entranceway | 10th side [action]

He’s in Junes. Now there’s a locale he knows by heart. It’s perfect and clear and feels so natural; even though it seems like it’s been a long time he’s not put off at all. The movements are all automatic. He’s always felt a bit like a dog, coming when called and playing a constant game of fetch, but it just made it that much easier to go on and believe that nothing was wrong.

When he sits down for lunch break in the food court, nobody joins him. They never do, and he’s not surprised.

(But there’s always a table where I’m never alone. Where did it go?)

He plays idly with the straw in his mouth, noisily slurping at the icy, watered-down drink at the bottom of his cup, and checks his phone with his free hand. There’s some spam at the top of his inbox, but it’s otherwise empty as usual.

(As usual?)

Well, he does have a pile of saved mail. Saved mail. Since when does he do that? He presses buttons and brings it up.

There are days and weeks and months worth of messages. Any one he randomly choose comes up right away. They’re all from the same sender.

“Hana-chan!”

His head turns towards the voice right away. It brings happiness to his face before he’s even done the motion and he’s not sure why. It’s warm and it tugs at his memory like it was something treasured. Those three syllables, exactly as they were.

Her face, however, was a blur.

No, no, that wasn’t quite right. There were features that he all recognized. When he looked at the eyes, he saw her eyes, or her brow, or her hair. But her face was never altogether one at the same time. He looked and tried and he wanted, but it was simply out of his reach.

Still, there were those sweet words. A dog will always come to the voice of its master, no matter who the voice belongs to. It’s surreal, and even though he knows it’s wrong, he stays. He longs for it so much he refuses to leave. If he did, he’d be trampling over something important.

Besides, the table isn’t there, and there isn’t any mail. When he stands up and she wraps her arms around his, he feels very weak, like she’s holding him up. It’s so perfectly painful he never wants her to let go. For once, someone needs him, and won’t leave. He won’t be alone and he doesn’t have to worry that he will be. It’s so right like that, with the wonderful sound of her voice…

His cheeks ache from smiling.

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Souji waits, reminded yet again how lucky he is that his own vulnerable moments have been seen so seldom by his friends.

When Yousuke finally approaches him, he embraces him, a tacit reminder that he doesn't have to apologize for this.

Yousuke leans into him, feeling how solid and warm he is. After a few moments, he buries his face into his shoulder and hugs him back, so tightly he was clutching. He holds his posture like he's in pain.

Souji's arms tighten around him, one of them around his waist (like normal) and the other up around his back and shoulders. He doesn't say anything for a little while. He's not really sure what he could say that would help. What finally comes out is:

"I'm here."

He nods against him in acknowledgment. Souji was here. He wasn't alone.

"You're not going anywhere. Right?"

"Right." Not intentionally, anyway.

"...Okay."

Yousuke lets go. He can't look anywhere but the floor. He feels so ashamed. And this way, tears won't roll don't his cheeks. Instead he hopes in vain that Souji won't see them as they fall.

Souji reaches for Yousuke's hand and twines their fingers. "Let's go somewhere else."

"Yeah."

The girl had been crying, a strangled, broken sound, not human at all. But it was beginning to fade. Everything was starting to blur with fuzzy distortion, while the sky blinked black and red. Any people milling about were gone.

Still, he held Souji's hand tightly. The space around them stayed clear.

Souji steps forward, starting to lead Yousuke out of this dream. If he can find the way out, anyway.

Looking where he came from would be a good start. But he better be quick about it, because things seem to be getting more and more sinister as time ticks by.

Souji starts moving.

"Be here now, Yousuke."

But here is the last place he wants to be right now.

Still, he raises his head. When he sees his surroundings, he jumps in fright and smacks into Souji's back.

"How do we get out?"

Souji had meant "with me". He squeezes Yousuke's hand and nods ahead of himself. "I came in from this way."

Came in? So he "entered" somehow-- Yousuke nods at him in return, as if to say, lead the way. He could hold back tears and stay focused long enough to follow him.

The world around them continues to deteriorate, but the space they stand in stays solid, as if their connection was holding it together.

It takes Souji a few minutes, but he manages to get them back out. Once they're out in the hallway, he exhales as though he's been holding his breath for the last little bit.

Being back in the mansion so suddenly is disorienting, it being so different from Junes. And it felt so real...

God, he was such a fool. His hand slips out of Souji's and he looks back down to the floor.

"I'm sorry."

Souji looks at their hands then at Yousuke. He considers for a minute, then reaches and tries to take Yousuke's hand again.

"Don't. It was the same for me."

Yousuke doesn't protest, and looks up at Souji in silent questioning.

"There are also things I don't want to lose."

"Did you have a dream too?"

Souji nods. "Naoto brought me out."

He looks down at their hands, and looks up again, biting his lip. He has something he's trying to decide...

"...What happened?"

Souji tightens his hand around Yousuke's. "I got to stay."

He narrows his eyes, thinking back and then realizing.

"In Inaba?"

Souji nods.

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