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Before Inaba, the smallest town Yukari had ever seen was Kibune. When she was a little girl, they took a day trip there. She stuffed her face with kaiseki dishes and still thought that her father would live forever.
They walked around the village before they left. She swung from her parents’ hands; then, when she got tired from walking, her father gave her a piggyback ride. She pretended she was a giant, towering high above everyone else.
He tried telling her about the area’s history, but it all went in one ear and out the other. All she did was watch the old people wander hand-in-hand, their voices soothing as they cooed over how cute she was.
Will Dad’s skin sag like theirs? she wondered. She pressed her hands against his face. Under her fingertips, she felt the corners of his lips curl into a smile.
His light brown hair caught the sunlight. She glanced over at a passing elderly man, his hair silvery-white. Will his hair turn that gray?
Will he still carry me like this?
Will he still hold Mom’s hand?
Inaba holds much of the same small-town charm, but the buildings are bigger and the asphalt is blisteringly hot in the summer heat. Even though she is dressed for the weather, sweat still beads across her brow. She wipes it away with a frustrated hand and flips open her phone.
Mitsuru [13:22] Text me when you arrive.
Yukari [13:31] I just stepped out of the station.
Yukari [13:32] You didn’t tell me it would be this hot!
She can hear Mitsuru’s laughter.
Mitsuru [13:32] Find your way to the Amagi Inn and let them know who you’ll be staying with.
Mitsuru [13:34] I will meet you there tonight. In the meantime, try to find somewhere to cool off.
The perks of having an ultra-rich girlfriend—places like the Amagi Inn, it seems, will bend head-over-heels to make sure you’re comfortable.
Mitsuru sends one last message. It’s a GIF of a polar bear hiding itself in a freezer. Despite the heat, Yukari grins, and she pulls her luggage down the steps.
The sound of wheels dragging along the sidewalk takes her back to simpler times. Well, maybe not simpler times, but more energetic times—those few days in Kyoto, when Yukari laughed so hard that her stomach hurt; when she stood next to Mitsuru at the riverside and forced her to confront herself; when Yuki—
She stumbles over her feet. God. Even after all that happened with the Abyss of Time, even when she thought she had made peace with losing him, she still can’t think of him without a wave of grief threatening to swallow her whole.
Keep moving, she orders herself. One foot in front of the other. That’s what you promised.
The people here are nice enough. They direct her to Junes when she asks for a place with air conditioning and something cold to drink, though they don’t seem too pleased. At first, she thinks it’s because of her—she remembers hearing that small towns don’t always appreciate outsiders—but as she passes by stores with their windows shuttered, she realizes it’s the frustration that stems from being replaced with something cheap, shiny, and new.
She knows that feeling all too well.
“Okay, everyone, make sure you come back tomorrow with a rough draft of your project!”
Yukari gripped her folder tightly, waiting until the rest of her classmates had either left or begun cleaning the classroom before she made her escape. Her teacher tried to intercept her on the way out, but Yukari muttered an excuse about needing to help her mother prepare dinner.
Stop. Don’t look at me like you understand how I’m feeling.
She was lucky, in a way. At the last school, her homeroom teacher had done nothing to dissuade the nasty rumors spreading about Cursed Takeba and her evil scientist father. This one actually seemed to care, but when did sympathy cross the line into pity? And when would the teacher grow tired of sympathy given without response?
Maybe she would never find out. Everything good always seemed to find a reason to end. At least she would always have her mother, the only other person in the world who could ever begin to comprehend Yukari’s pain.
The autumn clouds hung heavy overhead, threatening to give way to another storm. She hurried home, clutching her backpack above her head just in case it began to rain.
Their home, a tiny one-bedroom apartment, was much smaller than the one she grew up in, but as long as they kept it clean and didn’t have people over, it was the perfect size. Sure, their beds were tiny and could barely fit a nightstand between them, but too much space meant too many shadows meant she imagined her father’s voice in the silence or that he was waiting for her when she woke up in the middle of the night. It meant that she had to play the game called, “Which version of Dad will I remember? The one who read me bedtime stories at night or the one who killed his entire research team?”
She opened the front door and called out to her mother. The words caught in her throat as she saw an unfamiliar pair of shoes next to her mother’s flats. Her stomach turned. She kicked off her shoes and placed them on the opposite side, staring at the dress shoes as though they would come to life and bite her.
Then, laughter. Her mother’s laughter, a sound she hadn’t heard in weeks.
She peeked through the open door. In their bedroom, on her bed, sat a man. His hair was dark and his glasses were rectangular frames that sat at the tip of his nose. He looked like a movie star, and immediately, Yukari hated him.
She crumpled her folder between her hands. How dare he smile at her mother like that? How dare he sit on top of her pink floral bedsheets and pretend like he was anything but a stranger in their home?
Mustering up her courage, she marched into the room, prepared to give this man a piece of her mind. “Hey!”
The man flinched and looked over, but her mother said nothing. She opened her mouth as if to continue talking, as if Yukari had never entered the room. When the man turned fully to face Yukari, her mother’s face tightened, although she tried to smooth her expression over. Hurt flared in Yukari’s chest.
“Oh, you must be Yukari-chan,” he said. “My name is—”
“I don’t care,” she snapped. “Mom, why is there a random guy in our apartment?”
She barely reacted. “Honey, let’s go out to eat.” She reached for her purse on the nightstand as she stood up from her bed. “We’ll bring leftovers back home.”
‘Honey’ stood up, too, and smiled at Yukari. “What would you like to eat, Yukari-chan?”
She couldn’t bear to look at him. Anger, not just at this man but at her mother, boiled beneath the surface.
(It wasn’t until years later, like a frog sitting in a pot of water, that she realized the anger was directed at herself, too.)
The seating in front of Junes already calls her name, with large industrial fans set up to combat the heat, but she makes her way inside to seek out air conditioning and a soda. Inaba seems small, yet with so many people forming lines at the cash registers, it feels more like Tatsumi Port Island than she would care to admit. She was here to get away from everything, not to be reminded of it all.
Still, the cool air feels great against her skin, and she takes a moment in front of the refrigerators. The store’s catchy tune plays overhead. She drums her fingers against her thighs as she contemplates what to grab…
“E-Excuse me?”
“Oh, sorry, am I in your way?” Yukari turns to see a little girl, maybe six years old at the most. She stares up at Yukari with such wide brown eyes that she begins to feel a little self-conscious.
Finally, she gasps. Yukari swears that sparkles fill the air around the girl as she exclaims, “It is you! You were in Detective Loveline!”
Yukari flushes. That one-episode, live-action remake that the director had all but begged her to star in was so small that she often forgets it ever even existed. She tries to forget, anyway, because her acting in it was so subpar that Junpei will sometimes bring it up just to make fun of her, but all of that dies on the tip of her tongue.
This little girl is…excited. Excited to meet who Yukari can only assume is one of her heroes—and why shouldn’t Lovely be? Smart, intuitive, and kind, the character checks off all the boxes of a good role model.
So, instead of shutting her down, Yukari grins. “Yeah! I’m surprised you recognized me. It was such a small release that I thought no one even saw it.”
Oh, jeez, even the girl’s laugh is adorable. “Of course! That’s my favorite cartoon in the whole wide world. I even have her magnifying glass! My dad bought it for me.”
Huh. Yukari had been expecting her to say that her mom bought it for her.
Speaking of parents…
“He isn’t here with you?” Yukari looks around as she says it. There’s an unsurprising number of people in this section, but none of them have the worried, head-on-a-swivel motion that accompanies a lost kid.
“No, I usually come here by myself. Dad works a lot, so I have to…what’s that saying? Pick myself up by the boots?”
“Pick yourself up by the bootstraps,” she corrects without thinking. It’s insane that she’s having this conversation with a six-year-old. “Well, what about your mom? She doesn’t go grocery shopping with you?”
A pit settles in Yukari’s stomach before she finishes her statement. The girl’s eyes dim and she looks down at the ground. Her lips turn down at the corners.
“She, um…” Her voice quavers. “She died. It’s just me and Dad now.”
The girl does not look like her, with darker hair and eyes, but when she looks up at Yukari,
all of a sudden, she is seven; the news report plays, announcing the death of all scientists involved in the Kirijo Group experiment to the haunting sound of her mother’s shriek—
she is seventeen; she has run out onto the rooftop at the high school, her laughter shriveling up in her throat as she sees Yuki Makoto, peaceful in his eternal slumber—
and without thinking, she extends a hand. The little girl’s jaw drops. She looks between Yukari’s hand and her face, as if she was giving out the secret to eternal life.
“Would you like to get ice cream?”
She flounders. “U-Um, I don’t have money right now…Dad said to only get what we need for the week…”
Yukari bites her tongue as her temper flares. It’s not the girl’s fault, not in the slightest. If anything, she has some choice words for the father in question, but she holds those back, too.
“I’ll pay for you,” she promises. “Just a little girls’ day out.” The girl still is at a loss for words, so Yukari adds, “I’ll tell you all about Lucky.”
“L-Lucky?” she gasps. “The dog from Detective Loveline?”
“The one and only.”
She cheers and takes Yukari’s hand, but freezes up as soon as their fingertips make contact. “Oh! I’m so sorry. My name is Dojima Nanako.” She bows, hands clasped in front of her.
“Takeba Yukari. It’s great to meet you, Nanako-chan.”
Nanako’s mouth forms a small, dark ‘o.’ “Wow, even your name is pretty.”
Any more of this, and Yukari’s heart might just give out from the sheer cuteness overload. She has to get her shit together, fast. “S-So, Nanako-chan, what kind of ice cream do you want?”
Nanako is a great tour guide. Though Yukari feels like she’s seen all of Inaba by the second street they wander down, with each building looking nearly the same aside from the storefronts, Nanako manages to hit all of the highlights.
“This is where Rei-chan and her parents live! I had my first ever sleepover here. But, when I got home, the house was a mess. Rei-chan really wants me to come over again, but Dad needs to be cleaner.”
“I found a little frog here by the shrine. I named him ‘Poki’ because that’s the sound that he made. I haven’t seen him since—Ah! Look, Yukari-san, there he is!”
“I dropped my homework in a rain puddle here. I was so mad because I spent all night working on it. Dad helped calm me down, though. He taught me this breathing exercise…in, two, three, four; out, two, three, four. Look, the wildflowers are pink this time!”
Nanako drags Yukari by the hand to crouch by the grass. She still holds the stick to her Garu Garu-kun popsicle, and uses it to point at the flowers like it’s a teacher’s rod. The heat has chased anybody with a modicum of sense indoors, but Yukari would never voice that. If she’s been having this much fun listening to Nanako, she can only imagine how much fun Nanako has been having, too.
Yukari reaches out and picks one of the flowers, then brushes Nanako’s hair behind her ear to tuck the flower behind it. Nanako’s eyes sparkle. She fumbles to grab another flower, and Yukari laughs as she leans down to let Nanako put it behind her ear.
“We’re matching now!” she exclaims. “Is pink your favorite color, too?”
Her tanktop and earrings must have given it away, but a traitorous part of her wonders if Nanako had immediately assumed that because of its association with femininity. “It is. Pink gerbera daisies are also my favorite flower. What’s yours, Nanako-chan?”
Nanako hums. This question must be important to her, judging by the way her brow furrows and her nose scrunches up. “Well, if gerbera daisies are your favorite flower, then they’re mine, too!”
“You don’t have to like something just because I do,” she says with a laugh. Nanako deflates, and she quickly adds, “But if you really think they’re pretty, then of course they can be your favorite.”
Nanako gasps. “Really? Yay!”
Yukari stands and holds a hand out to help Nanako to her feet. As Nanako’s tiny hand grips hers, warm and soft with little specks of dirt from poking around in the soil, her chest grows tight, thinking back to a time that never existed, her mother standing where she is right now and looking at a younger Yukari with anything but distaste. She doesn’t let it show on her face, pushing the thought aside, and Nanako tugs her along without a care in the world.
They stroll through the central shopping district. It’s a roundabout way to make it to the inn, judging by the map that Yukari had studied on the way here, but she would be remiss to deny Nanako the opportunity to once again give a running commentary of life in Inaba. The smell of freshly cooked tofu and steak follows them on their path. Although she feels bad for zoning out, it takes her back to Kyoto.
Back when life, if only for a while, felt like it would finally be okay.
The autumn air was crisp against Yukari’s face. She hugged herself, watching her feet so she didn’t veer into Makoto.
“Why do you wear a dress when it’s cold outside?” he asked.
She huffed. “You wouldn’t understand the sacrifices a girl makes to stay fashionable. Besides, it’s not like I’m freezing. My dress and leggings are lined with wool, after all.”
He held his arm out. Despite her words, she naturally gravitated toward him. As she looped her arm through his elbow, he pulled her close, and they slowed to a stop, turning so they could look over the Kamogawa River. She had already visited the river with Mitsuru, but somehow, with Makoto by her side, the setting sun looked even more beautiful.
“What do you think the rest of the year will look like?” she asked.
“Just the year?” he replied.
She rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. We weren’t able to stop the Dark Hour. We still have to find out what’s at the top of Tartarus. It just all feels so uncertain.”
“Hm.” He grew quiet, looking out over the river. She’d grown used to these moments of silence, as he tried to get his thoughts in order. His expression would never change, and he would focus on something in the distance that she was unable to see, but he would always come back to her. “I imagine we’re going to struggle. It’ll be difficult. But you’re by my side, so I think it’ll be okay.”
Despite her worries, his words made her smile. “Hey, when did you get so romantic?” She didn’t look up at him, though out of the corner of her eye, she could see him staring at her. “You’re right, though. I feel like I could take on whatever Tartarus throws at us, so long as it’s…well, us. So don’t go benching me, okay?”
“I won’t.” His torso against hers was a comforting warmth. If they could stay like this forever, she didn’t think she would mind. “What about next year? And the year after that?”
“Jeez, you sound like our teachers, asking about our five year plans,” she teased. It was a good question, though. What did the next five years look like? She was halfway through her second year, had yet to turn eighteen, and hadn’t even considered what she would do when she got older. She was so focused on figuring out why her dad had died and what the Dark Hour and Tartarus truly meant, that she had never stopped to wonder what came after those questions were answered.
Makoto didn’t push her to answer. Silent and steady, like an anchor in the ocean, he simply waited for her.
Only one thing was for certain: she wanted him to wait for her forever.
She didn’t say that, though, and blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Maybe a kid.”
His eyebrows raised. “Already? You’re a little young for a kid.”
She swatted his arm. “As if we’re not the same age!” She continued to stare out over the river, imagining what it would be like to see this view with a little one by her side. “I know that people who didn’t grow up in good homes are scared of being good parents. I think I’m scared of that, too. But…well, I want to try. Try to give someone a better childhood and help them grow up to be strong, not afraid of the world like I was. I want them to help people for the right reasons. I want to be there for someone the way my mom never was.”
A selfish part of her added, The way my dad never was, either. But that wasn’t true, was it? He always tried his best to raise her right, and in the end, he wanted to do right by the world, too.
The words left her in a rush, and she didn’t expect Makoto to answer right away. Hell, she didn’t expect any answer from him, since they were still young. It was crazy to expect (though she wanted to hope) that he would say something like—
“I guess that’ll be something to look forward to.”
Autumn turned to summer as heat rose to Yukari’s face. She pushed him, hoping that she wasn’t as red as she felt. “Y-You can’t just go saying things like that!”
Blunt as always, he simply stared back at her. “Why? It’s true.”
Her heart fluttered. Words hung on the tip of her tongue, honest but too soon to say aloud. Instead, she groaned and held her arm out. “Just…come back here, it’s cold again!”
“You were the one who pushed me away.”
“Makoto!”
He actually smiled at that. It was the faintest curve at the corner of his lips, but it was enough to make Yukari fall for him all over again.
Fall.
Falling.
Like the tears from Aigis’ face, speckled over Makoto’s skin, eyes closed and unburdened. Like Yukari herself to the ground, knees meeting concrete next to his never-waking form. Like each word on deaf ears, screaming so loud that her throat itself felt as though it would tear.
Nanako eventually leads her back to the Amagi Inn. Her chin dips toward her chest as she struggles to hide a pout. Yukari just barely manages to keep a smile from her face. “What’s wrong?”
“Are you going to be staying in Inaba for a long time?”
Oh, her heart. Yukari crouches next to Nanako and puts a hand behind her head. “Just for a few days, but we’ll hang out with you as much as we can.”
Just like that, Nanako perks up. “‘We?’”
“Me and my girlfriend. Her name is Mitsuru.”
Again, Nanako’s lips form a dark ‘o.’ “Like a close friend? Is she pretty?”
Somehow, even after months of hiding their relationship from Mitsuru’s company for fear of backlash, she still forgets that not everyone knows how normal it is for girls to date girls. “Yeah, she’s super pretty. Someday, I hope I’ll be able to marry her.”
“Marry? I thought only boys could marry girls.”
Yukari’s lips curl into a smile. She can’t be mad at Nanako for parroting what she’s been taught. “Well, sometimes people don’t always fit into what the world expects of us. If you think somebody is kind, strong, and pretty, it doesn’t really matter if they’re a girl or a boy. Everyone has to love someone, right?”
Nanako grins back. “Right!”
She’s certain Nanako’s father will have something to say about this newfound knowledge, but right now, she couldn’t care less. It’s just her and this little girl, so hurt by the world but so loving. This was how she should have been, too.
“Yukari-san…” Nanako gives her those doe eyes again. She could’ve asked Yukari for anything in that moment and Yukari would’ve done anything to get it. “Is it okay to call you Oneesan?”
She hopes Nanako can’t tell that her eyes are getting glossy. “Of course!” She clears her throat and stands up with her hands on her hips. “And as your new big sister, it’s only right for me to give you some advice, too!”
Nanako straightens up and copies Yukari’s pose.
One step forward, no matter what happens.
Always be there for yourself and your family.
And just because you’re strong, doesn’t mean you can’t treat yourself, too.
It’s funny. Though she says these things out loud to a comedically sagely-looking Nanako, she swears she sees her younger self standing in front of her instead.
When she’s done, Nanako reaches up, and Yukari takes her hand once more.
“My cousin is coming to stay with us in a few weeks,” Nanako says. “Do you think you’ll be here to meet him?”
A guy, huh? Yukari wishes she could say yes, but she and Mitsuru can only be here for so long. “I’m sorry, Nanako-chan, but we’ll be gone by then. Still, don’t let him boss you around just ‘cause he’s older! You’re the woman of the house, after all!”
She giggles and nods, pigtails bouncing. “Of course!”
The sound of wheels rolling against concrete interrupts their conversation, and Yukari’s heart skips a beat as she spots a familiar head of red hair coming up the path. Nanako gasps, covering her mouth with her free hand. “She’s so pretty!”
“Yeah, that’s Mitsuru,” Yukari says softly.
Mitsuru comes up to them, parking her suitcase next to Yukari’s. “You seem like you’ve been standing out here for an awfully long time,” she notes. “Hello, little one. What’s your name?”
Nanako clears her throat and bows deeply. “D-Dojima Nanako! Oneesan has told me a lot about you!”
She arches a perfectly shaped brow at Yukari. “Oh, has she, now? Then you know my name is Mitsuru. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Nanako-chan.”
Oh, jeez. Polite as always, even with children. Even so, Yukari knows she’s not imagining the pink flush on Mitsuru’s cheeks.
“Even the great Kirijo heiress isn’t immune to a little girl’s charm,” Yukari teases. Mitsuru swats her arm, which only serves to confirm her suspicions.
“Shall we treat you to dinner, Nanako-chan?” she asks. “It’s getting quite late, and I would hate for you to get home hungry.”
Nanako shakes her head. “No, I’m okay! I still have to go grocery shopping. I should have enough time before Dad gets home.”
Mitsuru casts a long glance in Yukari’s direction, and they both make the decision at the same time. “We’ll come with you, Nanako-chan,” Yukari says. “We just have to drop our things off. We’ll even help you cook!”
She gasps. “R-Really? You don’t have to do that! I can make it home by myself.”
“It wouldn’t be appropriate for us to let you do that,” Mitsuru objects. “Besides, cooking is always more fun with company.”
Nanako cheers and takes both of their hands. They lock eyes as they grab their things. Yukari knows that Mitsuru is thinking the same thing as her, that though this girl does not look like them, with darker hair and eyes, as she looks up at them,
they are younger, alone in the dark;
they are older, racing across the rooftop;
they are here, stronger from what they have been through.
And maybe, just maybe, everything will have been worth it—one homecooked meal at a time.