Katsuya
The silence you wake up to is eerie. These days, when you’re waking up in the middle of the night, it’s usually to the complaints of your baby daughter. Right now, there’s no sound except for the faint snoring from Mai’s side of the bed. So it actually takes you a moment to figure out what woke you.
Right, your bladder.
For a moment, you grope around for the light switch before thinking the better of it. Switching on the light might not wake Mai, but then again, it might. And she deserves all the uninterrupted nights of sleep she can get, considering she is pulling most of the night shifts right now.
Of course, your attempt to be considerate immediately backfires when, feeling your way through the dark bedroom, you hit your toe on the corner of the bed. “Ouch, motherf-“ Continuing to swear inwardly, you hastily glance over to your now-stirring girlfriend. But she doesn’t open her eyes, and before the pulsing pain in your toe has subsided enough for you to walk on it again, the snores are back.
Nature’s call is getting louder and louder, but for a few seconds, you still can’t help but stand there on one leg and stare at Mai. How the everloving fuck did you get so lucky? How do you still feel so lucky after… it doesn’t even make sense to count the years, because where do you start? When you met? When you first knew you loved her? When you first knew she loved you? When you finally, finally got your shit together and asked her out? Sure, you prefer the way things are now, but… you wouldn’t miss the other stuff, either.
Just like, sure, you see why she puts in the effort to do her hair and put on make-up and you would never in a million years complain about those skirts she likes to wear. But. Right now, there is a weird crusty bit of spit dried in the corner of her mouth, and her hair is tangled on the pillow in a way that would make every nesting bird proud. She’s wearing one of your old t-shirts with a ridiculous ‘Is your name Polymerization? Because I could do a fusion with you…’ print.
And still, when you look at her, you feel just as surprised and... blissful as you did six years ago, when you thought you’d totally blown your first date, until she grabbed you by the collar and kissed you. Good thing she isn’t awake to see your response this time, because the romance is embarrassingly cut short by your need to run to the bathroom.
It isn’t until you’re on your way back, mentally half-asleep already, that you notice the light shining through the crack under Anzu’s door. Your bed is calling for you really loudly right now, but there is a 90% chance that she’s up because of your child, so maybe you should check in.
Your first instinct is to knock, but just in case Rory is falling asleep, you kick your little bit of good breeding to the curb and just open the door. For once, being less polite than you wanted to be was the right move, because your daughter’s head is resting heavily on Anzu’s shoulder. It’s probably just your imagination, but somehow, the tiny, tightly shut lids and the pursed lips remind you incredibly of her mother.
It takes Anzu a moment to notice you, she’s too wrapped up in the little dance she’s doing that apparently just put Rory to sleep. Finally, she turns in one of the swaying motions she makes, and spots you and your dopey, sleepy grin.
She mirrors it with one of her own, except – for three in the morning, she really doesn’t look sleepy. Motioning you to stay with a nod towards the bed, Anzu carefully bends over Rory’s crib and puts the baby down, tucking her in before she turns back to you. “What are you doing up so late?”
“I just needed to pee… and thought I’d check in on you. You still sure you want to do this? She is our kid you know… I mean I’m glad and all but you don’t have to stay up with her…” You pull back the duvet with the little pink roses on it and sit down on the bed, waiting for Anzu to join you. Another great thing about Mai: for all her feminine habits, she doesn’t have girly girl stuff like this. Then again, she also has no need to compensate spending her teen years with a bunch of guys.
“Don’t worry, I don’t mind. I mean, I could do without the crying, but I’m glad I can do something to help the two of you. Besides, this was the deal when I moved in, wasn’t it?” Anzu falls onto the mattress next to you, and promptly causes the bedframe to creak and herself to glance nervously in Rory’s direction. There’s another thing your baby girl has inherited from her mother, though, and that’s her ability to sleep through such minor disturbances. Breathing a sigh of relief, Anzu crawls under the covers and grabs your hand to give it a reassuring squeeze. “I’m really happy to do it. I love that kid. And I was up anyway, so it’s not like I’m losing any sleep over this.”
That gives you pause. You’ve known Anzu to be awake at all hours of the night, but that was usually because you woke her up. As far as you can tell, she is not naturally a night owl. “What is keeping you up, anyway?” It’s hard to tell in the dim light that the lamp on her nightstand casts over the room, but it almost looks like Anzu is… blushing? “Oh, you know. Just. Thinking. About stuff. And then I wanted to stop thinking and started to watch a movie. And then I started thinking again.”
Must be some movie. When you decide to watch something in the middle of the night, the only thoughts it usually gives you are ‘am I watching another episode or should I turn this off right now?’ “What movie?”
Anzu leans across you to grab the laptop she’s set on her nightstand, and although she doesn’t touch you, for a moment you feel disoriented by her closeness. Ever since she moved in, it feels like Anzu has become emotionally closer and closer to you and to Mai, but come to think of it, you can count the number of times you’ve been physically close to each other – at least for longer than a quick hug – on one hand. Apparently, she realizes the same thing, because when she leans back, Anzu hastily makes sure to put a few more inches of space between the two you. Instead of meeting your gaze, she pointedly stares at the computer, waiting for it to restart.
“It’s a German movie. There’s this… it’s about two people who fall in love with the same guy.” Yes, now she’s definitely blushing. You’re just about to ask why, exactly, that is so embarrassing to admit, when you’re distracted by her screen lighting up. The movie is paused, but even with the shaky quality, it’s easy to tell that those are two guys on screen, naked – at least the parts of them that you can see – and pressed up against a wall, kissing.
“What the hell?” That comes out way louder than intended, but right now, you don’t care too much about waking up Rory. You care about what Rory already saw and heard before she fell asleep, although to be fair she probably didn’t understand it. Still. “Are you watching porn with my baby?”
“What?” Anzu looks just as shocked as you now. “No, no, of course not! Why would you… it’s not even that graphic! It’s just a romance movie, with some sex scenes in it. I’m just…” She must realize how panicked and incoherent she sounds, because she stops and pauses for a few seconds. “Alright, I think I have to tell you something.” She snaps her computer shut again and places it carefully to her other side on the duvet. Should you reply something to that? Should you say something? It doesn’t seem like the kind of statement that needs a reply. But Anzu doesn’t say anything anymore, either.
You really can’t think of anything to say besides a nonplussed “…Okay…”, though, so you just sit there and watch her bite her lip. Finally, Anzu takes a deep breath and turns to you, but apparently can’t stand to look at you for any amount of time, so she quickly averts her eyes again.
“I think… I might be bi. Bisexual.” That last word comes out mumbled, almost as if she’s never said it out loud before and isn’t completely sure how to pronounce it. “I know that’s not supposed to be a big deal or anything and you probably don’t care because of… Mai and Yugi and all that but I don’t know… I just felt weird saying anything while I wasn’t sure. And… I think watching movies about characters who question their sexuality has… helped me be more okay with it? If that makes sense? That’s why I’m watching stuff like this. Don’t worry though, I didn’t show Rory any of the sex scenes or anything.”
Oh.
Well, there’s a situation you’ve never been good at. The first time you had to deal with it was when Yugi came out to you, and told you he had been… dating? In a relationship with? Having feelings for? the pharaoh. (You still haven’t figured out what exactly the proper term would be in this situation. Considering there really can’t be that many other examples for the same type of relationship, though – unless Ryou or Marik were up to something – proper terminology probably doesn’t matter all that much.)
Yugi was way too kind – and maybe too shy – to yell at you, so it took you a couple of weeks to figure out that awkwardly joking about how at least, that way you could be sure he hadn’t been looking at you the wrong way, was… not ideal.
Mai, on the other hand, didn’t pull any punches in letting you suffer the consequences of your stupid reaction. She gave you exactly one chance to imply that bi girls are hot, anyway, and you sure don’t mind thinking of her with another woman, so it’s no big deal, really… What followed was a scathing lecture and at least a week of silent treatment.
Sure, you and Mai were dating at that point, so it probably went across even worse than it would now with Anzu, but you get the feeling that she wouldn’t be happy about it, either.
Maybe you’ve been silent for too long, though, because Anzu finally looks up, and you feel compelled to say something, at least.
“Cool! I mean… that’s great for you! How… er… how’d you find out?”
The worried look on her face is replaced by a small smile, and the knot in your own stomach loosens a bit. Of course. Anzu would know how to tell when you’re trying to be supportive, but don’t know what to say. “There was… is someone, a woman, who I really like. It doesn’t matter, really, because that’s not happening. But I guess… she made me realize that I don’t just think other women are pretty, I really… find them attractive. It’s hard to explain. I couldn’t tell you when I realized, I just… know. Now.”
That’s an unfamiliar tone. Anzu has never been one to talk about guys like this – evasive, like their names are some sort of big secret, and pessimistic, like she doesn’t stand a chance with them, anyway. Then again, she has never been one to talk about guys much, at all. At least not with you.
“Why is it not happening?” you ask anyway. “Is she not into women?”
“No, it’s just… there’s someone else.”
“For her? Or for you?” Anzu smiles sheepishly, as though you’ve caught her on a topic that she was trying to avoid. “For both of us, I guess. It doesn’t matter. I just think it wouldn’t be good. But I’m trying online dating now. I went out with a girl I met online last week, she was nice. Not my type. But, you know. Someone else might be.”
Somehow, she doesn’t sound entirely convinced. Realizing you still don’t know what to do with the awkward silence between you, you push yourself off the bed. “Well, I guess that calls for some celebration. Do you want a beer or something?”
Anzu’s laughter and a well-aimed pillow hit you in the back of your head. “You call that swill you keep in the fridge beer? Nah, I’ll pass. I think there’s some leftover wine, bring me some of that maybe?”
Right. You’d forgotten the part where, ever since she spent two years in Germany, Anzu acts like she’s a beer gourmet or something. It’s not like she actually knows much about it – not that you do. You just noticed from the way she always lists the same three names when people ask her what kind of beer she does like, then. She sure loves to act like all the stuff you can get in Japan is horrible and undrinkable. It’s kind of cute, actually, in an annoying way. While you pour a glass of the leftover red wine, you briefly consider pointing out that Germany is supposed to have pretty good wine, too, and didn’t she learn a thing or two about that, as well? But then, you might never get to toast her coming out, and might be stuck with the awkward silence.
“So.” You try again, once you’ve silently toasted and each taken a few sips. “Who’s this other girl, then? Guy? I don’t know… that other person you were talking about? Any chance with him? Or her?”
One. Two.
Again, the seconds until her answer stretch into a silence that feels like it’s making the air around you… heavier, somehow. Finally, Anzu leans over and places her head on your shoulder. Her cheek feels moist against the fabric of your t-shirt, but glancing down, you’re not sure if her eyes shine like that because there’s tears in them, or just because of the way the light hits them. The other thing might be an illusion, as well, or maybe it’s just the way she’s breathing on you.
“I don’t want to talk about it. Okay?”
No. Actually, not knowing something that makes your best friend look so defeated and tired doesn’t feel okay at all. But this doesn’t feel like the moment to push her to speak.
“Okay.”
For a while, the two of you sit there in silence, the only sounds each other’s faint heartbeats and the occasional sip of alcohol. After a while, the duvet between you rustles and you feel soft, warm fingers sliding between yours. If Mai grabbed your hand like that, you’d already have marks from her nails. But Anzu’s nails are neatly filed down, not noticeable at all.
“You know. I’m kind of glad that you’re dating girls. I guess… I’ll be less worried that you’ll meet some creep we’ll have to rescue you from.”
Mai/Katsuya
regular text: Mai's POV
bold text: Jou's POV
In spite of what you just said, going back to help Anzu with her shopping is the farthest thing from your mind. One thing at least is to be said for the numbness that has come over you – it is familiar. And you know how to treat it.
It’s been a long time since you felt the need to put as much space as possible between you and Katsuya, because that way, you could pretend that you didn’t care if he’s still there when you come back. Lately, your travels have almost always been undertaken for a destination, not for the sake of getting away. Right now, though, being free from him sounds like a wonderful idea. As long as you’re the one walking out on the situation, it’s easy to pretend like you don’t care if he is watching you.
The plan forms in your head as you board the subway, and is fully hatched by the time you pull out the overnight bag from under your bed. For a woman who secretly takes pride in being described as high maintenance, there’s precious little you actually need for a quick getaway. A few changes of clothes, a nightgown. Katsuya’s old tshirt, which you usually sleep in these days, remains untouched, flung over one of the bedposts. Passport, credit card, keys. Phone. That’s about it. Toiletries, towels, all that mundane nonsense – you’ll have the hotel take care of that when you arrive. As a last-minute addition, your makeup kit goes into the bag – you could buy that once you arrive, but really, who has the patience to select an appropriate color palette after a long and exhausting flight?
Although these days you’ve taken on many of Katsuya and Anzu’s money-saving habits, barely out the door, you hop into a taxi without thinking. “Airport,” you instruct, phone already in hand when the driver turns to you with a questioning look. “International departures.” A muffled female voice coming from the speakers of your phone catches your attention, and you quickly bring it to your ear. “Viv, hi, it’s me, Mai. I know this is last minute but… is your invitation still standing?”
----
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuckfuckfuckfuck.
Between all the times you’ve had reason to run that refrain in your head, you’d think your problem-solving skills would have evolved a little further. No such luck, apparently. Right now, you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place, and your usual strategy of just throwing a dopey grin at the problem and muddling through doesn’t seem too feasible.
If you stay here, like Mai wants you to, you’re not getting any closer to resolving this mess. And worse, you’ll probably confirm what she already thinks, that you don’t care enough to sort it out. The thing is, though… running after Mai is rarely a good idea. As enigmatic as she can be otherwise, her instructions about when she needs to be alone are usually unambiguous. And they sound very much like what you just heard.
On the other hand… usually, when Mai is running away, it’s because something, someone, got too close for her liking. So close that losing them would hurt, so walking away feels like the safer option. This time, it’s different. This time, you’ve given her a reason to worry.
Here’s the thing: In all the years Mai has practiced walking away from you, there was always the unspoken agreement that when she’d had enough, you’d still be here, waiting for her. This time, you’ll still be here, sure, but from what she must have taken from this conversation, she can’t be sure you’ll be waiting. So maybe running after her IS a good idea?
After a few minutes of indecisive pacing – during which several mothers have hurried their children past you with a concerned look – you decide that it’s worth a shot. Worst case, she’ll scream at you for not respecting her boundaries, she might add a few days to her sulking time. At least she can’t accuse you of not trying hard enough.
When the boutique comes into view, you already mentally steel yourself for another round of questioning by the sales lady, and if you were the type to pray, you’d definitely be putting in a few good words right now for Mai to be willing to follow you outside. No need to make a scene in there, make things harder for Anzu, maybe get thrown out. Just as you reach for the handle, though, the glass door is pushed open and you nearly collide with Anzu.
---
By the time you arrive at the airport, things are all sorted with Vivian, hotel reservations are made, and you’ve even called ahead to book a ticket on the next possible flight. Your bag is carry-on, so all that remains to be done after you paid the cab driver is find the check-in counter, retrieve your ticket and have them verify your passport, and then… wait. Boarding is not for another two hours.
For the first half-hour or so, you manage to ignore the buzzing phone in your pocket just fine – there is reading material for the flight to be bought, overpriced coffee to be had, a trip to the bathroom to be made after that coffee is consumed. Eventually, though, you find yourself exactly where you didn’t want to be: sitting alone, out of things to do, and thinking.
With a frustrated groan, you bury your face in your hands. No matter how hard you pull at your hair, the nagging voice in your head saying that this is wrong, that running won’t make things right, won’t be silenced. It won’t even be tuned out.
What if you got things wrong? No, he acted too guilty for that. Though guilty isn’t exactly right. Even in your worst worst-case scenarios, you’ve never assumed that Anzu and Jou are already doing it behind your back. Your worst fear, actually, is that what he told you is all true: He does love you. He probably doesn’t even want to act on these feelings. But they’re just too strong, and you know Katsuya’s stupid, big heart and his stubborn passion. Eventually, if he does love her, he won’t be able to deny it any more. And no matter how much he loves you, how guilty he feels for it, he won’t be able to stop… this from happening.
Whatever… this is going to be.
And then what?
---
Anzu is suspicious of your panicked look and your inability to tell her where Mai went, but with a combination of telling the truth and cheerfully lying through your teeth, you finally manage to get rid of her. You feel bad for the lying part, but there is no way in hell Mai and you could sort this out with her around. And explaining everything so she understands why you need some space… well, aside from all the questions you really don’t want to raise right now, there’s just no time. Not when Mai is planning who knows what to put more distance between the two of you.
So, in spite of everything you’d still like to say on the topic, you assure Anzu that no, everything is fine. (Lie.) You were just surprised about her and Kaiba (half-truth), but you’re happy if she’s happy (definitely true). Yes, Mai and you got inot a bit of a fight (true), over your reaction (well…). No, nothing major, she just went to grab takeout dinner to cool off a little, and you were going to meet back here to ask if Anzu would mind giving you the flat for a few hours (definitely a lie.) You just need to talk things out, then everything will be fine. (God, how you hope that is the truth.) Mai isn’t picking up her phone now (true), so she probably forgot and went straight home (hopefully true.) Does Anzu mind?
Of course she doesn’t, it’s Anzu. Nothing if not accommodating. She’s been wanting to do some more shopping anyway (at this point, you’ve lost track, but you’re pretty sure that one’s a lie on her part.) And she’ll find some way to keep busy after. Just call when you are done.
Now that, you don’t want. As panicked as the situation has you, it seems wrong to keep Anzu out of her own home, without giving her a reason or a time frame. So you’re going to have to go with another half-truth, and be sure to make it happen. Surely, this will only take a few hours, say, three? You’ll see her there? And you’ll have dinner ready, it’s the least you can do.
It sounds surprisingly calm and collected out of your mouth, but on the way to the subway, your thoughts all tumble together. Is home really the best place to look? Probably not, it’s the only address you have, though. If Mai wanted to cool off in a bar or a café somewhere, she could be anywhere. There’s no way you could guess the place. So home, after all, is your best shot. Aside from Mai’s phone.
Each time you call, the line rings and rings, and then goes to voicemail. Each time you call, your own phone grows a little heavier, a little hotter in your hand, until your fingers begin to slip on the sweaty display every time you redial.
---
There’s barely even a ring, that’s how quick he is to pick up. You’re greeted only by silence, though, so at first, it is hard to tell whether he’s really there on the other end.
“Katsuya?”
This was meant to come out calm, a little apologetic, maybe, but it turns out fluttery, uncertain whether your peace offering will be accepted.
“Yeah. I’m here.”
It’s impossible, of course, but you feel almost as though you can hear the nervous, erratic heartbeat on his end of the line.
“I-“ At the same time at which you muster up your courage for an apology, he finally chimes back in. “Where are you?”
Confused silence, as you both cut off to let the other finish.
“I’m at the airport. I was going to – never mind. I’ve been stupid. We should talk. Where are you?”
He wouldn’t admit it if asked, probably, but there’s the tiniest rush of relief in his voice.
“Just got home. I asked Anzu to give us the flat to ourselves for a while but maybe…”
No. Meeting at home doesn’t feel right. This conversation will be too weird, too complicated, anyway. Figuring out whether Anzu has gone from the closest thing to a bestie that you had to your… rival, would probably be the word, is not something you can do between the silent witnesses of your everyday family life. Home is too much the three of you now.
“We should go somewhere else. Can you meet me in the middle? I’m sure we can find a restaurant…”
“I’ll get you.”
There’s a sudden finality in his voice, and maybe just because, your head immediately starts firing objections. He does’t have a car. Your waiting will take longer than if you just meet him somewhere. You’re the one who messed up, so you shouldn’t just sit around and wait for him to fix it.
But there’s also the damn familiarity of having Katsuya meet you in the arrival hall where he’s met you a million times before. And there’s your stupid, stupid heart that just wants to hold on to this image for a moment, and remember what it was like when there was really just the two of you. And you didn’t have any doubts at all that he loves you. Wants you. Needs you even, maybe, although you’ve never been that much of a fan of the whole dependence thing.
So the rational objections can bite you.
“Okay. I’ll be here.”
---
“I’ll grab something to drink. Want anything?”
Something to eat sounds tempting, even though you’re not massively into fast food, after all, you haven’t eaten since the three of you left the house this morning. But nothing comes to mind, and you can’t be bothered to make any decisions right now, so you just shake your head.
“I’ll get us a table.”
Making your way between the rows and rows of mostly crowded tables, you try to decide which one will make for the least disastrous setting for this conversation. What says ‘I know our relationship is potentially hanging from a thread, and I really care’ - that big table over by the window where a family of five just left a bunch of messy trays behind? Or the booth next to a group of teenagers who will probably throw fries at you? With an exasperated sigh, you finally settle on a tiny metal table in a corner, wedged under the air condition so it’ll probably be freezing, but at least you’re not going to have any noisy neighbors and it seems semi-clean.
Jou returns while you’re still rubbing at dried ketchup stains with a paper napkin, and puts down a tray in front of you. “I didn’t –“
On the tray, napkin carefully folded and tucked between them, sit a small cardboard box of chicken nuggets and a vanilla milkshake. Comfort food. Or at least it used to be, way back when you had your first job and not a lot of opportunity or money to eat anywhere else than in the cruise ship dining room, usually with men about twice your age. McDonalds, though, as much as you dislike burgers and fries, was always affordable and always somewhere to be found, when you were making a stop somewhere and had a day off.
“How do you do that?” You’re trying to come up with a memory of when you told him this, but you can’t. Which definitely means that you haven’t spent a lot of time discussing it, and probably that it’s been a while. So how does he remember this kind of thing?
“Uh, because I’m awesome and you’re lucky to have me?”
With a cocky grin, Katsuya sinks down on the chair across from you, and takes a sip from his mango smoothie. As playful as his words are, they make your heart contract painfully, and you quickly avert your gaze.
“Do I, though?”
Fine, it’s clunky and awkward, but this is where the conversation was headed eventually, right?
“Do you what? Have me? ‘Course you do. I mean… I love you. And also… in the general sense that I’m here right now and we live together and all that and… ok, there’s really no way to make that not sappy, is there?” He’s starting to stumble over his words, and when you dare to glance up, you realize his face is glowing red. “Okay, fine, you have me. You know that. Unless of course you don’t want me anymore, in which case you can always return me, and then you won’t have me anymore, I guess. I’ll still be totally in love with you and all that but I’ll respect it if you don’t want to be around me of course. And I suppose if I have to I will get over you in like three decades or something if I can’t see you. Except I’ll still be Rory’s dad and if you think I’m ever giving her up you’re really wrong so yeah… I guess you have me.”
