Chapter Text
January has never been a good month for him. He hated the cold, no matter how many sweaters, blankets and comforters he put on himself he’s never seemed to chase away that persistent sensation of deep cold, the one that permeates into his bones, making him feel as if his bone marrow has turned into raw unpleasantness, his skin and meat useless at stopping the warmth from deserting him, leaving him all alone, sad, with no quant of heat left to spare. Especially so in the mornings.
Yu suspects that physical heat has only ever been part of the problem, however. Even in the past winter holidays, he couldn't count on his parents to visit him consistently. It was always a fool's gamble. There was always a business trip to take them away from him during new year's. Cold, taking everything away from him. Dead plants wilting on the grow bed, broken plans unraveling in loose threads, ruined hopes stuck in his throat, his bitter tears trailing down his cheeks, people whose love he craved, gone. All consumed by the uncaring wastes of snow and Christmas leftovers. That's how every January started for him as a kid. In tears.
As Yu began to become taller, his cheeks losing their juvenile softness, he cried less and less.
He doesn't cry at all these days. Now he is tall, capable, strong, steel presence with sharpen eyes, perfectly capable of bearing the weight of dozens of separate worlds on his shoulders. That's what they were, weren't they? The arcana. Each and every one of them - a world that he gets to see and help carry. His tears won't help anyone.
Just yesterday he took a peek into each of those worlds, and everything seemed to be in order. He tries to ignore that gnawing sensation in his stomach that surfaces when he thinks about the worlds he couldn't check in on. As he does with everything else that doesn't fit every given situation he is in. It's not that he’s ignoring the truth, necessarily.
He knew he felt weary. Spent. Worn thin, tight like an old soap bubble about to burst. So much pain and exhaustion he’s put his body through, throwing himself at the challenges of the other world until they crumbled under the torrential pressure of his tenacity, and he put his mind through ten times more. Betrayal, yearning, heartbreak, more yearning, more desperation. Unholy volumes of love and hope threshing at the walls of his heart, threatening to rupture it from the inside. Sometimes he entertains the thought of ‘what if it would help him?’ What if Adachi could've been saved earlier had Yu taken a sword to his own heart and jammed it right in the middle, and let it spill, spill, spill every little thing Yu felt for him? Not what he’s ended up doing in the end. Controlled bloodletting, small portions of the whole which Yu considered to be too big for Adachi to swallow.
So yes, Yu is very much aware of all of his feelings, but it just was never the right moment to bring any of them up. He could always deal with them later. He hoped the "later" would never come.
Today, Teddie and Yosuke came to visit the Dojima residence, hollow, save for Yu's presence here, and Yu doesn’t know for sure, but he got that overwhelming feeling that Teddie has noticed it too. The hollowness. It came as no surprise when he offered to stay for a while, coming on way too strong when he really didn't need to. Yu almost blurted out that if he wanted to, he could stay forever. Why would he offer something like this? It wasn’t even his house, and it wasn’t like Dojima and Nanako would be away forever.
Forever. I want you to stay with me forever.
It was nice to see Yosuke as well. To feel his thin yet sturdy arm around his own shoulders, a comforting presence, hear him poke fun at Teddie, warning Yu about how much of a handful this shadow with ego could be. Yu secretly thought that Yosuke should probably appreciate Teddie more, but he didn't say any of that. He just enjoyed the simple comfort of his best friend's visit while it lasted.
He thinks about going out in the evening, as he always does, to see if Adachi is hanging around the shopping district, but… No. Besides, he’s felt under the weather the whole day, the chill setting in his bones and his throat clenching around some phantom blob of sandpaper and barbed wire he couldn’t get down no matter what, the exhaustion in his shoulders turning into a dull ache.
Perhaps this evening would be better spent in bed, under a thousand blankets with the heater on, which won’t solve his problem, but certainly won’t make it worse.
Sluggishly, he drags his shoes off his feet without even leaning down and smiles at Teddie's vague silhouette situated at the foot of the TV. He thinks Teddie smiles back? How sweet. Maybe it won't be so cold in this house after all?
Yu's steps are quiet. He feels as if he's walking through molten amber as he approaches the stairs. He makes the first step upwards.
Then the "later" he so wanted to avoid comes with a vengeance. He all but hears his body and soul scream at him. No more, no more!
The world is pulled out from under him, swirling into a vortex of dull color and vertigo. His body gives out, a marionette with cut strings, unsteady and of no use to anyone but children. But there are no children to be found.
Like a curtain ripped from the pole, he sags down in a heap of limbs, knocked out breath and inconvenient feelings. Bright as a sun pain pierces through his forehead. The last carts of his wrecked train of consciousness, stragglers, pick up a faint sound of someone's high-pitched screaming. Teddie? And that's the last thing he feels.
—
Red and black skies of Magatsu Inaba. Yu came to know them well, even in the short time he spent in them. It felt like an eternity when he was in there. A warped, ruined visage of their- his- Dojima's home was a stage for their one on one confrontation, when his friends stalled the onslaught of shadows and he pushed onward, to find Adachi. It only happened once, but in his mind, Yu mostly existed in this single moment in time. Again and again and again. Some things changed but the outcome was always the same. Memory came and went but the pain of separation stayed.
Ah, he’s spacing out again. The time for talking is up, but he doesn't even say anything. Clearly Adachi’s had enough of his silence as well, as he crushes the red presona card in his grip, with strength capable of producing not mere shards, but thin powder.
Magatsu-Izanagi is staring him down with these unblinking yellow eyes, much like his owner's. They are both silent, static, not making any other move. He is the challenger in this pocket world of Adachi's, the first strike is on him. That's how it goes. He reaches after Izanagi's card, always at the top of the deck. It crumbles easily in his fingers like a cookie, and his persona towers before him, naginata in hand.
Time to dance. Maybe this time will be different. He can have them strike through each other and make them both see a torrent of memories-
Magatsu-Izanagi parries the blow. Something about the way it happens feels wrong. It's not how it's supposed to go. Yu and Tohru stand in silence, as they watch their personas duke it out. Well, duke it out perhaps is a bit too strong of an expression. Izanagi is relentless, crazed and desperate in his attacks, chasing after Magatsu-Izanagi, swinging wildly with his weapon, not even casting any spells or physical attacks, just raw despair at the tip of a spear, walls crumbling under it. But Magatsu-Izanagi only dodges, parries and avoids Izanagi's wild frenzy. Izanagi rushes somewhere only to have Magatsu-Izanagi nimbly jump out of the way, the blunt end of the naginata striking empty space. It’s as if the red-clad persona has no will to fight, no intention to hurt. The house is in even worse shape now, Yu can see the black and red skies clear above his head, because the house doesn't have a roof anymore. Pieces of debris fall down and melt into goo around them. Taken apart into raw thoughts.
Magatsu-Izanagi is now cornered, balancing at the top of one of the ruined walls, the brackish waters of this place bubbling just beneath. Pointing his weapon in front of him, his back arched like an angry cat, as if warning Izanagi to stay away. He should know by now.
It's not going to work.
Izanagi, in a feat of agility unusual even for personas, makes a rash lunge forward with his spear, impaling himself on Magatsu-Izanagi's naginata, and thrusting his own forward at the same time, burying it square above the stomach and below the chest, where a human would have a solar plexus, a bundle of raw nerves.
Yu feels it in his gut too, he imagines this is what it would feel like to get shot - a sudden, overwhelming stabbing sensation, it makes his innards twinge in agony, but in his heart, there's an elated feeling, which flows down his spine and pools heavy and thick at the bottom of his stomach and he can't help but close his eyes, sigh, and groan quietly under his breath.
The ground shifts uncomfortably under him as if he's about to lose balance and he opens his eyes, his hands finding purchase on a spear protruding from his stomach. His gloved hands, with dull claws of steel, polished to a mirror sheen. The claws of red, blood stained rusted metal cover his, gripping into the spears connecting them too. He feels Magatsu-Izanagi's hands tremble a little on his own, and he raises his eyes, to meet a yellow unblinking gaze. Can he feel it too? Does he feel an equal amount of agony and pleasure from this as he does?
He can feel them both gasping for breath, as a warm liquid oozes out of their stab wounds. Magatsu-Izanagi's eyes would be half-lidded now if he could blink, as he can feel their knees buckle and get weaker, threatening to tear them away and apart from each other. He can't have that.
He summons the remains of his strength, grabs Magatsu-Izanagi by his shoulders, and pulls him in, plunging the spears in their bodies even deeper, cradling the red-clad shoulders in his embrace as they tip over the edge and now both careen down into the cold black waters of Magatsu Inaba. He caresses Magatsu-Izanagi on his back non-stop, running steel claws softly along the spine, intertwining their legs, and pressing himself flush against him, as close as he can, attempting to protect that ember of warmth between them from frigid waters. They both keep on sinking down to the bottom of the abyss, weighed by their armor, weapons and the weight of their depravity, which leaves a murky white trail in the water, seeping out of their wounds as they keep going down and down. Skewered together, never to be separated again.
He then realizes he hasn't taken a breath in quite a long time, and lets his lungs get flooded with water, and what he's quite sure is love.
The skies don't look that weird from here at all.
The water in his lungs is boiling, the love reaching its critical point and turning into superheated bubbles, and he finally passes out.
When Yu comes to, it's dark all around him, save for a dim night light they had around when someone stayed the night on the first floor. Is he… home? His body is heavy with exhaustion, lax under a thick blanket. He closes his eyes for just a moment. And then opens them again. No way to tell how much time passed between him opening and closing his eyes.
He casts a gaze upwards. He can see the stars. And then he feels a slight chill, a weak wind running over his face. He shivers and feels his movements restricted somewhat, by narrow arms cradling him from the back. Weak warm breath hitting the bottom of his neck. The achingly familiar sensation of a lithe frame pressed against his back. He can't see Adachi, but he knows he is here. Or is he?
Too good to be true. Yu will turn around and he will disappear, turn into smoke, blown away by this weak wind. No one ever stays, let alone returns. Why would he of all people return to him?
Yu runs his fingers above his solar plexus. Completely fine, no gaping spear wound to be found. But the dull pain of separation remains. It is all just too much. He is too old to cry. But it is all just too much. Gray, foggy pain in his limbs, and the rain clouds of despair and sadness in his lungs. He is too old to cry but the thunder of a dry sob echoes around the room, making the presence behind him stir.
-Hmm?
The voice is unmistakably his. But it's not him, can't be him. A cruel apparition that will unravel into threads as soon as Yu will cast an inquisitive look at it. After all, the real Adachi was like this too. A Schrodinger's cat. He wasn't a criminal who would be taken away from him until Yu really looked. Until he opened the box, and taken out his limp body, pressed it against himself and carried it out of the TV world. He should not have underestimated the role of the observer. A curious cat and a dead cat in a box. They were more alike than one would think.
Deep down, though Yu knew he would never be able to look away from the truth, no matter how painful. Maybe he just hates himself.
Fake Adachi behind him wraps his arms around him tight just for a moment and then untangles one of the hands. It snakes up Yu's neck and digs into his hair, nails faintly scratching on his scalp, gently playing with strands, tucking them behind the ear before moving on upward his nape. The touch feels electric, causing Yu to get goosebumps all over his back. Just for a moment, Yu wonders if Magatsu-Izanagi's electric abilities are somehow reflected in his owner.
The whole palm is now languidly stroking the top of his head as if he really was a cat. Nimble fingers rub small circles into the skin, making a mess of a probably already messy bowl cut and pressing the mess down a second later. Yu doesn't find it in himself to object. Although now he knows that this Adachi is a fake.
Just as the thought flies by in his mind, Yu can feel thin lips and the tip of a nose connect to the back of his head. See? Real Adachi never did that. Even when they were physically intimate a few times. He could be somewhat sweet when he really wanted to, but never this sweet. This is indeed just a cruel apparition, a figment of his inflamed imagination infected with wishful thinking. Yu can stop it any time he wants to. If he looks at Adachi he will disappear. But…
He can't deny he really does wish for this. He doesn't want this sweet Adachi who will hug and kiss him and play with his hair to disappear. He wants him to stay forever. No harm in playing a little pretend? So he will just have to lie very, very still.
Willingly paralyzed, he can feel more soft touches of the lips on his hair. And a deep inhale.
-Mmm. I always wanted to do that…
He sounds weary and soft, lacking his usual edge, languid. Yu's eyes are shut in a warm, guilty pleasure, but nothing's gonna happen if he opens his mouth, will it?
-Why didn't you?
His quiet voice, so quiet it's close to a whisper, raspy with sickness, rings in the silence loud as a gunshot. The fingers tangled in his hair freeze still.
-Huh, you're awake? Uh, well, I guess I didn't want to weird you out…
Adachi is only slightly surprised to hear him talk, twitching a bit at Yu's voice, but relaxing back pretty quick. Weird him out? Bit late for that. And it's not like Yu, of all people, is an easy person to weird out. Adachi probably didn't want to weird himself out, but then again, this is just a doppelganger.
-I wouldn't mind.
An understatement of the century. But Adachi probably shouldn't know how much exactly he wouldn't mind. Now that would be weird.
-Of course you'd say that…
He huffs like an annoyed cat, burrowing his face between Yu's shoulder blades, and if Yu didn't know better he'd say the doppelganger is bashful. As much as Yu finds this endearing, once he begins to make a point he won't let go until he is understood.
-No, really. I wouldn't mind. At all.
He hears Adachi swallow behind him, and his breath hitches. The arm around Yu's body gets a bit tighter. Tohru is pressed against him, a blazing furnace. He wouldn't mind getting crushed in his embrace. Maybe he will get to. The night is still young… probably. He can't really tell.
-You're just all perfect for me, huh? Well, don't mind if I do.
Tohru's voice is shaky and also somehow both amused and wistful. The hand on top of Yu's head resumes its ministrations, picking through strands of hair laid in chaos by his previous touches, cupping the jaw to trace under it with quick little movements, rubbing around the shell of his ear with his thumb. Tohru scoots up and rests his chin on Yu's shoulder, his trembling breath reaching Yu's other ear perfectly clear.
The arm previously wrapped tight around his midsection relaxes, and before a tiny jolt of panic in Yu's weakened heart can spread anywhere else in his body, a palm lays flat above it. Tohru could now feel all the embarrassing little movements his heart makes. And Yu would let him. He doubts the doppelganger and real Adachi are on speaking terms. The palm above his heart is drawing circles around it as if trying to trap it. Needlessly, for Yu would just hand it to Tohru if he asked. It is weak and no good at all, but he hopes it would make a good gift anyway.
He sighs contentedly, relaxing completely in Tohru's embrace. His heart is weak and hurt, but even a fake memory of love and comfort is a balm on it, a reprieve from existing in a place in which he couldn’t do much but ruminate over what he could have done differently.
There's a feeling of something soft, wet and velvety under his ear. Tohru is tonguing under it, and kissing a trail down to his clavicle over the wet spot. Yu's eyes fly wide open. He sees nothing but darkness and a cute girly night light on the table.
-You wouldn't mind this too, would you?
Yu giggles at the question. How quaint. They kissed and touched each other before, although maybe not as gently as this.
-No, I wouldn't. We did this already, remember?
The hand over his heart moves to caress Yu's ribs and waist, making him squirm in his skin, in a good way.
-...Yeah. But I -He stutters, unsure of what he wants to say. Yu loves it when he does this. -I never asked if you were, uh, if you wouldn't mind, huh?
Didn't he? Yu can't remember right now. Although he does distinctly remember himself making sure to make his enthusiasm known and obvious, when push came to shove. So he does his best to ease Tohru's worries. Or his very convincing double's cooked up by his lonely mind, anyway.
-I'm stronger, and also a better fighter than you. I would be fine if I didn't want this.
He can feel the chest pressed against his back shake in full-body laughter.
-Ouch, way to hurt my feelings, kid! Not what I was talking about though. Oh well, no use talking about it now, is there?
Yu's wistful sigh leaves his lips, letting escape a small portion of ennui-infused air he held captive in his lungs. He couldn't really convince Tohru that he was fine with pretty much anything in the real world either, but at least this one is willing to give him what he wants.
A hand settles on top of his stomach, thumb rubbing into it in repetitive motions, fingers spread wide, akin to the paw of a protective animal, trying to shield the warm, soft and defenseless spot from birds of prey and land-bound predators alike. But he can't protect him from leviathans in the sea of souls. The touch is possessive, greedy even, but tender all the same. The pulse of a large artery in his stomach echoes from Tohru's hand and comes back to him. Speaking the truth of how hot and bothered he is, although at that point, really, it should have been nobody's surprise.
This all has been oddly chaste, for what Yu assumes is a wet dream. Then again, he is a man of highly specific tastes, which includes stuff like this being situated on the same shelf as being railed into the kitchen counter. Or railing someone. Never mind though, he can always think about it later. He should be thankful he’s not stuck in the Velvet Room for the night.
Yu’s limbs feel like they are made of raw exhaustion, pins and needles and bad cotton, but he wills one of his hands to find Tohru’s and cover it. His is a little bit bigger, despite Adachi being older, which Yu always found very cute. A short surprised sound escapes Tohru’s lips, right above Yu's ear, but he quickly recovers and bends his fingers slightly up and then down, lacing his fingers through Yu’s, capturing them like a venus flytrap. His hand is warm and dry, as opposed to Yu's clammy, cold and covered in a sticky illness-sweat.
Yu is like a dart frog, cold even under a thick blanket, wet, covered in a thin layer of poison. Only the fake Tohru in his mind won't recoil from him like this.
While Yu is busy being sorry for himself, Adachi's other hand leaves his now tousled hair alone, along with warmed up by constant rubbing and stroking skin of his face; and is now all over Yu's shoulders and upper back. His fingers are feather-light, almost reverent one moment and forceful the next, pressing into his skin and tracing the outline of his back muscles.
-You are so huge, so… broad-shouldered… Unfair.
His speech is quiet and slurred and in that low tone of voice Yu’s never heard him use before. It is low and quiet like his taunts and threats but devoid of their malice, a bit whiny and lighthearted like the idiot facade he put on, but it clearly isn't a lie or pretense. Yu wishes he could hear something like this from Tohru all the time. He lies there silent and unmoving, afraid to dispel the apparition.
-Mmm… and how you stare at me with those huge blue eyes like a lunatic all the time, thought it was pity, but you would never pity me, would you?
He gets so quiet Yu has trouble hearing what Tohru is saying, muffling the words in between his shoulder blades, but he can catch enough to understand. Tohru is stroking his back non-stop as if he can't get enough. His breath is heavy, scalding on his back, but as far as he can tell, Adachi isn't hard. Maybe his subconscious is in cahoots with his spent body and has decided to spare him a laborious wet dream.
-No. Never.
And it's true, he wouldn't. Him and Adachi are equals, of all the things Yu's heart can offer to him pity isn't one of them.
Something suspiciously similar to a sob mixed with a happy sigh gets stuck in Adachi's throat, and Yu can feel the warm and dry hand crawl under his shirt, making its way over the heart, press against it, heartbeat echoing back from spread out fingertips, feeling of skin on skin. Next his neck is peppered with small butterfly kisses, and a hot desert wind of whispers hits his ear.
Tohru whispers about a lot of things. About how ever since they met, Yu has been driving him crazy, absolutely raving mad, and he couldn't show it, how it was akin to being injected uppers and downers at the same time, his heart was hot and cold, and each little gesture of Yu's affection felt like agony, like being shot (and Tohru has been shot before ) but he thirsted for more like a god-damned addict, how the scum of the earth like him shouldn't even entertain the idea to accept any of those, how he had to punish himself for every little crumb that he did accept, unable to resist the temptation, about how this demonic thing inside him torn his heart to shreds with intrusive thoughts on daily basis, because not a day went by without him somehow meeting Yu which made the thing go livid for some reason, how he regrets he couldn’t eat much of Yu’s no doubt delicious meals because how good the idea of Yu cooking for him made him feel, but when he even approached the fridge with those lunchboxes he felt nauseous, disgusted with himself, but not as disgusted when he was limp and weak in Yu’s arms, having the demon beaten out of him, and with no more intrusive thoughts how clear in his mind was the desire for Yu to keep him in his arms forever and to never let him go.
He is breathing molten gold straight into his ear. Saying exactly what Yu wants to hear. He doubts even half of this applies to real Tohru, but just indulging in the thought of him needing Yu as much as Yu needs him feels sizzlingly hot in his chest. The doppelganger keeps murmuring in his ear and holding him tight, as Yu sets his sight on what he thinks is the horizon, and then it dawns on him.
It becomes lighter all around them. Stars become less prominent in the background of brightening lavender skies, and Yu can see that they are lying in the Dojima residence living room, with walls ruined by a naginata swung by Izanagi in his frenzy. But it isn’t Magatsu Inaba. Magatsu Inaba felt like a raw open wound, bleeding and seeping pus, and whatever this place is, feels quiet and peaceful, and somewhat painful, like a hospital at six in the morning, a wound that has been tended to and stitched. A dawn is brewing.
And Tohru keeps talking and talking. Yu feels himself slipping, as if he is falling asleep, but that makes no sense, he is already asleep. Yu grips Tohru’s hand under his shirt tight, struggling to remain here, in this dream, as the smallest luminous edge of sun peeks over the horizon, and darkness floods his vision.
-Don’t… leave… please…
—
-Huh? Nobody’s leaving, partner.
A familiar voice, but not the one he has been listening to all night. It sounds concerned, but affectionate. Is that…?
-Yo…suke?
Oh god, he sounds pathetic, high-pitched and squeaky, like he’s about to cry. And as his crusted dry eyes open, and he becomes somewhat aware of his body once more, he just thinks he might. He seriously wishes he didn’t have a body at all at this moment. Everything hurts. His vision swims. He struggles to turn his head to locate his friend, but his neck is so stiff he can’t, so he lets out a pained whine. Three people then move into his field of vision. Concerned-looking Yosuke, Teddie at the end of his rope and Kanji, mildly on edge. His frayed heart lurches and aches with guilt, they were all worried about him. He was supposed to be better than this, he was supposed to be leading them and not indulging in his grief and sickness induced hallucinations. He sobs, inhales sharply through his mouth. Small streaks of liquid run down his cheeks.
-I… I’m sorry…
Yosuke and Teddie look at each other, spooked, but Kanji kneels before his bedside and fixes a cold rag Yu realizes was on his forehead the whole time.
-Nothing to be sorry about, senpai. Everyone gets sick, and you have been through the wringer this last year. Let us take care of you now, okay?
Yu wants to object, but he doesn’t think he has energy to say much except single words. Resigned, he closes his eyes and nods, as much as his neck will allow.
He opens his eyes when someone’s hand gently rubs on his shoulder. Yosuke is crouching above him with a lightly steaming mug of something. Yu can't tell what it is, since his sense of smell has been claimed by the sickness for now.
-Hey, partner. You need to eat something. Me and Teddie got you miso soup, since you are probably too drained for anything else. Think you can do it?
Yu didn’t think he was hungry before, but a mere mention of any sort of sustenance makes him realize that his stomach is gnawing with hunger.
-Mhhm. Thanks.
With Yu’s permission Kanji lifts him into a half-sitting position, and Yosuke raises the mug up to his lips. Yu takes a sip, and then grabs the mug himself, with Yosuke propping it up, just in case. It is delicious and savory, probably because it's the first thing Yu has eaten in the last forty eight hours, give or take. Before he can finish it off, Yosuke takes away the mug for a second, and before Yu can even process why his friend would be so cruel, he feels a few round somethings placed in his palm.
-Yeah we got you some meds too. Take them with the rest of the soup.
Indeed, two round pills lie in his hand. His dark sense of humor, which peeks out of his mind when he is particularly hurt, says that since Yu is not in any position to argue, it could very well be poison. But his friends wouldn’t poison him. And besides, he’d probably take it even if it was poison, since his friends gave it to him. He tosses the pills into his mouth, and downs the rest of the miso soup with Yosuke’s help. Kanji, who Yu realizes has been propping him up this entire time, slowly lowers him back down on the cushions.
He wants to say something but only a wheeze comes out. Yosuke leans down closer, tilting his head.
-What was that?
He tries again.
-Sorry… Not the best conversation…
He feels a hand ruffle his hair. He likes it, but can’t ask to do that again. And besides, he probably shouldn’t. His friends aren't Tohru, he can't just bizarrely ask them for physical affection out of the blue and pretend like it’s normal.
-C’mon partner, we can talk lots once you get better. You should go back to sleep.
Someone, whether it is Yosuke, Kanji, or even Teddie, covers him up to the chin with a blanket, tucks him in and replaces the wet rag on his forehead. A pleasant chill spreads through his face, while the rest of his body is nice and warm.
Well. If it really is okay. He closes his eyes and sighs. He trusts his friends. As much as he is embarrassed of being weak in front of them, having them stay there with him makes him happy. He shoves the intrusive thoughts about the transience of it all in the furthest corner of his mind. Maybe if he falls asleep again he will see Tohru once more.
Yu can hear the voices of his friends, talking about something he can't quite make out. It's as if he is listening through a six-meter layer of cotton insulation.
—
He jumps in his seat, his head jerking into an upright position. The smell of creosote, machine oil and cheap disinfectant hangs in the air. Has he fallen asleep at the train station? Looking around he can definitely tell it's the Inaba train station, but he isn't where any passenger was supposed to be.
Yu looks around the tiny room he's in, notes a mic set-up and a large reinforced glass window. Must be an announcer or service room. The large window looks out to the station itself, the place where people board and depart. Or arrive. But this train is departing, gathering a bit of a small crowd and-
Him. It is him standing there, with a luggage bag over his shoulder, with his friends and family, except Tohru, all present, gathered in a semicircle around him. The train is waiting.
Yu presses into the cold glass in a rush of desperation. No, surely it can't be happening so soon? He can't leave them, he just can't! He tries to yell, but his voice won't work, nothing but a wane whisper leaves his lips. Yu helplessly watches himself walk into the carriage, and he then notices a tall figure at the driver's cabin.
It is him, too. Yu watches with horror as another him turns the key in the control panel, and bile rises to his throat. He leans into the glass harder and starts pounding on it with his fists, knuckles hurting more with each strike, as he fruitlessly tries to break through reinforced glass. After a few strikes blood starts leaking down, pooling at the window frame. It’s no use.
Dejected, he watches the train start, the wheels coming to life as part of his soul dies, wanting to phase through the window, jump into the driver cabin and murder himself dead for doing this. To himself, to his friends who he was abandoning. Suddenly, the suppressed pain in the knuckles he’s beaten into a bloody mess reaches his brain tenfold.
He topples, drops down to his knees. He can't tell if he's crying or not.
-I don't want to leave… I don't want to be alone again…
The pain and the excruciating sense of loss knock him out cold into a dreamless void, as he is muttering to himself, begging himself to find a way to stay.
He can't tell how long he spent like this. But at some point he can feel the feather-light breeze on his eyelids and a familiar tempo of warm breath on his neck. Lean arms wrapped around his midsection. He's back at their home, at Not Magatsu Inaba. And this version of it is truly theirs now, they’ve claimed the ruins and made them their own, customized and fit it to themselves, traces of heated battle adorn the walls like family keepsakes, the nightlight of Nanako's that to be honest, only Tohru used when he stayed over, shines dim light over them. The stars aren't bright, not already, but yet. Rose-golden skies darkened by the minute in the sunset.
Tohru stirs, as if waking up from a nap, and sighs in Yu's neck.
-Oh, it's you again… -He pauses, rubbing his forehead on Yu's back in a sleepy haze. Hums, as if trying to remember something. -By the way, I wasn't leaving, you're the one who left me here. Boo.
Oh, right. What he said when reality pulled him away from here. Well it makes sense right? That figments of his mind stay inside it when he leaves to be with his actual flesh and blood friends. And… their afterimages in his nightmares. Right, he just had one of those, but only seems to realize it now. Odd.
-Sorry. Can't be here all the time.
'As much as I want to', he almost says, but that would be pathetic to admit even to his own imagination. Fake Tohru only giggles and starts lazily kissing his neck, as if they both are long since married and just came back home from work.
-Where have you been, anyway?
If he closes his eyes and pretends just hard enough he might just trick himself into believing there’s a ring on his finger. But his eyes stay open.
-Don't you know?
He's his own mind's projection, he must know. And Yu would rather not spell it out himself.
-Right. With your friends, yeah? Much better company than me, I'm telling ya!
Even in his mind, Tohru is… a challenge. But without it, he wouldn't be Tohru, even a facsimile of one. Yu grabs one of the hands caressing his chest and grips it tight.
-Don't compare yourself to them. You are… dear to me in a different way.
Even now he can't spit it out. Even in the waking world, when they were pressed skin to skin, teeth gnashed and pulse quickened, he bit on his tongue to avoid letting it slip. He knew by then Tohru would run even at the slightest notion of deep and raw emotion. It was easier to get what he wanted, or a convincing enough substitute of it by playing it off as lust.
-Right. Ugh. That's why I'm no good at that sappy talking shit. Even here it makes no sense.
Tohru somehow entangles himself into him even further, for a second he grabs him tight enough to knock the breath out of him, and from deep in his lungs sounds a quiet frustrated groan. Yu begs his body to take a massive chill pill, because banging his very sweet and easy cognitive projection of Tohru in his dreams while his friends are probably out there watching over him isn't the best idea. Who knows what sounds he would be making in the real world.
Tohru's voice sounds right at Yu's ear again, quiet and slurred.
-God, I'm such a messed up trash for this… Do you even know how difficult it was? Watching you and your cute little friends together, all happy and buddy buddy with each other, eating trashy food at this stupid food court. Ugh, made me sick. Running around, playing cops and robbers with your little gang. Infuriating…
His words bite on the surface, but his intonation betrays the fact that his heart isn't in it. Even when Yu came to meet him in the TV world by his lonesome it didn't feel like there was much genuine hate behind his taunts. Just hurt and a sore heart.
-And you are oh so diligent with them too, right? Running around town, doing your little errands for them, catering to their every whim? Yeah I know your game, you people pleaser, been playing that one for good twenty years…
Tohru's hands slide down his sides and grab onto his waist, fingers possessively digging into his belly and thumbs into his back, like a hawk holding onto a caught prey.
-I want you paying your undivided attention only to me , you know?-Tohru speaks, whiny but sultry, before his tone softens quite a bit -But it's not like I could actually say yes even if you tried. Tearing you away from your little friends would make you sad, and nobody wants that… Couldn't have you any other way, I guess…
Ah, so that's what it is. A jealousy fantasy? All neatly wrapped with Tohru being considerate enough to realize it's not very productive too. Yu shudders at the thought of Tohru wanting him all for himself, even if it is a wish that's impossible to satisfy even if by some luck real Adachi shares it. Well that's fine. He wants Tohru all for himself too. And can't have him this way either. Doesn't mean he can't dream of it.
-Jealous, Adachi-san?
Adachi stills, his response is a barely audible whisper.
-I… I could never keep you from others. Ever. But I want your eyes only on me…
Yu purges all air from his lungs in a moment and pulls the lean palm he's been squeezing in his own to his lips and lightly presses them against each knuckle in small kisses. Yu hears Tohru hum and resume what he was doing with his neck, this time licking, and pressing barely noticeable bites, completely painless and light, as if he’s just caressing the skin with the tips of his teeth. Yu shudders and finds Tohru's shin with his toes, desperate for more contact than he already had with Tohru pressed firmly into his back.
Adachi stops covering Yu with kisses for a moment and huffs, grabbing Yu's shoulder as if to steady himself.
-Hey, how come you're always facing away from me here? -He's whiny and loud one moment and quiet and intimate the next -I want to see your face, cmon! Turn around…
He tugs on Yu's shoulder a bit. Yu meanwhile is completely frozen. Surely the doppelganger must know?
-I can't, Adachi-san.
Adachi will scatter into dust on this chilly breeze should Yu look at him. He knows that is what will happen. His mind can conjure up an illusion only so real, it will not stand up to Yu’s unyielding scrutiny. His own curiosity and drive to know the truth is what destroyed the glass castle of what they had before… Well. Before.
-Huh? Why not?
The question doesn't sound entitled, but soft and confused. Yu wouldn't put it past his imagination to torture him like this. And he wants an actual answer, too. Yu will just have to say it. Say that should he look at Adachi, his gaze will punch holes in his heart and grind him into thin powder.
-If I look at you, you will disappear…
There. He says what they both know, can they go back to something more pleasant? This illusion of Adachi is so sweet, and he has been force-fed so much bitter medicine by life lately it made him gag, he would do anything to get the taste off his tongue.
-Really? Well, I guess you've always been a weirdo… Hm.
What was that supposed to mean? Adachi goes silent for a second, only rubbing his thumb on Yu's palm, in small and soothing semicircle motions. Thinking about something? Yu can feel it with him reach some sort of conclusion when the motion stops.
-Oh, I know! Just close your eyes.
What?
-Just close my eyes.
As if it could be that easy. As if anything with them could be easy.
-Yeah. You won't see me with your eyes closed. And I wanna see you .
Hard to argue with that logic, but… Dreams aren’t always logical. It is a risk even if they do find a loophole.
-Are you… sure?
He must ask. Surely the doppelganger would know? If it is safe for him? Does the creation of his mind want to die?
-That I want to see you? Positive.
Yu's throat tightens and an inhale gets stuck in it at how effortlessly this Adachi said these things. His heart is full to bursting. He forces air down his lungs like a piece of an apple, bitten larger than he could chew, and nods. He desperately wants more. Of whatever this sweet illusion of Adachi can offer.
-Okay.
Yu squeezes his eyes shut, putting his palms over them for good measure, plunging the world around him into a safety blanket of darkness, and tries to roll over. Which is giving him some difficulty with both his arms occupied. He hears Tohru giggle at his expense and then feels the tight and steady grip on his shoulders, helping him out. His inner ear doing somersaults, for a second he can’t tell up from down, which ends abruptly with his nose poking into Adachi’s chest, and two arms sliding on his back and bringing him closer.
Solid. Not a pile of shiny jet black powder shadows left when reduced into non-existence.
-There we go, that wasn’t so hard, was it?
It was. But now that he is facing Tohru like this he doesn’t care to argue. He hears Tohru chuckle again, and then warm hands softly cover his own, wrap around them, and delicately pull them away from his face, making his heart jolt with panic in a split second, while Adachi, as mind bogglingly strong as Yu remembers him to be, hoists him up just a tad.
-Come on, your eyelids should be more than enough. Besides, I can't see your face like this.
Tohru is still feeling as solid against his frame as he was a second ago. Maybe it really is okay. Soft exhales on his skin get warmer, he can feel Adachi leaning closer. And Yu can’t see a thing.
Yet another new temptation into the humongous pile of them Yu already has stashed at the back of his mind, like an embarrassingly large amount of skeletons in a closet. Slender fingers frame the side of his face. Maybe some of these temptations he can fulfill here.
Suddenly a soft sensation with traces of humidity touches his eyelid, and then another. Tohru reverently kisses him in each eyelid, a gesture so odd yet so sickeningly romantic Yu entertains the idea that he was simply losing his mind and any semblance of control over his imagination this whole time. And perhaps, he is. And he doesn’t want to stop. At least not yet.
A thumb presses into Yu’s lower lip, tenderly stroking and rubbing on it, the fingernail sweetly biting into the sensitive flesh, making Yu unintentionally open his mouth just a tiny bit. His heart feels unruly in his chest, like a wild beast in a cage, and being pressed flush against Tohru, Yu can feel that his is, too.
-So pretty…
Less than even a whisper, loud in his ears like cannon fire. With his eyes closed, every other sense reporting to his brain was yelling, filling his mind full to capacity with sounds, senses, smells. Steady heat from Tohru’s core, his fingertips coarse yet soft on his face, how his chest rises and falls with each breath in which he can hear tiny slivers of sighs, the faint smell of Tohru’s skin, which you would never be able to get a whiff of unless you were so in his grill you’d be sitting on his lap, known to Yu and only to Yu. No one else. His arms blindly search and then find Tohru’s waist and wrap around it in a firm and tenacious grip of a constrictor python. Who said Tohru would be more possessive between the two of them? He can’t help but let out a choked whimper under onslaught of all the sensations and the raw feeling squirming and coiling in his chest like a wounded and crazed serpentine dragon, clawing at his ribcage from inside. He is all but ready to sob.
Adachi chuckles only slightly.
-What is it? Want me so bad?
The words mock, but the voice is raspy and low, as if Adachi just got punched in the gut. The dam on everything Yu is holding back is about to give.
-Adachi-san… Please…
He knows Tohru had a thing for… begging, but Yu can swear on everything that’s holy he is not playing it up. He really feels like he will melt through his skin if Adachi doesn’t do… something, anything, right this instant.
Yu is driving himself absolutely insane.
Tohru swallows loudly and presses on Yu’s bottom lip further, making him open his mouth even more, and then the electrifying touch of soft flesh to Yu’s lips shocks his mind blank clear, a hurricane swiping away everything on its path.
The initial kiss is chaste, careful, but before Tohru can do anything else, Yu roughly yanks Tohru closer by the fabric of his shirt, last droplets of his patience and reserve boiling out and turning into mist, angling his head and going for broke. Their foreheads bump together and Yu can feel the dry warmth coming off it and the strain of Tohru’s frown.
Tohru does not resist one single bit, going lax and compliant, opening his mouth for Yu immediately, whimpering quietly as Yu bites his lip and kisses softly over it, ramming his tongue inside his mouth with no sense of moderation or restraint, chasing the wet heat, as Yu positively ravages him with abandon. Backing away a tiniest distance for breath, Yu sighs Tohru’s name into his lips and immediately goes back at it, insatiable and greedy, only when it comes to Tohru. And for all of Tohru’s teasing and taunting when Yu finally is at his wit’s end enough to take what he wanted, Adachi simply lets him, lays back and lets himself be devoured.
He missed this.
Tohru whines and whimpers from how forceful it all is, a man drowning in a raging mountain river, but not lifting a single finger to resist, content to sink to the bottom, get his skull dashed into the smooth pebbles lining it. Yu's heart, however, is tattered much too thin to stomach even the tiniest discomfort of Adachi's. Yu forces himself to steady, ease the pressure on his beloved and backs away from the kiss, his lips covered in messy saliva, akin to a vampire after drinking someone dry. He is panting and gasping like a beached fish.
-Sorry… -He hides his face in a crook of Adachi's neck, breathing in his faint scent, swallowing down his gasps -Just missed you so much…
His fingers on Adachi's shirt relax and he palms over the rapidly rising and falling chest. Nice, soothing strokes. A gust of a happy exhale rustling Yu's hair.
-It's nothing…
Adachi's voice is somehow quieter than his breathing. So bashful. What does he have to be embarrassed about? He's not the one who, in his desperation, threw away all self-control in indulgent abandon.
-No. -He cringes at how jarring it comes out and tries again -Don't… endure discomfort from me, Adachi-san. It's not nothing.
He almost says "You are everything to me", and even in his dream he's scared to actually say it. But he implies it. As hard as he can. But not too hard.
Warm and dry lips plant a cute little kiss on top of Yu's head, and Yu feels a movement, which he guesses is a nod. Good, no unnecessary sacrifices for Yu's benefit, then. Adachi tries his best to envelop him in his whole body which is a tall task for someone that much narrower, but it warms Yu's heart nonetheless as he leans into the touch.
-So good for me… -Tohru sighs into the silver locks, breathless.
-That's right.
Yu hums into Adachi's neck and takes an opportunity to lick and nibble at it, to feel Tohru's full body squirm around him.
His hands slide down to Tohru's sides, the fabric of his shirt rustling quietly. Adachi is as morbidly thin as he remembers, and one of the things Yu regrets about is not being able to take care of him in this regard properly. Well, it's not like he could force feed the man, and given what he gleaned from the fragments of Adachi's memories he saw way back when, Adachi just couldn't eat anything made by someone claiming to care about him. Like the body of a starved man rejecting food after one famine too long, Tohru's mind rejected affection since it couldn't digest most of it nowadays.
He lets his hands wrap around Tohru's lean frame again, and scoots up to find his lips. Adachi kisses him again, this time it goes less desperately, even though Yu can feel how starved for this he is in the way Tohru frames his face, holding it like it’s the most valuable thing in the whole wide world, time and history. He comes up for breath and doesn't miss an opportunity to plant a small kiss to the tip of Yu's nose.
Adachi sighs.
-I think it's sunrise soon… Mind if I just hold you like this until it's time to wake up?
He sounds so vulnerable, like he is asking to do something embarrassing.
Well, this couldn't last forever. But Adachi holding him while he falls asleep, or rather, awake, is a nice thought.
-Of course.
They settle into a comfortable cuddle, Yu's sense of direction going haywire again as Adachi pulls him to lie on top of him. He would be afraid of crushing his sweet dream apparition under his weight, but Tohru holds up reasonably well, and seems to be even enjoying being pressed into a pancake.
Yu lets his head fall on top of Tohru's chest, listening to his heartbeat, the waterfall hum of blood flowing through it, and quiet workings of his lungs. He feels them vibrate when Tohru hums in endearment and puts his palm on Yu's head, playing with stray silver locks. Goosebumps spread all over his back when nails lightly scratch on his scalp.
He wishes he could fall asleep like this every night. Getting lulled and soothed by these nimble hands, listening to the heart, so dear to his own, beating.
—
Winter sunlight is falling on his eyes, unceremoniously piercing through his eyelids. He can't hear much of anything, except someone's breathing a little bit away from him. Not only is the distance wrong, but also the cadence and rhythm. This isn't Tohru.
His eyes are yet again crusted from however long he was out unconscious and or sleeping open. He’s still in his living room, lying on the futon rolled out on the floor. He feels… better? Still very bad and just as covered in the sweat of sickness, but not as world-endingly awful and sad as before. His neck isn't feeling as stiff, so he turns towards the source of the sound, and finds Chie, sitting cross legged and engrossed in a book of some description. Yu can only tell it isn't manga. He just looks at her relaxed posture and focused features for a while.
She moves to turn the page, and her gaze meets Yu's own. They stare at each other for a second, before she drops the book and scoots closer.
-Heyy! You're awake! How are you feeling? -She asks him and then leans back, seemingly trying to address someone else -Heeey everyone Yu woken up!
Yu winces at her loud voice, and she immediately gives him an apologetic look.
-Sorry, sorry. Yukiko and Naoto are resting in the back, we were taking shifts watching you, just in case.
Just in case? Just in case of what? Also, Yukiko and Naoto are here, but last time he was awake…
-Where's Yosuke and Kanji? Teddie?
His voice is raspy from sickness and disuse but now it doesn't feel so much as throwing up nails. Chie looks at Yukiko and Naoto entering the room, Naoto carrying a small bag with her.
-Uh, well you were out for quite a bit -Chie says -so we send them to rest at home. You were uh…
Naoto heads into the kitchen, while Yukiko sits down next to Chie and casts a worry-filled gaze at Yu. She puts a palm on his forehead, pushing under the bangs, before interjecting.
-You had a high fever and were groaning in pain. We almost thought to call the hospital to take you, but Yosuke-kun thought you wouldn't want that, all with Nanako-chan and Dojima-san being here, so he called us, me and Chie-chan. We brought Naoto-kun with us, and she injected you with some strong fever medicine so you wouldn't… You know. Die from fever.
Wow. Wait, inject? He angles his head to look at his arms, and sure enough, there is a small cotton ball taped to the bend of his left elbow.
-Was it that bad.
Naoto answers from the kitchen.
-It was, you had temperature spiking up to 41 degree Celsius, which is very not good. I happen to know how to do injections, and there was no way we could make you take anything orally in the state you were in. And we needed to knock down the fever. How are you feeling? Are you hungry?
Yu sighs and decides he might as well be honest with his friends who have kept vigil over his broken body and actually saved his life last night.
-I'm feeling… not great, but better than… whenever it was when I woke up last.
There. Honest enough? No reason to describe in excruciating detail what hurt and how much, right? As for food, before he was asked he didn't pay it any mind at all but now that someone has asked him he realizes he is famished.
-And I am hungry, yes. I think I can eat on my own this time.
He isn't sure about that last part, but he will only look past the humiliation of being hand-fed when it comes to two people, one of which apparently went home to rest, and the other one who is in jail. So he will just have to hope he is well enough for eating with his own two hands.
Naoto opens the fridge and takes out something that looks and sounds like a few plastic containers.
-Are you in the mood for something more substantial than miso soup? Yosuke-kun cooked some chicken noodle soup while he was here, saying, and I quote "I can't have you three finish him off for good with your cooking".
Yu giggles at it despite himself. He remembers how this past year Yosuke decided to try home-cooking inspired by Yu's lunches they shared together, and one day brought the fruit of his efforts to school to share with Yu in turn. Breaded pork cutlets with rice, which he remembers to be surprisingly good. Yosuke secretly confessed much later that it took him a few tries but he didn't give up because he wanted to impress Yu. He would probably try to swallow down anything of Yukiko's or Chie's cooking anyway, but he is glad he doesn't have to. Yosuke's chicken noodle soup sounds lovely.
And it is. Naoto comes back from the kitchen with a deep bowl of soup, a spoon and a flat cutting board, which she puts down on Yu's knees, then the bowl and a spoon on top of it. He thanks her with a tired smile. The bowl is probably hot, now that he thinks about it and would be uncomfortable to hold if it wasn’t for Naoto's quick thinking. He takes the spoon in his weakened fingers, and tries some. It was warm, salty, with some surprisingly good smoky flavors in there. If he has to guess it’s smoked chicken and smoked paprika as a spice. Unusual for chicken soup, but perfect. Yosuke isn't afraid to experiment a little but he keeps it reasonably simple. He makes a mental note to compliment Yosuke on his cooking when they meet again.
He decides to get the conversation started, he has missed his friends and he doesn't want to eat in silence.
-So, how have you been? Aside from helping me that is.
Chie talks about picking up some textbooks out of boredom and finding them fun and interesting in a way she didn't before, Yukiko talks about the inn mostly, Naoto about just enjoying life, now that neither investigation nor school took up any of her time. Each morsel of info comes with a spoonful of hot savory liquid, and maybe a chunk of smoked chicken, filling his stomach and heart. He doesn't reply much, content to simply listen to what his friends have been doing in his absence. He asks about the rest, but girls reply that Yu will have to ask them himself once they come back.
He finishes the soup, and carefully lowers the board with the bowl on the floor to the side of him and lies down. There’s a lull in the conversation, Chie eyes her book and suddenly says:
-Hey, want me to read for you? It's a good book so far, although I hope you won't mind me continuing where I left off.
Of course Yu wants her to read for him now that she's offering. He smiles and nods. Chie grabs the book and starts reading, and the cadence of her voice, in conjunction with the sated warmth coming from his stomach he doesn't even notice how he slips into the warm dark embrace of sleep.
—
Yu wakes in his empty room, the light from the window dim and dusty blue and grey, the color of early foggy morning. He stares into the ceiling, illuminated by that wistful light. It’s dim but it’s pervasive - even when Yu closes his eyes, the light does not diminish. His body and soul feel oddly numb. Seeing no point in staying in bed any longer, he tosses his legs over the edge, and slowly as somnambula makes his way downstairs. The house is quiet. Dead. If houses could sing this one would stay silent.
He checks the kitchen, and Nanako’s room. Nobody is in. Both Dojimas are gone. Yu turns to the front door, and next moment he is sliding it to the side. The outside is covered in a thin white mist. Nothing like the fog of the other side, they took care of that one, but it still unnerves him. He walks towards the shopping district. Every house is silent. No soul to be found on the streets. Everywhere he walks he finds no one. No signs of struggle, nothing, as if people just picked up one day and left on their own.
Nerves getting better of him, he starts running, listing in his head the addresses of places where his friends live. Surely, some of them will be at home?
The streets are vast, their geometry confounding. He runs and runs, and his lungs beg him to stop but he won’t, he won't until he finds someone, anyone. But it feels as the more fear and dread seep into his bones, the more this place makes sense. So he lets it. For the sake of everyone he will go insane of his own volition. He lets fear paralyze everything but his legs, lets dread crush his ribcage in its tight grip, his soul stained with uncanny grief. Bathed in his madness, he lets his legs carry him to each destination on the list. Yosuke’s, Chie’s, the Amagi inn, Tatsumi Textiles, Marukyu Tofu shop, Naoto’s apartment. Every item on the list crossed, he finds no one at each place, the drumbeat of madness in his head sounds louder, louder, until he arrives at Junes. He is at the point to be ready to throw up his lungs from physical and emotional exertion.
As he recovers his breath, he hears, no, senses something. A call. Familiar presence he can’t quite distinguish yet, calls to him, feeling like someone was pushing him between the shoulder blades and pulling forward by a string wound tight around his heart. Imperative, demanding, but not aggressive or malevolent. He obeys it without question, and lets it take him to the electronics section.
Right.
Before him, stands the same TV they used all this time to enter the TV world, and beside it… Teddie? But… something is off about him. An empty stare, he looks at Yu as if he’s a particularly offending piece of furniture, and gestures to the TV.
-It’s through here.
Teddie’s eyes shine yellow for a second, before he bursts into a fountain of goo and black shiny ash, as all shadows do when they are… defeated. He tries and fails to calm himself down after witnessing this grotesque display, but steps into the TV anyway, letting the vertigo of the channel take him to the lobby.
But that’s not what happens. He finds himself completely alone, on the floor of Yukiko’s castle. A cocktail of fear, dread, anguish and full-body soreness make him consider just lying on the floor for a bit, but the same presence that led him here barks in his ear.
Move.
He rolls just right under a strike from a particularly nasty shadow, eyeing him as its next lunch. Hands wrapping around a familiar rugged grip of his katana, he slices the shadow in one wide arc slash, and the smaller ones come out, as usual. He called Yoshitsune to deal with it quickly, but he won’t answer. Neither does Kohryu, or anyone else in his deck, besides Izanagi. He deals with the shadow before him, Izanagi being a powerhouse on his own nowadays. He stays summoned, and nods to the stairs at the end of the hallway.
No way but up.
The castle shifts and winds around him, different from how he remembers it, the light seeping through the fragile cracks of memory and filling his mouth with the taste of iron, as he mows through shadows on each floor. No matter how strong he is, it does a number on him. It feels like eternity has passed, but he finally reaches the throne room, kicking down the door, covered in sweat and stray droplets of his own blood and shadow essence.
Two shadows stand there, staring at him silently. Yukiko’s and Chie’s. They say nothing, demand nothing, but just looking at them Yu feels like whatever happened to them, it is Yu’s fault, somehow. They say nothing still, as they transform and wail on him with all their might. Fire and ice ravage him, Izanagi isn’t weak to those, but the temperature whiplash makes him grunt in pain. It’s two against one, and even though now Yu is powerful, he still struggles when, for every move of his, two come to knock him off his feet at the same time. It’s tedious and agonizing, but both shadows fall, reverting back to their quiet yellow-eyed selves. They stand there, still not saying a damned thing, then look at each other, and explode into a firework of black ash and goo. Oh. There are no real Chie or Yukiko to accept them, so there is nowhere they could go.
At the place where two shadows stand in front of a throne, a door to the bathhouse appears.
He gets it now. He has to do it all over again. And really, he deserves it. And even if he didn’t, it’s not like anyone would ask his opinion on the matter anyway. Sword in hand, he enters the door. He knows what he must do.
Each dungeon after the next is a test of his resolve, but even if he could numb himself emotionally, physically he could not. Each bone and muscle of his body are straining under the exertion, begging for respite of any kind, his back hurts, his head is pounding. Facing his friend’s visages, looking at him in judgment, contempt, disgust. Disintegrating into their basic building blocks once Yu is done with slicing at them, which, the further he goes, the more it feels like trying to make a hole in a brick wall with a needle. But he is persistent and it is his duty, and he deserves this punishment for his own sins anyway.
With each dungeon retreaded, each master shadow slain, the cracks in reality grow bigger, the light seeping into it brighter. By the time he reaches heaven, it is the brightest yet, bright as a lightning, as a migraine, as a dying star. Bright as humiliation. He feels exposed and naked and small, like a mosquito stuck in amber lying on desert sand, a butterfly pinned to a board. Unearthing every shame he bears.
Nanako isn’t there. Just Kunino-Sagiri, another enemy for him to triumph over. He doesn’t feel particularly triumphant. His friends aren’t there to turn on him, but he would honestly prefer if they were here, even if brainwashed and attacking him. He knows they didn’t mean it when he fought the Kunino-Sagiri for the first time. Yu didn’t think anyone really meant what they did under the influence of these fog demons.
The demon falls, and Yu expects the door for his last stop, Magatsu Inaba to appear, but… Instead another vaguely familiar door appears. Yu pulls the handle on the plain grey door, and it opens with ease. He steps inside.
It’s… home. Not what he would call home for any emotional reasons, this place was his home on a technicality. It’s the house he grew up in. And it is January. And he is very small. It’s like he doesn’t have control over his body, when he shuffles with his feet moving to the fridge. He opens it, and pulls out the casserole with something he cooked all by himself last night, after waiting and waiting, and waiting for them to come, only to receive an apologetic call and instructions to make himself food and then go to bed. His small hands tremble and drop the casserole dish to the floor, and he doubles over it, drops to his knees mute with grief. His sobs are dry and weak, no tears would come out. He can’t get up, or move. Useless marionette with cut strings, he is trapped in this memory and his child body.
The same presence that was guiding him through the merciless gauntlet chimes in again. Tugging on the string around his heart, again.
What?! What else must I do? What else do I need to do to stop all this?! Why nothing I ever do is enough?
The presence tugs more insistently and Yu almost roars with all the pain and frustration but suddenly he realizes-
He can move again. The presence jostled him free. He steps out of his younger body, emerging like a cicada from a chrysalis, and takes a deep breath. He isn’t feeling any better, but he can move, at least. He turns and finds another passage just behind him. Not a door, but a portal, like the one leading to Magatsu Inaba. But there’s no red and black swirling visible through this one. Just a calm, cloudless sky. Moss covers the weathered stone at the edge. Warm breeze is seeping through. And the presence is strong, bright as a guiding beacon behind it.
Tohru..?
He closes his eyes, and his knees finally buckle under exhaustion. He falls into the portal and then for a moment, he feels nothing at all.