. “Just a few more minutes…”
The pair continued exchanging lazy kisses as Ryuji leaned back, bringing Yusuke with him. They shifted around on top of their boyfriend, slotting their legs between his and propping their chin up on his chest. He still boasted a fine, muscular physique, but with a certain softness that made him the perfect pillow.
Yusuke, too, had become softer. Their ribs no longer clawed through their skin with each breath. They’d gotten better at remembering when to eat, and once those habits stuck, the portion sizes increased as well. For the times where they inevitably did forget, they felt less ashamed by it. After a lifetime of baggy clothes and sloppy brushstrokes caused by hunger tremors, they finally understood what it meant to love their body like the mother they never had.
With a healthier body, unsurprisingly, came healthier hair. Softer, sleeker, healthier hair. Like the Ship of Theseus, how much of it had survived the cutting and pulling of their youth?
Ryuji’s callused hands slipped underneath Yusuke’s sweater, kneading the softness he’d been so fixated on recently. Their breath hitched, any motivation they had to finish their assignment drifting further away with each gentle touch.
“Ryuji…?”
“What’s up, pretty-girl?”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too—”
“I’m not done.” Ryuji raised a brow, but let them continue. “I love you, I love our friends, and I’m incredibly lucky to have met such a wonderful group. You already know that, of course, it just scares me a little to imagine what my life would be like without you. If I would even—no, no, this is no time to despair.” They sighed. “Some mornings, I need to scroll through my contacts to ensure I’m not dreaming.”
“If it means anythin’, this—” Ryuji gestured to the space around him, “—is real. It ain’t a dream. I also understand if my sayin’ so ain’t enough to calm your nerves. How’s your heart right now?” he asked, planting a kiss on their temple.
“Warm. The warmest it’s ever been, quite honestly.”
“And that’s a good thing…?”
“Yes,” they nodded. “It’s very good.”
“Good, great. Y’know, I can sorta tell how you’re feelin’ by your hair. When you style it and put all those sweet-smellin’ products in, you’re good. You’re happy.”
“And when I start neglecting it,” Yusuke added, “I’m… not.”
“But I haven’t seen that, not for a while. As Mom puts it, ‘A better relationship with your body is the first step to a better relationship with your mind.’”
“Ah, Mei and her endless wisdom.” Ryuji continued massaging their scalp, and they put their cheek to his chest. His heartbeat sped up as they made a sound similar to a purr.
“I know us graduatin’s been pretty rough on you. Not everyone’s gonna be here all the time, and we can’t keep ‘em from leavin’.” His hand stopped, and they turned their head to look at him. “I’ve thought about my future, about where it’ll lead me, and as far forward as I can see, I’m not goin’ anywhere.”
He could say it a million times, and it would still hold the same weight.
“I want to teach art,” Yusuke said confidently. “I want to expand the passions of youth, not restrict them. I want students to express what words cannot through the canvas.”
“That actually reminds me of somethin’ I’ve been meaning to bring up. Careers, education. I think…” he fidgeted slightly. “I think I wanna be a gym teacher.”
Both professions brought back different, yet equally painful memories for them. While they couldn’t ever leave those memories behind, they could still try to prevent another from experiencing them.
“Sooo… teachers,” Ryuji pondered aloud. “Not the direction I was expectin’ to go in life, but I’m excited!” He pitched up his voice slightly. “I heard a rumor that Mr. Sakamoto and Miss Kitagawa are datin’~”
“That implies we’ll be teaching at the same school.”
“Right. Damn. Things ain’t always so simple.”
“Well, perhaps we will. And perhaps, by that point, there won’t be an ambiguity about our relationship.” Yusuke let the implications sit with him for a moment, smirking deviously.
Ryuji’s eyes suddenly widened. “For real!? Wh- we’re only 19…!”
“I wasn’t suggesting we do it tomorrow, Ryuji. Just that, if you’re open to the idea, and when the time is right, which I’m sure it won’t be for quite a while…” They trailed off, watching their boyfriend struggle to comprehend the situation. “I’m overwhelming you, aren’t I? My apologies—I’ll leave it at that.”
“Yeah,” Ryuji replied, a little spacy. “Okay.”
Yusuke hoped they hadn’t destroyed the mood entirely, or come on too strong, or…
“You’re already family, y’know.”
Oh.
“It’s not a no. I’m not sayin’ no. But as far as I’m concerned, you don’t need a ring and a ceremony to be part of this family.”
I can’t afford one, either.
They were rushing things again. Unlike the past, however, they refused to hide away inside a chrysalis to escape the embarrassment, allowing themself a much-needed moment of reprieve. A moment to rest their neck, after years spent craning it into the future, and even more locked in a fetal position. They were grateful for the protection these makeshift shields served when they truly needed it, but the war was over, and they’d become obsolete.
And thankfully for Yusuke, when Ryuji’s hands found their hair once more, it had never been easier to clear their mind.