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Late in the afternoon, the sun begins to set over a snow-dusted Inaba, blanketing the westward rooftops in a warm, orange-yellow glow that sets them ablaze. And, as the town quiets, Yosuke is shuffling down the sidewalk, careful to avoid any hidden patches of ice that threaten spectacle, or worse, a bruised ego. With a large Junes bag in hand, grasped as firmly as he can through his rather cumbersome gloves, he makes his way towards the Dojimas’ home.
The air is frigid and sharp—an acknowledgement he makes despite his refusal to zip up his hefty white coat. Yosuke shivers, but he carries on past the open gate and into the lot’s narrow front yard, transferring the bag from his right hand to his left as he prepares to ring the doorbell.
He presses the bell firmly, stiff from the cold, and backs away from the door while he waits. The porch light is on, drip-drip-dripping with snowmelt in slow, steady intervals. The street behind him is empty, peaceful this time, rather than unsettling. He hopes he isn’t the last to arrive. He hopes he’s not the first, either.
Tensions have been high, as of late. The case is over, after so many months of fighting, confusion, setbacks, and a damn-well near tragedy, and Yosuke is more or less tapped out as the year comes to a close. His reflections on his life and the Investigation Team’s struggles are only complicated further by the highlights of the year, the good times—a trip to the beach, a school festival, study sessions, sleepovers—after everything that’s happened, so unimaginable it still feels impossible, his thoughts swirl around his mind unsynthesized, settling about as well as oil and water.
More still, there’s something else that’s been distracting Yosuke for the last few months, exponentially so after Nanako’s hospitalization. It’s his feelings, feelings he’s found hard to seriously express without deflection, but is he really to blame? Who has time for personal stuff when you’re out saving the world?
Yosuke knows he can’t hold onto his feelings forever. The problem is, he doesn’t fully know what it is he’s holding on to, what he wants to do when he lets go. Well, part of him does, but how to say it? Try as he might, not a single solution sticks. His vision blurs as he stares at his boots, adjusts his stance a little. A few doors down, someone’s decorative lights turn on—little dots of gold, green, and red dancing along the trim of their roof, hand-in-hand. He wonders if anyone knows what the best time of year is to ruin a friendship with a life-altering secret.
The front door opens. Yu stands in the doorway, slightly off-centre, body angled as if to say, “come on in.” He’s wearing a comfortable-looking gray sweater, unzipped partway down his chest to reveal the top two buttons and the collar of a blue-green button-up shirt, plaid for the holidays. Somewhere along the way, between the Junes food court and now, he’s lost the dark, lapelled jacket he’d taken to wearing as the weather grows colder. Yu’s eyes are soft, and he’s smiling, really smiling, a sight both relieving and intimidating for Yosuke.
“You made it,” Yu says. “You’re the first one here.”
“H-hey,” Yosuke replies, cursing internally. He clears his throat, swallowing the lump in it that he didn’t know was there. He thrusts the bag towards Yu, who accepts it without question. “Got the stuff for the drinks. Oh, and I brought some party favours, too. Holiday-themed, of course. They’re new this year,” he says.
“Thanks. I’m sure everyone will love these,” says Yu, peeking into the bag. He steps aside and lets Yosuke into the entryway, who slips out of his boots and leaves them on the nearby shoerack.
Shimmying out of his coat, Yosuke adds, “Yeah, some more than others.” He jabs a finger towards Yu in emphasis. “Teddie is banned, you hear? He got into them last night and went nuts. I almost died, slipping on the plastic bags he’d left all over my bedroom floor.”
“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Yu laughs, setting the bag of favours down next to the fridge.
“Trust me, partner, it’s for your own good.” Free from his jacket, Yosuke worries that he’s underdressed standing next to Yu. His typical orange v-neck shirt is thinner than he’d like, and he feels a bit exposed. He hugs his arms, gently rubbing up and down for some warmth. “You better close that door. It’s seriously getting cold out there.”
“Agreed,” Yu says, granting the request. He leads Yosuke to a vacant chair pulled away from the dining table, and motions for him to sit.
He does, but Yu remains standing. Yosuke assumes he must have been staring, because Yu’s content expression shifts, and he asks, “Are you okay?”
Caught off-guard, Yosuke doesn’t know what to say at first. Yes? No? That depends? He decides on: “Yeah, man, of course,” but it comes out almost unnatural, and he studies Yu’s face, praying that he buys it.
He doesn’t, or, if he does, he’s completely oblivious to the torturous effect he has on Yosuke. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says, looking just so. Damn. Sincere.
It makes Yosuke so nervous he feels sick, but it makes him happy, too.
The room is completely empty, and in a burst of courage, Yosuke decides that maybe there really is no time like the present. “Uh, hey,” he says.
“Hmm?”
“Can I—”
The doorbell rings, and muffled laughter emanates from outside.
“Sorry, Yosuke, hold that thought,” Yu says, hurrying back over to the entrance to invite Chie, Yukiko, and Rise inside.
“Hi you guys!” Rise sings. She gives Yu a deep, friendly hug and moves down the hall to let Yukiko and Chie say their greetings.
Rise pads into the kitchen, footfall softened by the oversized, fuzzy socks she’s wearing, and she comes to a stop next to Yosuke. Leaning on the table as supported by a folded arm, she says, “Aw, isn’t this just so nice? A Christmas party for the whole team!”
“And for Nanako,” Yukiko adds as she catches up to Rise.
Chie has brought her usual enthusiasm. “Yeah! It’s gonna be awesome!”
“Thanks for coming,” Yu says gracefully. He carries an unmarked box and a bag brimming with wrapping papers, bows, and ribbons into a room just off the kitchen; Yosuke watches him go.
When Yu returns, Chie grabs his attention. “We brought the stuff for the cake. I put it in the fridge already—hope that’s okay.”
“Of course. We’re… looking forward to it. I think,” Yu says.
“Don’t worry,” Rise assures the group. She crosses her arms, pouting. “Kanji’s taken over cake duty.”
“I don’t know if that’s better or worse,” Yosuke says. Yu, hovering behind his chair, puts a firm hand on his shoulder. It’s a much gentler reprimand than the kind he might have received from Kanji himself. Yosuke rolls his eyes. “I’m kidding.”
As the girls chat amongst themselves about the cake, Yu releases his grip on Yosuke’s shoulder. Yosuke almost mourns the loss of the touch. He thinks, better that than nothing at all.
Lowly, Yu speaks to him, leaning over the back of the chair. “Were you going to ask me something?”
“Oh, uh,” Yosuke says, suppressing a shudder. He looks at Yukiko, Chie, and Rise, happily talking, already enjoying the party before it’s even started. It’s the picture of friendship. He tries not to frown. “Nah. It was nothing.”
Yu raises an eyebrow, and Yosuke knows if he’s not buying it now, he didn’t buy it before. Damn, he thinks.
So Yosuke tells him, “Really, I’m great. Promise, partner.” He leans back to watch Yu circle around his chair, on his way to grab blankets for the couch, while saying something about the weather. When Yosuke sits back up again, Chie is watching him from across the kitchen, suspicion plastered on her face.
He pretends like he doesn’t notice.
The doorbell rings again, and Kanji, Naoto, and Teddie enter the house.
“I dunno who this is,” Kanji says, loosely pointing at Teddie. “We found him on the side of the road. Maybe a lost pet?”
“Not funny!” Teddie protests. “And I’m not even in my bear-utiful form,” he says, hugging himself. “Just because it’s Christmas doesn’t mean that Santa stops writing the naughty list, you know!”
“You shut your mouth! I’m nice-list name number one!”
Naoto pushes past the bickering friends and gives a polite hello to Yu, entrusting a small, meticulously wrapped item in the palm of his hand, its tag addressed to Nanako. She keeps her coat on for the time being, but takes off her hat, hanging it on a spare hook in the hallway.
Shortly after, Nanako arrives with Dojima, and the whole of the Investigation Team rejoices at her return. Dojima reminds them not to crowd his daughter, but he has to really put up a fight trying to prevent all the hugs and high-fives they’d saved up during her time away from home.
Everyone has made it to the party, and Yosuke still hasn’t talked to Yu. Now, he’s not even sure if he can.
A little while later, Yosuke is in the kitchen while the rest of the partygoers congregate around the living room kotatsu, as he prepares a tray of drinks. He lets the counter support him as he leans back, waiting for the electric kettle to come to a boil. He sets teabags in some of the mugs; a few spoonfuls each of hot chocolate powder in the others. The room is loud and festive, and Yosuke soaks up the playful scene. He zeroes in on Yu, sitting on the couch and laughing along to a joke he doesn’t get to hear, when his view is completely blotted out—a total Chie eclipse.
“Yosuke!” she barks, startling him so much that he knocks a metal teaspoon off the countertop.
“What the hell is wrong with you!?” He bends over to pick up the spoon, and Chie leans in, hands on her hips, eyes narrowed.
“What the hell is wrong with you? Didn’t think I’d notice, huh?”
Yosuke tries her bluff. He rinses the spoon under some hot water, drying it with a nearby dishtowel, and sets it down on the tray. Back turned to Chie, he asks, “Notice what?”
“That you’ve been ogling Yu all night!”
Yosuke whirls to face her, gripping the tray hard. “I have not! Don’t use words if you don’t know what they mean,” he hisses.
Chie bumps him with her hip. “Move over so that I can look busy.”
He moves, begrudgingly, and watches as the kettle clicks off, thick bubbles rolling inside.
Chie plays with the tags on the teabags. “Ogling aside,”
“Quit saying that!”
“Whatever,” she says. “Point is, something’s on your mind. Did you guys have a fight or something?”
More so than embarrassed, Yosuke’s upset that he let her get under his skin, telling her, “What you’re saying right now proves to me that you’ve got no idea what’s going on.” The contents of the kettle sufficiently calmed, he grabs its handle and pours the hot water into the first mug in small circles, being sure to keep the teabag down with a spoon. “And for your information, no, we’re not fighting.”
A grin overtakes Chie’s face, like she’s possessed by Mischief itself. Yosuke tries not to look at her. “Oh… you don’t hate him, you love him,” she says, slow and drawn out. Her giggle is monstrous.
Yosuke nearly chokes. “Not another peep!” He moves from one mug to the next, sinking teabags and stirring cups of hot chocolate.
She gives him a shove and he nearly spills the mug he’s holding. When he stares her down, she responds with a curt apology, but he can tell she’s largely unbothered. “You totally love him, though! Admit it!”
Yosuke sighs and his shoulders depress with him. “I… I don’t know, maybe,” he says, still questioning her motive. He carefully opens a bag of miniature marshmallows, but abandons it on the tray so he can cover his eyes. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this first.”
“He doesn’t know?” she asks, wide-eyed.
“No, he doesn’t. And he better not find out,” says Yosuke, gravely.
“You’re not gonna tell him?”
Yosuke adds a handful of marshmallows to each mug of cocoa, checking on the colour of each cup of tea. “I don’t know how. And besides, I don’t wanna do it in front of everybody.”
“Gimme a break!” Chie’s tone is a little insensitive, and when she sees how Yosuke just frowns, her face softens. She pauses to think, taking the bag of marshmallows from Yosuke and shelving it in the cabinet above her. “I know I said that we should have this party for Nanako, since she’s home safe and all…”
“Chie—”
She hushes him. “Listen first, complain after! This party is mostly about Nanako, because we all love her, but it's about other things, too. It’s about the case, about our friends…” she looks to the living room and at the smiles on everyone’s faces. “Don’t forget that you’re celebrating all that, too. Out of the whole year, I don’t know if there’s been a better time to say how you feel; surrounded by people who care about you.”
Chie’s face scrunches up in annoyance when Yosuke says nothing, clearly doubtful. “Don’t look so shocked! Can’t a girl give her friend some advice?”
Yosuke goes back to arranging the nearly complete drink tray. “Sorry, sorry. Um, thanks, Chie,” he says.
“You’re welcome,” she replies with a flourish.
“So, how should I tell him?”
She stares blankly. “No clue! You’ll figure it out, buddy.” She gives him two forceful pats on the back which Yosuke only somewhat appreciates, and turns on her heel to face the living room again.
“Hold it,” Yosuke says. She stops. “This stays between us, got it? I’m serious.” He hopes she understands without him having to beg.
“I gotcha.” She cups her mouth with her hands. “Drinks are ready—made by yours truly!” she calls.
The rest of the group hurry to the dining table where Yosuke presents the drinks, ensuring everyone’s taken care of. When Yu tries to take his tea from Yosuke, he’s already searching the table for something. Yosuke doesn’t let go of the mug, and Yu looks up, confused.
“I stirred in a little extra sugar for you,” Yosuke says with a wink.
Yu seems pleased. “Just how I like it,” he says.
“You know it, partner!”
Satisfied, Yosuke tidies the tray a little, at last letting himself get absorbed into a conversation between Teddie and Rise while everyone mills about, sponging up every drop of comfort from their drinks.
*
“You have to believe me, Rise! I think that place has something against bear-kind!”
“Teddie, I’m like, ninety-nine percent sure that the only reason they kicked you out of the karaoke booth was because of your singing.”
“Ugh! How you wound my ears, and worse, my heart! A star, talking down another…”
“Wound your ears?”
At this point, Yosuke mentally checks himself out. One topic rolls into the next, punctuated by some sort of argument each time—he can’t take any more. So, when he’s certain neither Rise nor Teddie are looking, he sets down his now empty mug on a small, vacant accent table, and slinks over to the Christmas tree set up in the room’s corner.
Yosuke takes a moment to admire it. The tree isn’t much taller than he is, which is probably for the best based on the size of the living room. The decorations are eclectic—string-lights of every colour spiral up the tree, criss-crossing crinkly strands of tinsel, and nearly every available limb is adorned with ornaments of all shapes and sizes. He gently lifts a plush, heart-shaped ornament towards him, careful not to disturb anything around it. Light green thread is stitched into bright red fabric, endearingly a little wonky, reading: for my big bro.
Yosuke smiles, and cranes his neck trying to locate Yu, difficult even in such a small room, when someone pops out from behind the tree. He lets the ornament swing back into place, nestling into the tree’s false needles. Yukiko is waving at him.
“Is everyone trying to scare me tonight? It’s Christmas, not Halloween!”
“Sorry, Yosuke! I’m just working on finishing up the tree,” Yukiko says.
Yosuke studies the decor again. “It’s not done?”
Yukiko giggles. “No, silly! I still have to hang a few things on the back,” she explains.
“Won’t we only see the front?”
Yukiko clicks her tongue, fussing with the placement of a large glass snowflake. “The back of the tree is just as important!” She takes a few steps away, nearly pressing herself against the sliding doors that lead to the backyard, and evaluates her work. “Much better,” she decides.
“Well, looks like you’ve got it covered. I’ll leave you to it,” Yosuke says, turning away from the tree.
“Not so fast,” Yukiko says, and Yosuke turns back. “I heard that you’ve got your own project going on.”
“Project?” asks Yosuke.
“Yes! You’re going to tell Yu that—”
“Lower your voice!” he urges. “Who told you that?”
They both look over to the couch, where Chie sits. She gives them a wave and a wide smile.
Yosuke groans. “Why am I even surprised?”
“Give her some credit, Yosuke. She only told me because she’s worried.”
“What she should be worried about is her own involvement,” he says. He sighs heavily. “What do you know?”
Yukiko blinks, innocent. “That you have something very special to say to Yu,” she says, “and that you don’t know how.”
“Maybe I do. But I didn’t want it to be everybody’s business!”
Ignoring him, Yukiko asks, “Have you thought about what you’re going to say?”
“Sort of,” Yosuke replies. “Am I supposed to write it out?”
“Definitely not,” Yukiko says, laughing lightly. “The best confessions I’ve heard felt pretty spontaneous. Each of them were different, but one thing was the same,” she advises. “They were all being honest.”
“Honest, huh?”
“Yep. You don’t need to have an eloquent speech ready—just speak from the heart!”
“From the heart… I guess that makes sense,” Yosuke muses. He looks at the ceiling, considering Yukiko’s words.
“Yeah! When the person confessing to you is honest, it makes the let down a little easier,” she says, her voice high and sweet.
Yosuke’s faith in himself drains from his body. “Gee, thanks.”
Yukiko covers her mouth with a hand, somehow surprised at herself. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean it like that! I’m sure he’ll accept. Just stay positive!”
“But, how—”
“Attention everyone!” Rise has her hands held high as she stands at the edge of the room. The chatter dies down at first to a murmur, then to nothing. “I think it’s time for a game. Any ideas?”
Chie speaks up after a brief silence. “King’s—”
Yu, leaning on the arm of the couch with a hand on top of Nanako’s head, says, “Let’s not.” When she looks up at him from her seat on the couch confused, he just smiles and ruffles her hair.
Teddie claps his hands together. “I know!” He clambers over to Rise, bouncing on his feet. “Let’s play charades! I’ll go first…”
Everyone watches intently as Teddie flexes, twists, jumps, and dances around the room, bursts of wild flailing halted only by sudden, strange poses that he holds for just a second or two. “Come on!” he cries, spinning around in a circle until pausing to try and resemble… something. “Guess, guess!”
“A weirdo,” Chie says, her voice laced with annoyance.
Teddie drops his pose and pouts. “I’m someone playing charades. Isn’t it obvious!?” he complains.
The room breaks out in laughter, Teddie included.
“Charades it is,” Rise announces, “but please somebody else go next.”
Everyone takes their place around the kotatsu and the sofa, and Yosuke somehow gets pushed to the other side of the room, opposite to Yu. As Naoto is elected to go first and begins her performance, shaking her head at wrong guesses being shouted out, Yosuke watches Yu’s profile. It’s nice to see him so relaxed, laughing along with the group and watching the game enthusiastically, giving a few guesses of his own. The lights from the meticulously decorated tree sparkle in his eyes, and Yosuke focuses so hard on the silver of his hair, the steep edge of his nose, that he almost misses his turn.
Kanji appears right in front of him. “Dude, you’re up.”
Yosuke uncrosses his legs and takes his spot at the front of the room. He thinks up an animal to be, and decides that a reindeer will make for an almost instant round. He makes eye contact with Yu, sharing a smile, and has never been more grateful that charades is a silent game.
*
After the games end and the group disperses into conversation once more, Yosuke finds his hand being yanked, stealing him away to a side room on the main floor of the Dojima residence.
The room’s panelled door is shut hard, blocking out the last of the light. In the darkness, Yosuke can’t tell which way is left or right. He asks, “What’s going on?” though he knows better than to expect an answer.
The lights are switched on, flickering to life and forcing him to squint. He blinks a couple times as his eyes adjust. There, standing in front of him is Rise.
The room is small, and mostly full of cardboard boxes, only some of them full. On a small, worn table is a different kind of box, bright pink and glittery, with a clear, plastic window to protect its contents while showing them off.
Rise grabs a roll of wrapping paper, and fishes around an old grocery bag left on the floor until she finds a package of pre-made bows and a few spools of ribbon.
“Is this what you came in here for?” Yosuke asks.
“It is,” Rise says matter-of-factly. “Now,” she asks, holding one arm up at a time, “ribbons, or bows?”
“For Nanako?” When Rise nods, he has his answer.
“Both,” they say at the same time.
After establishing their agreement, she walks around the table and begins wrapping the present. “It’s a new Loveline detective kit, promo for the movie that’s coming out next year,” Rise says. “I had the manufacturer set one aside for me before they sold out.”
“Wow,” Yosuke says, impressed. “Does Yu know you intend to show him up?”
Rise laughs. “I’m sure he does, but I’d like to see him try to out-gift this!” She tapes the last open side of the wrapping paper down, flush with the edges of the box. “Funny that you should mention him, though…”
Yosuke gulps.
“Going after Yu’s heart, hmm? I can’t say I’m surprised,” she says. She eyes him, sly, but turns her attention back to the gift as she cuts the first length of ribbon—shiny, striped pink and white. “I guess I was still holding out for him,” Rise says, sighing.
Yosuke scoffs, shaking his head. “And who did you hear this from?”
“Yukiko,” Rise states. “Who else?”
Yosuke’s hardly shocked. “Right.”
“So? Is it true?” she asks, affixing one, two, three bows to the gift’s corner. She straightens one ribbon as she prepares to curl another.
Yosuke crosses his arms. “It’s true,” he says, though even this confession doesn’t come easy.
Rise’s ruse of indifference is over as soon as Yosuke confirms the rumour. “Ah! I knew it, I knew it!” she squeals. She abandons the box and grabs Yosuke’s hands, jumping up and down. “You’re going to confess your love for Yu!”
“Hang on,” he says, cupping a hand over her mouth. “Nobody said anything about ‘confessing’ any ‘love,’ okay? Not in so many words…”
Rise leans back and frees herself from silence. “Oh, but you are going to, aren’t you? You have to! It’s the most romantic time of year!”
Yosuke lets her go. “You really think so?”
Astonishment possessing her face, Rise grows serious. “I know so! It’s Christmas, Yosuke—are you dense!?”
“Hey!” After three discussions with three different people, mostly against his will, Yosuke feels overall more insulted than encouraged. “All I know so far is that I should talk to Yu and that if I do, I need to be honest about my feelings,” he says. “Allegedly.”
“When you talk to Yu,” Rise corrects, “you need to set the mood.” She puts one arm behind her back, and points another at the ceiling. “And don’t you fret, because the Love Doctor is in!”
Yosuke beelines it to the door. “Actually, I think I’m cured!”
Rise cuts him off, throwing her arms out and barricading him inside the room. “Wait! Wait, Yosuke, this is important! As my patient, I need you to hear me out.”
“Fine.”
Assuming a guise of professionalism, Dr. Rise begins her list of instructions. “One: set the mood. Find a mistletoe, or light a bunch of candles, or ooh, ooh—play him a song! You can play the guitar, right?”
Yosuke presses his lips thin. “Kinda, but I didn’t bring mine with me. And I definitely didn’t bring any candles.”
“Oh. Okay, moving on, step two: you have to choose the right words! You know, use the language of love…” Rise says, her voice smooth. “Compliment his hair, his clothes, his face—and then tell him why.”
“Tell him why?”
“Yeah, silly! When you confess anything, you gotta mean it. Like, okay, say something like: your eyes are so beautiful that I can’t help but get lost in them…”
“That’s such a cliché, and besides, that breaks your own rule! What’s the ‘why’ supposed to be?”
“Or, how about: you look so good in that jacket, and I bet it’s because what’s underneath is even better!”
Yosuke’s cheeks flush red. “Rise!” he sputters. “Come on, this is ridiculous. I’m just trying to… to talk to him, tell him that I like him, not that I want to get into his pants!”
Rise’s eyes narrow and a smile stretches across her face. It reminds Yosuke of Chie, and he shudders at the thought. “So this is about his pants now, eh? I see, Yosuke, I get it, I do.”
“What? No, this is specifically not about his pants. Why are we even talking about this?”
“Step three, language of love part two: talking with your bodies. There comes a time in every young man’s life where—”
“I’m done,” Yosuke says.
He shoulders past Rise and flings the door open, moving with mechanical intent before she can trap him again. He flees, her protest muted by the door he shuts behind him. “Aw, we haven’t even got to the kissing part! That’s the best one!”
Yosuke sighs and drags his hands down his face, trying to regain at least some composure. On his right, someone whispers harshly. He peeks through his fingers.
“Psst, over here.” Kanji beckons him into the kitchen with a clunky wave. As Yosuke approaches, Kanji shuts the oven door and removes a pair of padded oven mitts from his hands. He’s wearing an apron patterned with happy little gingerbread cookies and other holiday sweets, tied into a bow at the back.
“What’s up?” Yosuke asks, sniffing the air. “Something smells good.”
“Thanks. I put the cake in the oven a little while ago. It’s almost done,” Kanji says. “Need your help with the decoration. Strawberries are a classic, but d’ya think everyone would want somethin’ different?”
“Uh, I don’t know. What do you have?”
“Strawberries.”
“Then why ask!?”
“I dunno! I thought maybe you’d know what Yu’s got stashed away in the fridge, since you’re over here all the damn time. Whatever, man, just grab the milk for me, would ya?” Kanji opens a bag of icing sugar and dumps part of it into a wide, glass bowl.
Yosuke grumbles to himself, but opens the refrigerator anyway. While retrieving the milk needed, he checks the narrow shelves on the inner side of the fridge door and spies a jar of cherries, which he definitely, absolutely, did not know was there. He hands both the cherries and the milk to Kanji. “Here.”
“Thanks,” says Kanji. He starts slowly mixing the milk into the bowl in a thin, steady stream.
“I’m not here all the time,” Yosuke mumbles, staring at the sink.
“What’d you say?” Kanji asks. They don’t look at each other.
“I’m not—I haven’t been here in a while, actually.”
“Is that what’s been goin’ on?”
“Who spilled?”
“Nobody. Figured it out myself,” Kanji says, still stirring. He tests the icing’s viscosity, and adds another splash of milk. “Have the others been givin’ you a hard time?”
Yosuke leans on the counter, folding his arm up and resting his chin in his palm. “I’ve been giving myself a hard time,” he admits.
“Yu’s an interesting guy. Whatever you’ve gotta say to ‘im, say it to his face. Don’t let it come from somebody else.”
“I just keep thinking, what if I screw it all up, you know? Put my foot in my mouth, like usual, and… push him away.”
Kanji tests the icing again, smiling when it runs fast and strong from the spoon. He sets the bowl aside, and checks the oven’s timer. “You won’t. This might sound rich comin’ from me, but the best thing you can do is be yourself.” A smirk crosses his face. “Maybe you shouldn’t do that, since you’re kinda—”
“Don’t finish that,” Yosuke says, pointedly. “Thanks, man. For the nice parts.”
“You bet. Now get out of here. This sucker needs time to cool before we can eat.”
When the cake is ready, Kanji brings it out to the kotatsu to be cut and served. It’s decorated with slices and halves of strawberries, arranged in semi-circles with the cherries at their centres. A few sprigs of herbs tie-in the holiday look, and the whole party is excited to each get their piece.
After everyone is served and happily attacking their plates, Dojima clears his throat from his isolated seat on the couch. “I have to thank all of you once again.”
A certain seriousness sweeps over the table, and Dojima continues. “Adachi’s going to pay for his crimes. This was one strange case, with some explanations that I still don’t believe. But, I suppose some things in this world just can’t be explained.”
He adjusts his posture, addressing Yu specifically. “You’ve helped us out so much,” Dojima says, giving an awkward laugh. “It was really meant to be the other way around. There’s not much time left until spring, but I hope we can do some catching up until then.”
The sentiment is felt, to be sure—Yosuke knows he isn’t the only one happy that the case is over, and that Nanako is safe and sound. But Dojima’s words have a sombre weight to them, one that the Investigation Team as a whole had nearly forgotten in their celebrations. It comes with an uncomfortable implication, a reality that Yosuke’s been gripped with at the end of every school day, after every phone call reluctantly hung up. Yu will be leaving Inaba.
Yu shifts in place, wearing a half-hearted smile, and Yosuke misses the real ones from earlier. He nudges Yu with an elbow when he sees just how down the group has gotten. His feelings are his own, and he hopes they’re not quite the same ones held by the rest of his friends, but there’s more people than just him who care about their leader; their dear friend.
“C’mon, spring’s a long ways off, right?” Yosuke asks rhetorically, trying to bring the mood back up. “Let’s have all the fun we can until then!”
Teddie brightens first, followed by the other members of their group, and brightest of all, Nanako smiles again, too.
“Hurry and finish your cake, everyone! I want to play more games!” Teddie demands.
“Yes,” Naoto says. “And I believe there may be some gifts that Nanako has yet to receive.”
“Really?” Nanako asks, eyes wide and shining.
Life returns to the living room, and the brief lapse into the bittersweet is forgotten by all except Yosuke. He smiles along, but eats quietly, sitting next to Yu who does the same.
Slipping away from the group, Yosuke departs for the washroom, only to round the stairway corner and bump into Naoto, returning from upstairs.
“Crap, sorry. I wasn’t paying attention,” Yosuke says.
“Neither was I. Apologies.”
A moment from going their separate ways, Naoto stops him. “Yosuke,” she says, “is there anything I can do to help you?”
“I guess you’ve already figured me out.”
She simply nods.
Yosuke sucks in a breath. “Know how to talk about your feelings?”
“I see. Um, no, not really,” she replies, shrinking a bit, but she doesn’t shy away from the problem at hand. “Am I correct in thinking that you are afraid to sacrifice a friendship over a… confession?”
“Yeah, and to be honest, I’m getting kinda desperate.”
She gives him a sympathetic look. “Perhaps establishing that this friendship is important to you is enough. I am sure that, whatever happens, it will result in an outcome that is at least acceptable, if not favourable to you.” She lets out a sigh, more like a puff of air, and watches Kanji arm-wrestle with Teddie over the dining table. “I’m sorry to say that this is advice I myself struggle to follow.”
“That’s okay,” Yosuke says, though in truth, he wishes that she could just produce a direct answer to his problems. “Thanks anyway.”
They part, and Yosuke carries on up the stairs, his thoughts thoroughly clouding his mind.
Upon his return, Yosuke’s heart practically drags him down, as he collapses into a seated position at the kotatsu. On the opposite side, Teddie is helping Nanako to use a pair of scissors, although Yosuke thinks it should be the other way around. “What are you guys doing?” he asks, doing nothing to mask the obvious strain in his voice.
“We’re making snowflakes!” Nanako says, cheery.
“Yeah, Yosuke,” says Teddie, “lots and lots of them, to decorate the house! Are you gonna make some with us?”
“No thanks, Ted. I’ll just watch,” Yosuke says dejectedly. He folds his arms on top of the table, and rests his head over them.
Teddie frowns. “Is something wrong? Is it the snowflakes?”
“It’s not the snowflakes,” says Yosuke, watching the lights change on the tree. A string of gold lights, so deep in colour they could almost be orange, snake down the tree parallel to a string of silvery ones, never touching. He turns away. “I’ve just got some stuff I wanna say to a friend—oh, whatever—to Yu.”
“What kind of stuff?”
Yosuke watches Nanako, putting so much of herself into the paper crafts that her tongue pokes out of her mouth in concentration. “Lots of stuff, personal stuff. Stuff he’s never heard before,” he says. “Not from me, at least.”
“Teddie understands! Why don’t you just wrap him up in a great, big, bear-hug!? One of those says a million words, after all!”
Yosuke almost laughs. “It’s a little more complicated than that.”
“What!?” Teddie says, recoiling. “More complicated than a million words? You better not hurt him, Yosuke, or I swear—”
“Relax, I’m not trying to hurt him!” He tenses. If anything, it might be Yu causing the hurt. “A bear-hug just won’t cut it.”
Nanako drops the marker she’d been colouring with, and raises her head. “Yosuke, do you have something to say to my big bro?” she asks.
Yosuke blinks. “Uh, yeah, Nanako, I do.”
She cocks her head sideways, staring almost right through to his soul. “Why don’t you just talk to him?”
For a moment, or maybe much longer, Yosuke is frozen in place as the gears in his mind start to turn. Just talk to him, he thinks. Could it really be that simple? The more he contemplates it, the more the force that had been strangling his heart loosens its hold. “Nanako…” he says. “You’re a genius! You’re right. All this worrying means nothing if I never do anything—I just have to talk to him.”
Yosuke stands up from the kotatsu, reinvigorated. Pressing a palm down flat on the tabletop, he promises Nanako, “Ice cream on me the next time you’re at Junes.”
“Yay! Thank you Yosuke!” she says, eagerly returning to her crafting with Teddie.
There’s only one, small flaw to his plan. Yu is nowhere in sight. He glances towards the sideroom, the door still closed from before; he takes a peek up into the stairway hall, also empty. He approaches Naoto who lounges in the kitchen, nursing another cup of tea.
“Have you seen Yu anywhere?”
She eyes the entryway, tipping her head towards it. “I believe he went outside a few moments ago.”
“Outside? Alone?”
She nods, sipping from her mug.
Though he means to speak louder, he merely whispers a quick “Thanks,” hastily stuffing himself into his coat and stepping into his boots. Halfway dressed for the weather, he opens the front door and steels himself against the blast of nighttime, winter air.
The first thing Yosuke notices is that Yu is sitting atop the garden-bed pavers, swiped clear of snow. The second thing he notices is that Yu has noticed him. Their eyes meet, and Yosuke follows Yu’s up towards the sky and to the third thing he notices—it’s snowing. Slow, heavy snowflakes dot the endless dark of the night sky as they drift their way down to the ground. Footsteps crunching on frozen earth, Yosuke approaches Yu, who sweeps a spot next to him on the edge of the empty garden.
“Hey,” Yosuke breathes. The stone beneath him is cold, and he shimmies a bit trying to sit on the edge of his own jacket.
“Hey,” Yu parrots. “How’d you find me?”
“Partner’s intuition,” Yosuke says with a shrug. When Yu quirks a doubtful eyebrow, Yosuke coughs and says, “Naoto told me.”
“Right,” Yu nods. “That sounds more likely.”
Yosuke gives him a playful shove. “I would’ve found you! Just… maybe not as fast.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Yu teases.
Yosuke gawks. “So that’s how it’s gonna be? Wow, I mean, you of all people… from town hero to town menace!”
Yosuke is proud that he makes Yu laugh. When they quiet down, Yosuke clasps his hands together, in the middle of his lap, and looks up at the sky. A round, yellow moon shines above them, peppered with snow that moves in slow-motion. It glows a hazy, rusty orange, simmering over a backdrop of dark blues. He sighs.
Yu pokes at him, gently. “Yosuke?”
“I missed this.”
“Making fun of me?”
Yosuke chuckles, but he can’t laugh away the nerves that make his core feel tight, trapping a mess of fluttery feelings inside. “Yeah, I miss goofing off, but, more seriously…” he looks to Yu, feeling his eyebrows draw together ever so slightly. “I missed talking. I missed listening. I missed, well, you.”
“I missed you too,” says Yu, smiling softly.
Yosuke lets out a weak, two-syllable laugh, almost self-conscious, face warm against the chill of the outdoors. “Not that I want you missing people all the time, but, it kind of feels good hearing you say that. Like, knowing it’s not just me.” He inspects his boots; draws an arc in the snow. “Guess I’m gonna have to get used to that, yeah? Missing you,” he says.
Yu sags. “Yeah.”
Yosuke wants to slap himself. “I’m sorry, partner, I didn’t—”
“But it’s like you said,” Yu begins, stopping Yosuke before he digs himself into a hole he can’t climb out of. “Spring’s a long way away. We’ve got time.”
“You’re right. In any case, that’s not what I want to talk about right now.”
“Oh?”
“I mean, I will at some point, but, later, ‘long ways off’ and stuff.” He swats the thought away. His nerves linger.
“Then, what did you want to talk about?” Yu asks.
The most dangerous question of all.
“I…” is all Yosuke can manage before the walls of the dam he’s built up over the last few months, maybe the last year, finally give way.
“I’m just so sorry about everything that’s happened,” Yosuke says. “These past two months have been the hardest of the entire year—maybe—probably the hardest of my entire life.”
Yosuke’s breath is shaky, and it’s not because of the cold. He grasps Yu’s shoulders, squeezing them through his winter jacket. “To say I’m glad that everything’s over is a massive understatement. Seeing Nanako here tonight, happy, healthy… I can’t even imagine how you feel about it.”
He relaxes his grip, smoothing out the sleeves of Yu’s jacket. “I can’t believe that you led us through it—the battles with Shadows, Adachi, the case as a whole, all while Nanako was… it’s astonishing,” Yosuke confesses. “But then again, maybe not. Maybe it makes perfect sense that you were the one to lead us, because I can’t think of anyone who would have done even half as damn good of a job as you.”
He feels lighter already as his thoughts pour out of him, but Yosuke sort of wants to cry. “I couldn’t find the words for anything when all of that was going down. I don’t even know if I said anything remotely smart, or helpful, or if I said anything at all,” he says. He rubs the back of his neck, guilt creeping up on him. “I’ve wanted to say so much crap to you for, like, forever, but it’s been so busy and there’s never been a good time.” He collects himself again.
“I’ve been thinking,” Yosuke begins slowly. “I’ve been thinking that I’m so happy that you came here, to Inaba, that you became my friend—my partner. I’m so grateful that you’ve stuck by me, especially when you didn’t have to. But…”
Yu’s voice is so soft, so quiet, that Yosuke feels lucky to have heard it at all. “But…?”
“I’ve been thinking about something else, wishing for it. Man, I’ve been talking about it all night long and I still don’t really know how to say it,” Yosuke says.
He considers the advice of all his friends. That there’s no better time than now to be honest, to say what you need, how you feel—that it’s worth the risk, because something like love is on the line, and that all Yosuke really has to do to make it happen is talk to Yu.
So, he keeps talking. “I’ve got feelings for you! Big ones. A lot of them,” he blurts. “Obviously.” Yosuke buries his face in his hands. Panic crosses his mind and he lifts his head back up, swiftly, looking squarely at Yu. “Um, romantic ones. Just thought I’d throw that out there, you know… in case it wasn’t clear.” He grimaces. “Look, it’s okay if—”
Yu crushes him in a hug. A true hug, full of care and comfort, the kind that’s like your last one on Earth, or maybe your very first. Decidedly not a bear-hug—Yosuke wouldn’t dare give Teddie the satisfaction of a good idea. He returns the embrace, squeezing Yu closer in desperation, breathing hard.
Eventually, Yu leans back in small, subtle movements, gently releasing Yosuke as if he’s afraid he’ll scare him off. He calls Yosuke’s name airily, and Yosuke hopes that what he’s hearing is a happy form of disbelief. “I have feelings for you too,” he says. “Big ones. A lot of them.”
Yosuke laughs, weightlessly. “Good, good.” He laughs more; whoops, cheering with clenched fist. “Yes! Hell yeah, thank…” he sinks into the mound of snow behind him, careful not to fall on the half-buried spokes of a tomato trellis. “Thank goodness.”
Yu lets him lie there, but only for a moment. “Come on, you’ll freeze,” he says, helping Yosuke to sit back up. He brushes the snow off Yosuke’s shoulders for him, smiling all the while.
They sit close together now, nearly pressed against each other. It might be closer than they’ve ever sat before—though Yosuke believes that to be impossible. This has been a long time coming. He lets the relief sink in, bone-deep. “I have to admit,” he says, “I had fun tonight at the party, but man, I just kept thinking about—”
“Me?”
“What else is new, right?”
“I was thinking about you too.”
“You were?”
“I was. I watched you spend time with each of our friends, my family, and I thought about how much I loved the sight of it.”
Yosuke’s laughter is tinged with nervousness. “Love?”
“Yes,” Yu whispers.
Without realizing it, Yosuke had moved in even closer, the faux fur that lines his hood now nearly brushing Yu’s cheek. Rather than sitting in parallel, their bodies point inward, towards each other.
“I was thinking about something else, too. I’m thinking about it now,” Yu says, still hushed, audible only to Yosuke’s ear. A secret even to the snow.
Yosuke tests Yu—he places a hand over his knee, leans in further. Their noses almost touch, and he tilts his head ever so slightly to accommodate. When Yu doesn’t pull away, he remains firm. They’re so close now that it’s hard to look Yu in the eyes, so instead he lets himself glance down at his lips.
One of them moves in first, finally bridges that gap—Yosuke doesn’t care who. All that matters to him is that they’re kissing, he’s kissing Yu and Yu is kissing him and it’s accented by just a hint of sugar; he moves his hand down Yu’s shoulder to let Yu slide the palm of his hand up along his jaw, cupping Yosuke’s cheek. When they break, neither Yosuke nor Yu are too eager to move away. They catch their breaths, pleased and peaceful.
“You’ve been thinking about that all night?” Yosuke asks, only feeling stupid until Yu laughs.
“So what? You weren’t?”
They give each other a little more space, and Yosuke fixes his jacket. “I didn’t say that, it’s just… I didn’t think you were that kind of guy,” he quips.
Yu stares at him through eyes half-lidded. “And what if I am?”
Before Yosuke works himself up too much, he takes a deep breath. “We’ve got plenty of time, Yu. Plenty of time,” he says with a smile, and most of him means it.
The wind picks up, and a gust stronger than before swirls some of the finer, icier snow up off the ground and into the air, causing Yosuke to shiver in his open jacket. “It’s chilly out here, partner. We should probably join the others.” He gets up, offering a hand to Yu for the taking. “Party’s still kickin’, I bet!”
Yu rises with him, setting himself straight, and together they make the short trip from the garden to the house’s front, admiring some of the best snowfall they’d seen all season among the stars that blend right in with it.
“Um…” Yosuke says. “I bet the reason why you look so good in that jacket is, because, uh…”
“What’s that?” Yu asks, diverting his attention from the sky to Yosuke.
“Long story. I’ll tell you about it later.” Yosuke grabs hold of the front door’s handle, bowing a little to Yu. “After you,” he says as he twists the knob.
Instead of watching his partner become lit up by the warm lights glowing inside the house, a shadow is cast over Yu’s figure, and something blocks their way. The whole of the Investigation Team is piled on top of each other, leaning so heavily against the door that when it swings open, they spill out onto the porch, one after another.
Teddie, crushed at the bottom, squeaks, “Retreat! Retreat! Our cover is blown,” with one arm outstretched, clawing for freedom. “Save me… a party… favour…” he gasps.
The scene is so absurd that any annoyance or embarrassment that Yosuke might have otherwise felt is instantly replaced with pure amazement. He laughs harder than he had all night, barely getting through a single sentence. “What… the hell… is this!?”
Thankfully, with no injuries sustained, it’s laughter that the whole team shares, at least, after they scrape Teddie off the porch.
As the moon wanders across the holiday sky, there’s only one thought worth considering still on Yosuke’s mind: that he wouldn’t dream of a better party, better friends, or a better partner.