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The first sacrifice was a pencil.
Yu had always been precise about the number of items in his pencil box, after all — two black gel pens with a needle point, two mechanical pencils on 0.5mm leads, a retractable eraser, a metal ruler, a small roll of washi-tape and a pair of slim, compact scissors, all of them neatly tucked away in a translucent polypropylene case.
On the Friday morning of a maths quiz in April, there’s a nervous tap on his shoulder, a hesitant finger poke once, twice.
“Hey,” Yosuke greeted him sheepishly when he turned around, “sorry to bother, but have you got a pencil I could borrow? I think I’ve misplaced mine.”
It’s oddly polite wording, considering all that they’ve been through in the TV world over the last few weeks. Yu inclined his head slightly in thought; a piece of stationery should be less onerous a request compared to a rescue from a rampaging shadow or a last ditch gamble to tip the scales in a fire fight. Somehow, though, Yosuke seemed to have less qualms about asking Yu to put his life on the line, and it’s a thought that amused Yu.
“Of course,” Yu smiled in a way that he hoped was assuring, and he pulled out one of the pencils from his box and handed it to Yosuke, “do you need an eraser too?”
The school shop would be open by now, and Yu was pretty sure he could make it there and back before the next period if he sprinted.
“Thanks partner, you’re a lifesaver,” Yosuke sighed with gratefully, even though in felt pretty trivial in the grand scheme of things, “and no, I’ve got one right here, it really was just the pencil that I forgot.”
He’s in the middle of considering his reply when Chie spoke up next to them, frowning slightly.
“Again, Hanamura?” Chie said, and in any other situation, Yu would have assumed that it was one her typical jabs at him, a trigger for one of their usual back-and-forth banter. But there was an unexpected hint of seriousness in her tone, and Yu noticed that she was worrying her lower lip as she waited for a response.
Yosuke shrugged.
“More people than pencils in this school, I guess,” he said, and the frown on Chie’s face deepened. Yosuke’s words at Souzai Daigaku last week suddenly came to mind, and in the context of Yosuke’s self-described infamy, Yu understood. Yosuke glanced over at him then, and Yu watched as his expression shifted into one of carefully crafted cheerfulness, “oh geez, not you too! It’s not a big deal, I promise I’ll return it once the test is over.”
“Hmm?” Yu blinked at Yosuke. He hadn’t realised his own expression had changed — so much for that poker face he was told he had — and he shook his head slightly, “no, that’s not — actually, give it back for a moment.”
His fingers brushed against Yosuke’s for a brief moment when he took his pencil back, and both Yosuke and Chie watched as he snipped off a small strip of tape, wrote his name down on it in neat, tidy strokes, before carefully sticking it along the length of the pencil. This time, when Yu handed the pencil over, the word ‘Narukami’ was emblazoned neatly over it.
“Keep it,” Yu said preemptively when Yosuke opened his mouth, “I don’t know if that will help, but I haven’t been losing stationery yet.”
There’s a brief pause here, Yosuke watching the pencil and Yu watching him and Chie watching the both of them, until Yosuke eventually relented, carefully plucking it from Yu’s hands.
“Well… if you’re sure?” Yosuke asked, hesitant.
“I am,” Yu promised solemnly, “it’s yours now.”
He probably looked a little silly then, being so grandiose about this, but Yosuke seemed to relax and, really, what more could Yu ask for? He took it in this new smile of Yosuke’s — no longer sheepish and embarrassed, but shy and well pleased — and Yu offered another of his own.
“Boys.” Chie muttered under her breath, turning away just as their teacher entered the classroom.
For some reason, the little gap in his pencil box didn’t bother Yu at all.
The second sacrifice was a pair of reusable chopsticks, liberated from the bottom of a cutlery drawer in Dojima’s kitchen.
The old, orange plastic container housing them was worn, its originally transparent cover scratched up to the point of becoming milky and opaque. Like the pencil, Yu had carefully labelled it with a small piece of tape, slowly writing out the strokes of an unfamiliar word on it. He had asked, of course, and Dojima had stared at him in confusion for a moment before grunting out that Yu could take it. The thought of his plan had kept him up in excitement, and the slow seconds of the morning period passed agonisingly until the bell for lunch finally rang.
“Lunch together?” Yu asked, turning around in his seat to offer Yosuke an easy smile. It’s habitual now, and Yu enjoyed this ritual, the promise of seeing Yosuke return a grin at him each day, “I made extra ginger pork last night.”
“Again?” Yosuke laughed, “if I didn’t know any better, I would think you’re trying to spoil me.”
“It’s just a bit of food,” Yu raised the carefully wrapped bento box up, shaking it slightly at Yosuke to tempt him, “you don’t want it?”
“Well, I didn’t say that,” Yosuke huffed, pushing himself up from his desk. The two of them made their way up to the rooftop, shoulders pressed close together as they fell into easy conversation.
It’s sunny overhead, with the tell-tale sign of summer incoming. Their usual seats were warm to the touch, but the open excitement on Yosuke wore made Yu feel even hotter under his shirt.
They’d probably need to transition to their summer uniforms soon, Yu thought to himself.
“That smells delicious,” Yosuke said when Yu undid the tidy knot of the lunch bundle and lifted the cover of the box, “ah, wait, I forgot to get a pair of chopsticks from the cafeteria.”
“Here,” Yu said, handing the chopsticks to Yosuke before the other could stand and carefully watched Yosuke’s expression, “this is for you.”
“My name?” Yosuke asked slowly, an eyebrow raised as he looked up from the chopsticks box labelled ‘Hanamura’ in tidy print and back up at Yu’s face.
“It seemed right to do so,” Yu felt himself grow warmer even though he had replayed this scene in his mind so many times over last night, “since we’re eating together everyday.”
“That’s only because-” Yosuke started, and then stopped himself abruptly. His eyes returned to the chopsticks, turning them over and over in his hands in thoughtful scrutiny. Yu waited, a breath held in his chest until Yosuke began to speak again, only relaxing when Yosuke beamed at him, “well. Saves me that trip to the cafeteria, right?”
“Exactly.”
“Better for the environment too — I probably shouldn’t be using disposable chopsticks all the time.”
“Yup,” Yu laughed, feeling giddy lightness in his heart now as he presented the open box to Yosuke for a second time, “shall we eat?”
The third was a t-shirt, retrieved from Yu’s wardrobe when Yosuke slept over.
“You’re sure I can borrow this?” Yosuke asked, holding up the pale grey item in his hands.
“I mean, if you’d prefer to sleep in that coffee soaked shirt…”
“That’s not that I meant,” Yosuke said hastily, “it just feels too nice a shirt for bedtime.”
Yu considered the shirt for a moment, and he supposed he could see Yosuke’s logic. It’s one of Yu’s favourite pieces of clothing, an impulsive splurge from some high-end store in Ginza, and it had a decadent softness to it. But when Yosuke had knocked his cup over and asked to borrow something clean to wear, Yu’s first thought had been to pull that shirt out for him.
Maybe he did like spoiling Yosuke. He didn’t see why it could be a bad thing, though — there’s something about Yosuke that made Yu want to shower him with all the best things.
“I suppose you could also sleep without a shirt-”
“Absolutely not,” Yosuke retorted, and then tugged off his coffee shirt so he could replace it with the one in his hands. There’s a brief burst of disappointment that sprung up inside Yu that he didn’t understand, and he packed it away for re-consideration later as Yosuke smoothed down the front of his shirt with hands, “so? How do I look?”
“Handsome as always, partner.” Yu said honestly, and it made Yosuke blush a little.
“It’s a nice shirt.”
“It’s a nice shirt on you.” Yu amended, and the flush on Yosuke’s skin deepened attractively.
“Yeah, yeah,” Yosuke shook his head, unfortunately unconvinced. Yu waited for him to toss the stained shirt into the clothing hamper by the door before crossing the room to slip into the futon next to him, “it’s comfortable though. A little looser than my own, but I guess you’re just bigger than me, huh?”
“Only by a tiny bit,” Yu poked Yosuke with a finger, and Yosuke erupted into boyish laughter, “I think I could fit into your clothes, no problem.”
“Stop that, I’m ticklish,” Yosuke giggled, swatting Yu’s hand away, “and not if you keep bulking up the way you have been. See?”
Yosuke reached over, pushing up the hemline of Yu’s tee and placing his hand on Yu’s abdomen. The skin of Yosuke’s palm radiated a profound heat that sunk into him, and for a moment, Yu stared blankly as Yosuke’s fingers trailed absentmindedly over his stomach, over each curve of muscle in wonder. It’s not an unpleasant sensation by any means, and once the shock of it wore off, Yu realised how nice it was. He wanted more of it, for Yosuke’s fingers to inch further until their heat had marked every inch of Yu's body.
It’s about then that Yosuke suddenly realised what he was doing, and he withdrew his hand hastily. Yu lamented the loss of that warmth, but Yosuke’s fluster gave him little to complain about.
“So-sorry partner!” Yosuke choked out, “I don’t know what-”
“-it’s okay,” Yu said quickly, feeling very choked up himself, “I don’t - I don’t mind.”
Yosuke’s gaze met his, and Yu found himself impossibly drawn in. He wanted something then, something he couldn’t put a name to and label.
“Yeah?” Yosuke whispered, licking his lips as he looked at Yu. Yu wondered what Yosuke saw, if he was feeling much like Yu did.
Because Yu was seeing a lot of things right then — from Yosuke’s still-damp hair to the long lashes of his eyes framing an expression that seemed to beckon Yu forward in invitation. Yu wondered what would feel more pleasant to the touch, the twenty-thousand yen t-shirt or the heat of Yosuke’s skin against his.
“Yeah,” Yu answered, leaning in closer until his fingers found Yosuke’s, sliding tentatively into the gaps between Yosuke’s own and intertwining them. It’s clumsy at first, until it wasn’t, the two of them a perfect for each other. Yosuke squeezed his hand, smile shy and pink and wonderful, and Yu refused to let go as well.
Yosuke could keep the shirt, Yu thought as he drifted off into his sleep — he’d found something much better anyway.
The fourth was a notebook that Yu kept meticulous notes in.
It’s a small, paper-bound journal, slim enough to fit into his pockets. Yu wrote everything inside it, from his observations about the local fish in the Samegawa river and the growing patterns of the vegetables in their garden patch, to the behaviours and personalities of each cat he came across in Inaba. There were pages of writing about the TV world too, like the various shadows that they came across, each team member’s strengths and weaknesses and optimal team compositions as well as their ongoing hypothesis about the culprit behind the cases.
Today, though, he scribbled down a tidy shopping list before handing the notebook to Yosuke.
“Thanks again for helping me out with restocking,” he said as the two of them ducked under the awning of the bookstore, “it’ll give me time to get to the daycare job today and finish off some homework before we go into the TV tomorrow.”
“Of course,” Yosuke sighed, slipping the book into his pocket without a second glance, his attention already returning to Yu, “you should have asked me for help from the beginning — you know I would have said yes, right?”
Yu knew Yosuke would, and it was precisely the reason why Yu didn’t want to ask, “you’re busy enough, and I didn’t want to bother.”
“You’re plenty busy,” Yosuke fired back, and then he sighed again. It was enough to make Yu feel a little guilty, but thankfully, Yosuke changed the subject, “well, we can talk about that later. I don’t want to hold you up anymore. I’ll come by your place at 7 with everything?”
“That works for me. See you later.”
“See ya!” Yosuke waved him on, and Yu headed off.
He didn’t like that he had to trouble Yosuke with a bunch of boring errands just because he made a mistake on his schedule, but he couldn’t deny that it brought a sense of relief as well. Yosuke was his ever-reliable partner, after all, and even though it had pained Yu to ask, he knew he could trust Yosuke to complete the request competently.
That sense of reassurance lasted a mere five minutes — Yu was about halfway towards the bus stop when he suddenly remembered what he was writing in his notebook last night. Just four long pages of scribbles about potential date ideas with Yosuke and options for how to ask him out in the first place.
He cursed under his breath, swivelling around and marching back in mild panic. The chances of Yosuke seeing those notes were low, Yu reasoned to himself, since it had only been a few minutes. And if Yosuke had seen them, then, well.
Yosuke was still at the same spot where Yu had left him, reading something in the notebook with intense focus; he didn’t look up when Yu approached him, and Yu felt his heart drop.
“Yosuke.” Yu began, and Yosuke glanced up, startled.
“Yu,” Yosuke said guiltily, and if that hadn’t been enough to confirm Yu’s worst fear, a single glance at the open notebook did, “hey.”
“Hey,” Yu shifted, “so, um…”
He swallowed, unsure of what to say at all. An apology seemed absurd, even though it was his first instinct. Laughing it off as a joke would be sheer cruelty, and Yu refused to do that to Yosuke. Maybe he could pretend it was some other Yosuke somewhere else, but Yosuke wasn’t an idiot. Yu wasn’t ready for this at all, not when he still wasn’t sure how Yosuke actually felt about him, if there was anything on top of their deep, inseparable friendship.
In his agony, Yu almost missed Yosuke’s words.
“I’m free on Friday.”
“Sorry?”
“Friday,” Yosuke repeated, blushing as he did, and Yu marvelled, “I’m supposed to have a shift at Junes, but I think I can get out of it. Movies and the music shop in Okina sound like a good idea, since I promised to introduce this one musician to you. If you - if you want to, of course.”
“Of course I want to,” Yu said quickly, blinking. A movie and the music shop — that was idea number three in his notes, and Yu could hardly believe his ears, “it’s a date?”
“Yeah,” Yosuke softened, smiling at him, and a knot that Yu hadn’t known was in his chest untangled itself at the sight, “it’s a date.”
The fifth was a stick of tinted lip-balm that didn’t belong to him.
“At least that’s finally over,” Yosuke complained as he stomped into the empty classroom, Yu following closely behind, “now I can get out of these clown clothes.”
“You really don’t look that bad,” Yu assured him. Neither Kanji nor Teddie were anywhere to be seen, so he locked the door behind him so they could change out of their pageant outfits, “I think you look cute.”
Yosuke whipped around to shoot him a look as he tugged his hair tie off, “you’re just saying that to be nice.”
“When have I ever said something just to be nice?” Yu sighed, pulling off his wig, “I mean it, you do look cute.”
“Why would I want to look cute? What does looking cute get me?” Yosuke grumbled, pulling out a makeup wipe from the pack that Rise had given them earlier that day and rubbing his face with it. In truth, Yu could think of a hundred things that Yosuke could get just from being cute, but he decided to hold his tongue for now.
“Pass the pack of wipes, Yosuke,” Yu said instead, but it gave Yosuke pause for some reason.
“Oh?” Yosuke glanced at him, “you’re removing your makeup already?”
“You are.” Yu pointed out, but Yosuke shrugged.
“Yes, but I look hideous. You, on the other hand…” The red tinge that Yosuke had been carrying on his skin all day had now returned, and Yu brightened, moving forward and putting his hands on the table behind Yosuke to trap him close against him.
“Me? What do I look like?” Yu said softly, and Yosuke huffed, pressing his palms to Yu’s chest with little effort.
“You look… urgh. You look cute. Pretty. There, I said it. Happy?” Yosuke answered, but Yu could see that his eyes had strayed downwards to Yu’s lips, and the smile on his face widened.
“Sure,” Yu laughed gently, “anything else?”
“What else is there?”
“You seem to be looking at my lips, Yosuke,” Yu teased, “is there something you want with them?”
“I,” Yosuke glanced up to meet his eyes, swallowing. They were close enough that Yu could see himself reflected in Yosuke, could make out the subtle shifts in movement as Yosuke swallowed, “I just - well, I mean. Your lips look pretty kissable there, partner.”
Whatever Yu was expecting Yosuke to say in response, it wasn’t that. Forwardness in this department wasn’t typically Yosuke’s forte, after all, and with their busy days, they rarely had a moment to themselves, much less the opportunity to venture anywhere beyond hand-holding. Perhaps now was the time — prior to this, Yu hadn’t even realised how much he had been looking forward to it, and the gratification of knowing that he wasn’t the only one feeling this way ignited a heat inside him.
“Do they?” Yu asked, anticipation hot and tight in his chest as he spoke, “maybe you should try them out for yourself.”
Yosuke looked at him, fond and exasperated all at once, and then he was leaning in, his lips pressed to Yu’s in a single, swift motion. It’s warm and pleasant and it gave Yu a heady delight as Yosuke’s presence overwhelmed every single one of his senses, but it was over before Yu could even luxuriate in the moment.
“I guess you’re right,” Yosuke smirked, and Yu felt a hand rustle around inside his pocket, “looking cute does come with some benefits. Maybe I’ll take this for myself.”
Yu watched as Yosuke pulled out the stick of tinted lip-balm that Yu had been using and slipped it into his own pocket, beaming with faux innocence the whole time.
“That’s Yukiko’s, you know?” Yu admonished without heat, already leaning in for a second kiss. He could figure out how to explain it to her later.