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When Kanji leaves, he does it with all the subtlety of a trampling elephant. One moment, there’s a blonde barbarian in front of them, and the next, he’s gone, the door flaps billowing in his wake. Without him, the tent is a lot quieter and airier.
Yosuke sits down and leans back, resting his head against his pillow. “Guess it’s just the two of us now, partner.”
“I guess it is,” Yu says, leaning back against his own pillow. It’s pretty unfortunate that Kanji might get in trouble for sleeping in another tent, but Yosuke likes being alone with Yu. It makes him feel giddy, like they’re at a sleepover or something.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m kinda glad Kanji left.” Yosuke turns to face Yu. “This tent isn’t big enough for three guys to have enough space.”
Yu cracks a smile. “I don’t think my room at home is much bigger.”
“Yeah, we get it. You’re amazing. You can put up with anything. Well, I can’t.” Despite his earlier comments about needing space, Yosuke finds himself scooting closer to Yu, just so he can have a better view of his partner’s face. “Besides, less room means more plausible deniability. It makes a man feel less safe, if you know what I mean.”
Yu’s smile fades. He’s wearing an innocuous, neutral expression, but Yosuke knows a little better by now. Yu could be confused by Yosuke’s comments, but he could also be offended, or even looking for an opportunity to make a joke of his own. There’s no telling what his partner might have on his mind, but since they started investigating the Midnight Channel, Yosuke’s been learning to be more observant.
“C’mon, what are you thinking about?”
“Hmm?” Yu looks away from Yosuke. “I’m not really thinking about anything.”
It’s an obvious lie. Clearly, whatever it is that Yu is mulling over, it’s not something that he wants to share with Yosuke. And Yosuke gets it, he really does. People need their space. But it could also mean that Yu doesn’t trust Yosuke enough to share, or that he’s thinking about Yosuke himself, an idea that twists Yosuke’s stomach and makes it a little hard to breathe.
“Out with it,” Yosuke barks. He tries to reel it back in, but Yu’s eyes are wide. “I mean, I just feel like there might be something you want to say.”
“There isn’t,” Yu says. “I mean, not really.”
“Are you sure?” Yosuke says. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about Kanji?”
Yosuke can tell from the way Yu’s eyes widen further that he has it right on the money. There’s an owlish quality to Yu’s eyes, intelligent and unblinking, as if he knows everything there is to know. From the very moment Yu accepted Yosuke in spite of his shadow, Yosuke has wanted those eyes to gaze at him in awe, like he’s worth something that Yu had never even dreamed of. And though he’s succeeded on many occasions, Yosuke sometimes thinks he hasn’t impressed Yu as much as Chie or Nanako or any of the other people Yu has already scooped up. And now, Yosuke’s not even as good as Kanji. Whatever.
“Just say it,” Yosuke says. He sits up. “I can take it. We’re friends, aren’t we?” He hopes it doesn’t sound like a plea. It certainly feels like one.
Yu looks away again. It drives Yosuke a little crazy. Yu takes a deep breath.
“I just think it must have been really intense for Kanji to confront his shadow in front of the rest of us. I know that you’re a little uncomfortable with what you saw in his dungeon, but I think he deserves a little bit of a break. That’s all.” Yu’s words seem measured enough, but Yosuke hears a little hitch at the word ‘uncomfortable’, uttered with an almost bitter valence.
“I mean, I was trying to look out for you too,” Yosuke says. “C’mon, partner. Would you really want some gay guy putting his hands on you?”
Yu’s face whips back around, his eyes narrowed in a piercing glare. It’s the kind of look that Yu aims at shadows, or perhaps the kind of look he would aim at his own shadow — horrified and anguished, maybe even defeated. Then, Yu’s face slackens and he just sighs. “You’re a really good friend, Yosuke. I just wish you’d give Kanji a chance to experience that too.”
Yosuke doesn’t know what to do. Obviously, he has to be saying the wrong thing. But aren’t these the things that everyone else says? He remembers conversations in locker rooms, on school buses back from field trips, in tents much like this one. Guys gush about hot girls and make jokes about gays so their friends laugh. Yosuke has never really thought about gay people beyond his instinctual feeling of repulsion, but he knows how to talk about them. That’s just how being a guy works.
Then again, the point of having a persona is to face the truth, isn’t it? Yosuke’s already faced himself. He has the persona to prove it. But he’s never questioned the world outside of himself. It hits Yosuke that this is exactly what Yu did in accepting him, even though he's the Prince of Junes. It’s what Yu did when he spoke to Kanji after the rescue. Kanji had come back from that conversation prouder than ever, but he was calmer too and willing to hear Yu out about everything. Without someone like Yu, they would never have been able to accept themselves.
So yeah, Yosuke still feels like being gay is weird. But he’s tried his best to blend in, both at home and at Inaba, and that didn’t leave him with any friends. So what does he know, really, about being normal or being a guy? Hell, he doesn’t even know how to be himself.
Yosuke looks over at Yu, who’s still staring straight at him. The two of them are always together, but here in the darkness, Yu somehow feels closer. The light of the lamp casts his partner’s face in a yellow glow, but other than that, Yosuke can barely see anything. It’s as if they are the only two people remaining in the world, and all Yosuke can do is stare into Yu’s eyes.
“Yu,” Yosuke says. “Look—”
“Hey, are you guys still up?” A loud whisper draws Yosuke’s attention to the front of the tent. It’s Chie, reaching a hesitant hand in.
“What are you doing here?” Yosuke says. Why is it always Chie? Yu draws away and sits up. Yosuke sits up too.
They let Chie and Yukiko in, because of course they do, and the situation quickly devolves into their usual combative chatter. But at the end of the night, even as he lies on his side to sleep, Yosuke is still thinking of Yu. His partner's curled-up frame looks more childlike than Yosuke expected. If Yu had a girlfriend, she’d probably jump at the chance to hold him and take care of him, with him looking as sweet as that.
~...~
It’s still dark when Yosuke wakes up. His back hurts from sleeping on some kind of rock, and he feels all sweaty and dirty. The first thing he notices is that Yu isn’t in the tent.
Chie is snoring like a train leaving the station, and Yukiko seems to be sleeping just as deeply. Yosuke tiptoes over Chie, pulling her blanket over her as he does so. He steps out of the tent and into the night air.
There’s no one standing in the tent’s vicinity and the tables they were using for dinner are empty. It’s only when he looks into the distance that Yosuke sees a mop of silver hair nearly obscured by the grass.
Yu is lying on the ground, his arms and legs outstretched. There’s a little cowlick in his hair that’s usually perfectly straight. Yosuke wonders what it would be like to smooth it over, wonders if Yu has to smooth it over every morning, the way Yosuke does with his own hair. The moment feels private, somehow, and Yosuke wonders if he should leave Yu alone.
Before he can decide, Yu turns to face Yosuke. He doesn’t seem surprised.
“Can’t sleep?” he asks.
“I mean, have you met Chie? If the only other option is listening to her snoring, I’d rather be sleeping with Kanji.” It’s not really an apology — that, Yosuke will have to give to Kanji personally — but it’s the only way he can get one out through a joke.
“Sleeping with?” Yu asks with a smile.
“Hey, you know what I mean!” Yosuke crosses his arms. “But you know what, if it means getting a night of peace and quiet, even a straight guy like me might be tempted.”
“So that’s your price? Just a little peace and quiet?” Yu’s smile deepens in some inexplicable way that makes Yosuke’s eyebrows furrow. “There are many quiet people out there, you know.”
“Well, if there’s a quiet person contest, they’d have to compete against you,” Yosuke says. “And if they’re competing against you, they might as well go home.”
Yu’s laugh is a little strangled, a little bemused, but things are already miles ahead of how they felt in the tent. The breeze in the countryside blows wild and unfettered, so unlike the city. Yosuke sits down beside Yu, perhaps a little closer than is necessary.
“The stars are really beautiful here,” Yu says. They seem to twinkle in response, as if miles and miles away, they are watching Yosuke and Yu in return. Yosuke used to take the stars for granted, but right now, they seem like the most dazzling things in the world. Here in Inaba, where nothing and yet everything is the same.
“Partner, I know it’s kind of a touchy subject. And I know you don’t really want to talk about it. But I want you to know that I don’t actually look down on Kanji for liking guys or whatever.” Yosuke can feel Yu’s eyes turn towards him intently. It fixes the moment with a gravity that catches Yosuke’s breath.
“Sometimes, I just do whatever I like or what I think I’m supposed to do without thinking, and sometimes it means I end up hurting people, even people I care about.” Like Saki. Like Yu. “But that’s not the person I want to be. And if anything I do or say ever makes you sad, I want you to know that you can tell me.”
Yosuke bends his head, too overwhelmed by the eye contact to continue.
“I don’t want you to think you have to hide from me,” he says a little more softly.
For a few moments, all that Yosuke can hear is the soft chirp of cicadas and the faint rustling of grass in the breeze.
“I cook,” Yu finally says.
“Umm. What?”
“I cook and I clean,” Yu says. What he’s saying feels like such a nothingburger, but it’s the shakiest that Yu’s voice has ever gotten. “I like reading. I take care of Nanako. Maybe it’s not obvious here in Inaba, but I’ve spent most of my life being friends with girls and other boys that didn’t fit in. People used to talk about it. Maybe they still do.”
Yosuke used to be a boy like that. Maybe he still is one.
“I like to think that I’ve moved past it most of the time, but Kanji’s shadow reminded me of a lot of the things I used to think about myself. And whenever I hear things about — things about people like Kanji,” Yu’s face grows red. He seems to wrestle with himself before continuing. “Things about people like me, it makes me feel as if I’m the same person I was back then. And that’s not a version of myself I like to remember.”
People like him? Yosuke’s brain grinds to a halt. He doesn’t know what that means, doesn’t want to think about what that could mean, but he has to, doesn’t he? Yu saw Yosuke’s shadow, and in a way, Yosuke is finally seeing Yu’s. Yu’s eyes glisten a little, and it hits Yosuke that Yu is crying, a sight so catastrophic that Yosuke’s head might explode.
“Don’t cry!” Yosuke says. And it’s such a dumb, dumb thing to say, and oh, will Yu think Yosuke is shaming him for acting gay, maybe being gay? Fuck, it’s not enough. So Yosuke takes Yu by the hand, ignoring the flustered feeling in his own chest. And because his own pain is preferable to his partner’s, he decides to go for the rawest, most vulnerable thought that presents itself. “I like it when you smile.”
Yu gives him a baffled, incredulous look. Then he laughs, sending peals of laughter ringing through the fields.
“Keep your voice down, you’ll wake King Moron!” Yosuke hisses. But he doesn’t let go of Yu’s hand. When Yu notices, he squeezes Yosuke’s fingers, and when Yosuke doesn’t pull away, his smile grows a little wider. Yosuke can feel his mind going through a hundred different states of panic simultaneously, but he tries his best to make it all stop, at least while Yu is smiling at him and he is smiling back.
“You know what, partner, maybe there’s a little gay in all of us,” Yosuke says. “And if there’s any gay in me, I might as well use it on you.”
“I’m not sure if that’s how it works,” Yu says. “But maybe we can figure it out.”
As he lies there in the dark, holding Yu’s hand in his, Yosuke finds himself hoping that this moment will last forever.