Work Text:
Natsuki figured that when they started dating, Yuri wouldn't act condescendingly towards her anymore.
They had been having a regular afternoon. Ever since they started dating a few months before, Natsuki had been regularly visiting Yuri’s place. She wasn't allowed to sleep over—her dad would never allow that, even if it was with a girl—but when her schedule allowed, she rode the train into Yuri’s neighbourhood and spent the better portion of the day with her girlfriend.
Yuri’s house was meticulously neat, but held a cozy elegance that Natsuki never had at home.
Her bedroom itself was sparse but lived in, with one end of the room covered by a stretch of bookshelves and the other occupied by her four-poster bed and writing desk. Treasured hardcovers extended across their own dedicated bookshelf, classy leather-bound volumes by their side, while weathered down paperbacks found their home in the shelves the easiest to reach, ready for whenever Yuri had an itch for reading. (Which Natsuki could confirm was about 99% of the time). Even some of Natsuki’s manga settled in the corner of the shelves, a place to stay outside of the reach of her dad and the cramped spaces of a classroom closet.
The two of them were curled together under the heavy blankets of the bed, Natsuki’s head resting on Yuri’s shoulder. Their legs were tangled, a book in each of their laps—a manga for Natsuki and a horror novel for Yuri—and as they quietly read, Yuri played with the short strands of hair at the base of Natsuki’s neck.
This had become a regular routine for them, making a date out of simply enjoying literature. It had been Natsuki’s favourite part of the literature club, and there was something satisfying about continuing that tradition in the comforts of Yuri’s arms.
Sometimes they pierced their bubble of silence to remark on what they were reading. Although they usually had no context for understanding beyond previous conversations, they always gave each other gentle smiles and hums of acknowledgment.
It was intimate and familiar. The lack of words was a consolation in itself.
But maybe they should have been talking more than their plain whispers of recognition.
“When are you going to stop liking Parfait Girls?”
Natsuki immediately stiffened, her gaze flicking over to Yuri’s before focusing back on the panels of her manga. She hadn’t been expecting this kind of question, especially out of nowhere. It wasn’t hard to figure out it was Natsuki’s favourite series; she proudly declared it, but after dates and kisses, Natsuki assumed Yuri would be more considerate with her words.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m curious. You’ve been fixated on Parfait Girls for a while now. I was wondering when you were going to move on.”
Yuri was still playing with Natsuki’s hair, and Natsuki couldn’t tell whether she felt soothed or agitated.
“You’re acting like I'm a child still attached to her teddy bear,” Natsuki huffed, “I thought you said there's nothing wrong with liking the things I like.”
“There isn't.”
“Then why are you being such a bitch about it?”
Yuri finally pulled back her hand and gave Natsuki a mild frown.
“Natsuki, there's no reason to get crude. I was curious.”
There was a moment of silence, Natsuki feeling guilty for creating the tension in the air, and Yuri staring at her like she was anxious for a response. When Natsuki didn’t speak, Yuri took in a breath and continued.
“I wanted to learn more about you. I don't get fixated on things the way that you do.”
Natsuki raised an eyebrow and let out a rough sound of indignation.
“Yes. You do. Are we in the same room right now? Look at your bookshelf! Didn’t you say yourself that you get too obsessed with the ‘agonizingly complex inner worlds’ of horror’s ‘disoriented protagonists?’ I’ve seen you read this book twenty times!”—Natsuki tapped harshly on the cover of Yuri’s book—“What’s your deal?”
“Well, yes, I’m passionate about my reading. We– we both are. I just wanted to understand how you can stay focused on one series for so long. You’ve been following it since middle school, haven’t you?” Yuri replied, tilting her head like she was trying to look welcoming and giving Natsuki a small smile.
Natsuki didn’t give Yuri the pleasure of a response. She pushed back the covers of the bed and swung her legs off, turning her body away from Yuri entirely. Her hands gripped the edges of her manga’s cover, holding the tome close to her chest.
“I know how you see me. You think that you're so nice because you started reading manga for my sake, but you still think that you're the one who likes ‘real’ literature.”
At this, she turned back around to face Yuri, her heart clenching tightly in her chest.
“So what if Parfait Girls is simple? So what if I’ve liked it for so long? It makes me happy! I thought that we already understood each other well enough not to be saying things like this anymore!”
Yuri grimaced, her eyebrows scrunching together delicately. She reached out a palm and lightly grasped Natsuki’s wrist, her long fingers wrapping around her skin and sending shivers up Natsuki’s spine. Natsuki almost thought that Yuri was finally going to join her side.
“I apologize if I offended you, Natsuki, but it's only natural to be curious.”
“Ugh! What is actually wrong with you?!”
She tore herself away from Yuri’s hold and stomped over to the bookshelves along Yuri’s wall.
“Look, we clearly don’t know each other as well as I thought we did. To you, I’m still just obsessed with silly little stories while you’re engaging with the stuff of ‘real’ substance. Why even ask me that question, Yuri? Is Parfait Girls something I’m supposed to have grown out of by now?”
Natsuki started pulling her manga out of the shelves, sliding each title out one by one. Yuri finally seemed to show some remorse and scrambled over.
“Stop!”
She tried to block Natsuki, pressing her arms against the remaining works, but gave way easily when Natsuki harshly shoved her aside and continued her work.
“Get out of my way. If I’m such a child to you, there’s no need to keep holding onto these.”
“You don’t need to be overreacting like this,” Yuri said, “It’s okay if you still like Parfait Girls. I was asking a question.”
Natsuki scowled. Her face felt hot, and she hated feeling vulnerable like this. Everything within her wanted to scream over Yuri’s words, but she took in a shaky breath and suppressed the blazing urge.
It all felt like how they had been before. Their deep-seated and bitter cycle of arguments. No matter how many times they apologized, no matter how many tears were shed, they always butted heads over the things that should matter the least.
Natsuki knew she had been largely to blame for their issues. Even when she tried to be rational, holding the facts of a situation tightly in her mind, her temper always got the best of her. She would just get so overwhelmed.
Yuri spoke up, and Natsuki realized she was thinking of the same thing.
“I’m trying to understand. You always get into these fitful spells of rage. It doesn’t matter what I have to say, you’ll be blinded by your frustration, and accuse me of things with such hatred in your eyes–”
“I’m not– you’re acting like I’m upset for no reason,” Natsuki said, briskly brushing her hair into her face and cloaking the beginnings of tears.
Yuri wrung her hands uncertainly through her own hair, threading her fingers through the silky strands repetitively. She opened her mouth to speak, but stepped back, humiliation finally sinking in.
“I’m going home,” Natsuki said coldly.
“No, Natsuki, please!”
Natsuki ignored Yuri as she hauled her manga into her arms and stumbled over to her bag, stuffing them in the best she could. Yuri’s face was beginning to take on a reddish flush, and she stood there, her posture rigid, straining to find the right words.
Just as Natsuki reached the threshold of the doorway, Yuri thrust out a line.
“It was rude of me, Natsuki. I apologize.”
Natsuki hesitated, her hand hovering over the doorknob. Her eyes were watery, and she couldn't swallow past the itch in her throat.
She huffed out a sigh.
None of their arguments ever got resolved. She was sure that this would come up again. Natsuki didn’t know if either of them could ever get over their own egos and understand one another.
The worst part was that she didn’t know who was really in the wrong.