Work Text:
Yosuke feels the rumble of the train picking up speed as it heads out of Yasoinaba station. It’s rattling his brain, unsettling his stomach and giving his voice a strange, unsteady wobble. He looks around at all his friends, still standing at the end of the platform with wet eyes, and suddenly he can’t get away fast enough. Quickly, he says his goodbyes to the gang, rattling off some flimsy excuse about a shift at Junes. Only Teddie knows it’s a lie, and Yosuke is grateful when the bear remains silent.
Once he’s on his bike, Yosuke allows his cheerful mask to fall. The tears are slipping down his cheeks, so he just rides, harder, faster, letting the wind dry the tracks instead of wiping them away himself. He wishes he could close his eyes, but even then he knows the only thing he’ll see is Yu’s face through the glass of the train window.
Somehow, he finds himself on the banks of the Samegawa, in the exact same spot he’s lain with Yu after their fist fight. He had been sore, and bruises had already begun to blossom along his ribcage, but he’d felt so good. Yu’s hands were responsible for the rapidly darkening marks on his body. Yosuke remembers how he’d run his fingertips, calloused from handling his kunai, over the bruises when he lay in his futon that night, thinking he’d be happy to bear those marks forever. Almost like carrying a little piece of Yu with him always.
Yosuke wonders if things might have turned out differently if he’d only known how to say the words he really wanted to say. Would it have made a bit of difference? If Yosuke had gotten his shit together and poured his heart out to Yu, would it have been enough to make his partner stay? He’d practiced a speech weeks ago before the bathroom mirror until Ted had pounded on the door to see if Yosuke hadn’t drowned in the tub.
Sadly though, he never used his speech, cold feet overtaking him at the last minute, rendering him silent. After all the crap he’s given Kanji over the last few months, it had seemed sort of hypocritical to admit how much he liked Yu. If what he felt could even be described as like…
And now school would be starting soon. How is he supposed to spend all day there, when everyplace he looks will remind him of Yu? Yosuke wonders if it wouldn’t be better to just drop out, tell his parents he’s never going back there again, and instead take a full time job at Junes. But that plan’s no good either. Junes holds just as many memories as Yasogami High… the t.v., the food court, getting arrested, Yu standing up to those part-timers on Yosuke’s behalf, the concert.
This is the other part of the reason he’d given up on confessing his feelings to his partner. He hadn’t wanted to have Yu for such a short time, only to lose him. And in the end, it’s been for nothing, because he’s wound up alone and in love anyway.
He’s been lying in the grass for all of forty five minutes, sad, sappy love songs blaring from his headphones, when he reaches a hand in his jacket pocket, digging for a pack of gum. His fingers close on a folded up piece of paper, thick and soft to the touch. Curious now, Yosuke pulls out the paper and turns it over a few times in his hand. His name is printed on the outside in Yu’s neat, unmistakeable script. When had his partner put the note here? Maybe when they hugged goodbye? Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Yosuke opens the note with clumsy, trembling fingers.
“I left this for you because I don’t want you to feel alone. When you moved to Inaba, I know all your old friends let you down. Please know that I’ll never do that to you. No matter how far apart we are, you’re my best friend, and my partner. Never forget that.”
Yosuke traces the words with his fingertips, imagines Yu writing this note at his desk, slipping it into Yosuke’s jacket pocket, unseen. And even though it hurts like hell, it also makes him smile. No one’s ever done anything like this for him before; it’s no wonder he’s fallen so hard.
He rereads the note ten times before folding it back up and pressing it lightly to his lips. Then he places it back in his jacket pocket, gets up, climbs on his bike, and rides home.
It’s not until later that night, after he’s bathed and changed into warm, soft, bedclothes that Yosuke finds the second note. He’s just sliding into his futon when his foot brushes against something cold and unyielding, and yes, maybe he shrieks a little. And he might or might not roll off the mattress and onto the floor, tangled up in blankets. But Teddie’s taking a shower; there are no witnesses, so Yosuke’s never admitting to that.
His mouth falls open when he sees Yu’s sword in the middle of his bed, nestled there like it belongs. It’s the heavy one, with the elaborate detailing etched into the sheath. And tied to the hilt is another thick piece of paper. Yosuke’s heart leaps at the sight of it. In a flash, he’s scrambling back onto the bed, and forcing himself to be careful and not tear the note as he frees it from the sword.
“Teddie helped me with this one. I’m leaving this with you for safe keeping, because this is where it belongs. Home is where the heart is, they say, and mine is in Inaba. Take care of it until I come back.”
Dazedly, Yosuke blinks back more tears. He'd thought he was all cried out earlier but it seems he was wrong. He can't help but wonder if Yu means for him to take care of the weapon or his heart. Maybe both. Yu is never careless with his words; surely he must have understood how this would sound.
With slow, reverent care, Yosuke nudges Yu’s prized blade to the edge of the futon, leaving it as close to the wall as he can get it, then crawls back in after it. He pulls the covers over his frame, then curls the fingers of his right hand around the sword’s hilt, tracing the worn spots Yu’s fingers have gripped so many times before. It's the next best thing to holding his partner’s hand.
A shuddering breath leaves his lungs, and he closes his eyes. Absently, his left hand worms its way beneath his pillow, and he almost sobs when he finds another missive left there.
This time there is very little care at all when he rips the note from its place. Sitting up, Yosuke yanks the curtain open, allowing the soft glow of the street lamp outside to flood the dark of his room. By that warm light, he reads this last note from Yu, and a ridiculous grin spreads across his face.
“They say if you love someone, you should tell them. This is me, telling you. I love you, Yosuke Hanamura. It took me much too long to figure it out, and even longer to admit it. I hope you'll let me make up for lost time. Go check your photos.”
Hands shaking, heart pounding, Yosuke fumbles for his phone on the floor. A moment of sheer panic seizes him but then his fingers close around it like a lifeline. A hundred years pass before he gets to his photos, and there he finds it. A picture of Yu, a small, shy, hopeful smile on his lips, grey eyes shining like diamonds, holding a train ticket in one hand and small sign in the other that reads, “I love you.”
Yosuke isn't aware he's dialed Yu’s number, never hears the single ring, but suddenly he can hear his partner’s voice in his ear. “Yosuke?”
Far too much time has been wasted up until now, and Yosuke knows he's not going to let a second more pass without letting Yu know his feelings. He's been terrified that admitting the truth would be the end of everything, but maybe it doesn't have to be. And when he answers, “Me too, partner,” he thinks maybe this will be their new beginning.