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Yusuke had been home for a month when Keiko finally broke. It had been bad enough sneaking around to see Kuwabara, but now she was sneaking around to see Kuwabara and avoiding Yusuke, and she simply couldn't take it anymore. It had been one thing to hide from the others, but lying to Yusuke was destroying her.
The hardest thing to contend with was how much she still loved him. She'd tried not to. She'd tried to let her anger overwrite whatever other feelings she might have had for him. It would have been so much easier if she didn't love him. But she did, damn him, and that had all come rushing back the moment she saw him on the beach. It made maintaining the lie even more of a nightmare than it had been before.
"I'm going to tell him," she said, pacing back and forth across her living room. "I have to, I'm losing my mind, I - "
"Okay." That one word from Kuwabara was so soft that she had to look at him to make sure he'd actually spoken. His eyes were so sad, so full of longing and a sense of grief that her heart shattered. She went to him, curling up in his lap and burying her face in his shoulder.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. She expected him to push her away, like he'd tried to do so many times in the beginning, but as the first hot tears leaked from her eyes his arms went around her, just like always. How many times had they sat together, just like this, while she had a breakdown over school or Yusuke or anything, and he just let her? Just settled himself around her like a bulwark against the world and let her ruin his shirt?
It wasn't fair. It wasn't fucking fair. She said as much, and Kuwabara's arms tightened around her.
"Sis says life's not fair an' then you die," he murmured. "Well, she says 'life sucks' but I figure that's what she means."
Keiko gave a soft, watery laugh. "That sounds like her."
"It shouldn't have to. Suck, I mean."
"No, it shouldn't." An idea was starting in Keiko's mind, a want trying to coalesce into a plan, and she let herself rest in Kuwabara's warmth as it took form.
Kuwabara suggested a public setting like a diner or cafe, but they both knew Yusuke didn't care about making a scene. The relative privacy of the riverbank seemed like their best bet. Neutral ground, and less chance of accidental collateral damage. He'd seemed better since he'd been home, not as liable to fly off the handle as he used to be, but Keiko had spent half her life planning contingencies for his temper. It was second nature by now.
Yusuke was already there when they arrived. His face lit up when he saw Keiko, expression fading into confusion as he looked at Kuwabara.
"Didn't realize it was a party."
"Oh, you know," Kuwabara said mildly. "Streets ain't as safe as they used to be."
"...yeah." Yusuke was looking straight at Keiko now. He knew something was up. Her heart beat double-time in her chest, and she felt Kuwabara shift to one side so that his shoulder brushed hers. He was picking up on her anxiety, which wasn't surprising. There were probably orbiting satellites that could hear the way her pulse was pounding.
"So was there a reason for this little meet-up or are we just gonna braid each other's hair?" Yusuke was looking between the two of them.
"I needed to talk to you," Keiko said.
"It have anything to do with why you've been ducking me since I got home?"
His tone was acidic and Keiko's temper flared. "Yes, actually, but if you're going to be an ass I'll leave and you can just keep wondering."
Yusuke took a deep breath, blew it out in a sigh, and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Do I get a guess?"
She hadn't expected that. He knows, she realized. She could see it in the set of his jaw and the line of his shoulders. He knew. Her heart lodged itself in her throat as she nodded, unable to speak.
"Cool. So, at some point in the past couple years, you - " He gestured at Keiko, hands still in his jacket pockets. "Started making time with him." The pockets pointed at Kuwabara. "And you're here to tell me you've decided he's the better choice."
"No." Yusuke looked at her in surprise, and took a deep breath before speaking again. "I'm here to tell you - both of you - " She looked up at Kuwabara, then back to Yusuke. "That I don't want to choose."
There was a long silence. Keiko felt like she couldn't breathe, like the air was suddenly far too thin. When they finally spoke, it was in unison.
"I don't think I understand."
"What the fuck does that mean?"
The two men glared at each other. Keiko stepped forward, not between them but no longer strictly at Kuwabara's side.
"I meant what I said on the beach," she said, turning so that she could face both of them. "Both of you have gone after what you wanted with both hands, and I - waited." She shook her head. "I don't want to wait. I want this." She looked at Kuwabara, then back at Yusuke. "Both of you mean so much to me and I - " Tears were welling in her eyes. She look a deep breath, trying to re-center herself. "I can't force either of you to do anything, obviously. But...I think it would make me really happy. I think we could all be happy."
Another long, tense silence. Eventually Keiko gave in and just laid her face in her hands. Not crying, at least not yet. Just letting herself hide for a moment.
"No one has to agree to anything right this second," she said when she was able to come up for air. "Just...sleep on it, okay? If it's something you think you can be okay with, come back here tomorrow, and...we'll figure it out from there. Okay?" The last word was almost too loud, too bright, and she was sure they could hear the tears she was fighting back. Maybe that was why they both just kind of nodded, Yusuke backing away several steps before he turned on his heel and walked away, shoulders hunched.
"You coulda warned me." Kuwabara's voice was quiet, but she could hear the upset and confusion in it.
"He was going to feel like we were ganging up on him no matter what," she said, trying to wipe away a tear without him noticing. "It didn't feel - "
"Fair?" His voice was as close to bitter as Keiko had ever heard it, and she turned away from it. She felt like a coward for it, but she just couldn't take it. Tears fell freely now, even as she closed her eyes against them.
When she opened them again, it was to see Kuwabara's back as he walked away.
Keiko was alone when she got to the riverbank the next day. She was early, mostly because she was a ball of nervous energy and sitting at home waiting was driving her crazy. So she sat on the riverbank by herself, staring into the water, and trying not to think too much about anything.
"Hey."
Yusuke's voice broke the silence out of nowhere, and she pressed a hand to her chest as though she could physically force her heart to stop jumping.
"Since when are you quiet?" she asked. He flashed a grin at her.
"Guess we've both got some new stuff to learn about each other."
There was a long, quiet moment as they watched the river together. Keiko didn't want to break the silence, didn't want to bring reality back in, but forced the question past her lips. "You're...okay with this, then?"
Yusuke shrugged, looking at her from the corner of his eye. "I'm here, ain't I?"
"Urameshi." Kuwabara's voice was like thunder, and when Keiko twisted around he was marching up to them with a carry-out drink carrier in one hand. "'Let's go together, she'll like that. Hey, let's get coffee on the way.'" He shoved the drinks towards Yusuke. "You're paying me back."
"I thought you were right behind me, I swear." Yusuke was grinning, but Keiko's attention was on the bruise covering half of Kuwabara's face. When she turned to Yusuke, he defended himself by offering her one of the steaming cups, crouching down to sit next to her.
"We knew we were gonna fight about it," he said. "Figured it was better not to do it in front of you." Keiko narrowed her eyes at him, but took the coffee. The smell of strawberry wafted up from the cup, startling her. She hadn't had strawberry coffee in ages - but he'd remembered.
"I nailed him a couple times too," Kuwabara sniffed, settling on her other side. "Just so you know."
"Yeah, I just heal faster now." Yusuke sipped his coffee, looking back out over the river. Keiko just stared at him for a moment. He said it so casually - not just the admission that he was more than human, but conceding that he'd gotten hit at all. The Yusuke that had left her behind would have blustered about it, scoffed at Kuwabara or played it off as a fluke. This...was not that Yusuke.
"So...did you actually talk at any point, or was it all fists?"
"Mostly fists," Yusuke admitted. "But..." He sighed. "I don't know how it's supposed to work. It's weird to think about."
"But we decided we'd rather do something weird with you than be normal without you," Kuwabara finished, and Yusuke gestured towards him with his coffee cup.
"Yeah, that."
The tears were back in Keiko's eyes. She tried to mask them with a long pull from her coffee, hiding her face behind the cup. They were being so deliberately casual about it, which was how she knew they were both really weirded out. But they were willing to try, and that made her heart so full she worried it might burst.
"Besides, I can't think of a single normal thing that's happened to me since middle school," Kuwabara went on. "I don't think I'd know what to do with normal if I had it."
"You're telling me," Yusuke said dryly. "For all I know this is normal for me."
"Only one way to find out," Keiko whispered. It was all she was capable of doing past the lump in her throat.
After a moment, Kuwabara rested one arm over her shoulders. She stiffened, looking up at him, but he just kept drinking his coffee. Looking over at Yusuke, she saw how rigidly he was sitting, how he was very pointedly not looking at them. So she reached over and tugged on his jacket sleeve until he sat fully in the grass next to her, where she could lace their fingers together. His hand was larger than she remembered, more calloused, but it still fit in hers.
The three of them sat there on the bank of the river, drinking their coffee and watching the sun set over the water. It was new, and it was weird, but Keiko didn't think she'd ever felt more right in her entire life. And it was just the beginning.