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Inaba’s winter night air bit at Souji’s skin as he stood outside the shrine’s gate, waiting for all of his friends to show up for the New Year's Eve celebration. Most of them had already made it — the ones who could show up at all, anyway. Chie and Yukiko huddled together beside him, having already grown cold from their brief exposure to the wind. Chie had forgotten her hand warmers and hadn’t hesitated to let everyone know, but just as Souji had been about to offer up his gloves, Yukiko had graciously offered to warm her friend’s hands up in her own. That was a problem he hadn’t minded someone else solving, for a change, and certainly not when it came to those two.
Kanji was also here, having arrived first since he said he’d been late last year. Souji remembered it differently, but was happy to see him regardless. He hadn’t been able to spend much one-on-one time with him since he’d arrived in Inaba a few days ago, so just seeing his usual shy half-smile warmed Souji’s bones. Kanji said everything he had to in small but profoundly expressive ways — with his eyes, with his posture, with his silence — a habit that Souji often appreciated. The two of them watched Yukiko and Chie chatter while they waited for Yosuke and Teddie, the only two of their group who were still missing.
Naoto and Rise were both in the city for the holidays, and Souji had been thrilled to find out that they were spending tonight at least together in Rise’s flat. It seemed like a cruel trick of fate that Souji had been able to meet his friends in Inaba while the two of them had to remain, and he was sure the duo would be texting them all around midnight, desperately wanting to close as much of that distance among them as they could.
Eventually, the time to midnight drew closer and with it, Souji’s concern over Yosuke and Teddie’s absence. It must have shown on his face, because Yukiko suddenly broke off from their conversation about New Year’s food to mention it.
“I wonder if Yosuke-kun got held up at work,” she said, rubbing her small gloved hands together.
“Eh, I bet Teddie did something. That’s what happened last year, remember?”
“What? What did Ted do last year?” Kanji asked the group.
“I don’t know,” Chie shrugged in answer. “I just remember Yosuke being aggravated about it.”
Yukiko chuckled. “I’m surprised you would remember that. Yosuke-kun being aggravated at Teddie is something that seems to happen just about every day.”
The group began going back and forth after that, as Souji stood and listened with an eye on the shrine's gate. Not being able to spend the New Year’s Eve celebration with Yosuke, in particular, made Souji’s stomach twist anxiously. He already found it unfair that Yosuke would have to work that night for the second year in a row, but Souji had also originally planned to hang out with him much earlier in the evening, well before the celebration really kicked off. Judging from their text exchange this afternoon, Yosuke had been pretty disappointed, as well.
He hadn’t had alone time with his friend since that summer, and those memories were already feeling like they’d happened years ago. Souji wanted to hear Yosuke’s laugh in person again — the loud one, raw and untethered from his ego, the sound that felt like stumbling upon a rich vein of something rare and inherently precious. He wanted to listen to him talk, kick the pebbles beneath their shoes as they walked the well-beaten paths to the Samegawa or the overlook.
He liked being next to him, regardless of what they were doing, as long as their shoulders bumped and Souji could catch the way his fine, brush-bronze hair fell over his face. Imagining the feel of it between his fingers had become quite a normal fantasy for Souji, though he wouldn’t be able to testify as to when that started. Like a lot of aspects about his relationship with Yosuke, Souji had simply stopped questioning it. He’d never had a great deal of insight into his own attractions or (in many cases) the lack thereof, but as he grew into a man, his intellect wasn’t to be fooled.
Souji loved him. He knew that. Had been knowing that. He likened his attraction to a kitchen sink that had been left running a pencil-thin stream of water into its basin until it was running over. But the graduality didn’t feel quite accurate. Because when he remembered the beginning, the very beginning, when they first discovered the TV World and made that ridiculous promise to each other, when Yosuke had tearfully told him “thank you” and later (in the rain, when no one else was around to hear it) that he was counting on him — it made Souji realize that his intellect didn’t stand a chance against what was in his heart.
“Oh, look, here he comes now! Yosuke-kun!”
“Yosuke~!”
His friends’ voices snagged Souji out of his thoughts, and he glanced up to see Yosuke pass through the shrine’s entrance brushing the hair out of his eyes (and looking quite frustrated), along with Teddie, dressed as if it were sub-freezing outside, who zoomed past his big brother to join their group. Teddie practically bowled Souji over, but Kanji was quick with a hand around the young boy’s collar and plucked him right off.
“Waaah, let me hug Sensei!” Teddie wailed, when Kanji wouldn’t let go.
“Calm down, bear,” he grumbled, maneuvering Teddie to stand between him and Yosuke’s approaching figure.
“Hey, sorry we’re late. A few people called in sick and Dad needed the help,” Yosuke explained less-than-enthusiastically. Now that he was closer, Souji could see the flush in his cheeks and how he was readjusting his clothes, and suspected that Yosuke had been running to meet up with them.
“That’s okay, Yosuke. I’m glad you could make it at all. I’m sorry you had to work late.”
Yosuke’s eyes met his and, instantly, some of the aggravation seemed to ease back from his smile.
“Are you gonna even have time to grab snacks? It looks like all the booths have lines,” Chie said nervously, visually scouting around the snack tents herself. She was probably just looking for thirds, but Souji feared she was right. There was only about five minutes until the countdown.
“Nah, I’ll be fine. I grabbed some energy bars and scarfed them down in the breakroom earlier. Those things are surprisingly filling.”
“Energy bars?! That’s no way to eat on New Year's Eve! Ugh, Yosuke, that’s just depressing.”
“What do you want me to do?! We got here late! And anyway, it’s not like I won’t be eating New Year’s food tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry, Yosuke-senpai, I’ll get you some New Year’s food! I’ll just push myself to the front of the line,” Kanji said, with a flex of his biceps.
“Don’t,” Souji warned.
“I want some tazukuri. Tazukuri!” Teddie wailed.
“Blegh,” Yosuke spat.
“I’ll get you some at my family’s Inn on New Year's Day. How does that sound, Teddie?”
Teddie’s eyes got big and watery in the bright round lights that were strung all around the shrine. He clasped his pink-mittened hands together beneath his chin. “Yuki-chan, you’re a true New Year's angel!”
Yosuke pulled a face. “There is no such thing,” he muttered, rolling his eyes.
Souji bit back a laugh at the indignant look Teddie shot Yosuke, hiding his smile behind his black glove. Even though Yosuke was clearly grumpy, Teddie’s tendency to ham up every emotion always seemed to break what little tension their quibbling would cause. Even Yosuke quirked a wry little grin at the look on his adopted brother’s face.
Souji tried to soothe his friend’s feelings with a back pat when an announcement bellowed out from the steps of the shrine. The deputy mayor was excitedly cajoling the crowd into starting a countdown to midnight from sixty. A few attendees, having clearly warmed their hearts with festival wine, joined him.
Souji glanced around their group, and while most of them seemed dumbfounded by the long countdown announcement, Yosuke looked noticeably distracted. He was shuffling in place and glancing around him, at Souji, and Souji quickly grabbed ahold of the attention that shy flick of his eyes gave him.
“What’s wrong?” he asked him. The crowd around them wasn’t loud yet, but the strong voice at the microphone was incredibly so.
Yosuke hesitated before finally saying, “Nothing.” And he smiled, shakily, and Souji could see plainly the pain behind it.
Souji tried to distract himself with the countdown again, but he couldn’t take his mind off his friend beside him. Yosuke was fidgeting more, and he wasn’t participating. He looked like he wanted to run, or scream, or do just about anything other than stand there.
So Souji asked him again.
Yosuke’s eyes finally settled on his — and they looked serious. Souji watched him swallow hard. The countdown neared the forties, and the crowd was getting louder. Yukiko had started to join in, followed quickly by Teddie.
“Um,” Yosuke hesitated, again, and Souji’s concern was suddenly pressing hotly against his chest.
“What is it?”
“I need to talk to you. Before it’s New Year's . . . there’s something I have to say.”
Wordlessly, Souji let Yosuke pull them both away from the growing countdown and their friends. They stopped beside one of the old, bare-branched trees that sat apart from the bulk of the crowd congregating near the shrine’s center walkway. Here, even though the sound of the countdown was booming in his head, Souji could at least hear Yosuke’s voice.
“I wanted to tell you this earlier. Like, way earlier. Actually . . .” Yosuke looked down between them. “Actually, I should have told you this before you left Inaba the first time.”
Souji could only look at him with his lips parted. He imagined the kitchen sink, its rim running over with veins of water that streaked down the hardwood cabinets. It was what Yosuke’s eyes looked like right now — filled completely with something they couldn’t hold onto any longer.
“Because I knew it then,” he continued, his voice cracking at the last minute. “I knew it then and I still let you get on that train. I was still just a coward, even after all we went through together.”
In the sudden silence, both of them could hear the countdown enter the twenties, and a fresh wave of panic crested across Yosuke’s face as he stared into the crowd.
“Yosuke,” Souji said, his voice surprisingly calm even though he could feel his heart fluttering wildly in his chest, like a bird trying to escape its cage. “It’s alright. You can say anything you need to. It’s just us,” he reminded.
Yosuke nodded at him, then seemed to gain his bearings.
Ten—
“I love you, Souji.”
Nine, eight—
“Damn it,” he swore, looking down and then back up, and Souji’s heart had an iron grip around his lungs. “I mean, I’m in love with you. I wanted to tell you at the overlook. It’s the place where I first realized . . .”
Five, four, three—
“. . . You’re special to me in ways that no one has ever been before.”
One, Happy New—!
“This scares the hell out of me, you know?” Yosuke cried, swallowing. The crowd was roaring around them, but all Souji could focus on was the shake in Yosuke’s voice, in the pounding in his own chest and the tingle in his fingers and lips and nose. “Because it’s you. And me. And finally telling you . . . I-I have no idea what’s on the other side of this. It’s like falling through the TV for the first time all over again.”
Someone bumped into both of them and Souji shoved them away at once, uncaring how hard or fast he did it. Yosuke’s face was overflowing. And the words — the words Souji hadn’t ever expected to hear — were falling out of his friend after all this time.
Yosuke took a deep breath, and said, sadly, “I don’t even know if you feel the same way, but I—”
And so Souji kissed him.
Yosuke gasped against Souji’s mouth, and the sound was so quiet and perfect against Souji’s lips that he couldn’t contain his smile. He kissed him harder, with Yosuke’s fists clenching into the shoulders of his jacket and his soft lips, warmed by the fire in his blood, smiling against his, too.
He wasn’t even mad when another partygoer knocked into them again, breaking their kiss. It just meant he was able to look into Yosuke’s eyes and see for himself the confirmation and relief and amazement wash over his friend’s features.
Souji brought his hand up to trace his thumb over Yosuke’s jaw, which Yosuke shuddered and shut his eyes to, allowing Souji’s skin to trace his, allowing Souji to pull him in again until their noses brushed.
“Yosuke, I . . .”
“There you guys a—”
They both snapped their heads in the direction of Chie’s voice. She stood several feet away, both her hands on her hips, with the rest of their friend group surrounding her. However, the look on her face didn’t match the haughty tone of her voice from a few seconds ago. Her eyes were wide and her jaw was slack, and Yukiko, also wide-eyed, was slowly reaching for her hand.
“—Are . . . uhhh . . . n-nevermind!” she said, much too cheerfully.
“Wait, hold on — were you guys just makin’ out?!” Kanji gawked, pointing at them.
Yosuke stiffened in Souji’s arms and Souji reached down to grab both his hands at once.
“Uhm, we—” Yosuke sputtered.
“Yosuke . . . ? Sensei . . . ?”
“Kanji-kun! Teddie!” Yukiko admonished, now firmly tugging Chie away and reaching out to do the same to the remaining boys.
“Um . . .” Yosuke started again, this time looking down at their connecting hands for a moment, then looking back up at their friends with a guilty smile. “Well, Happy New Years, guys! Later!”
“Happy New Years,” Souji echoed, with a polite nod, just as Yosuke yanked him by the hand and led them both away.
Their dumbfounded friends slipped from view as Yosuke guided them to secrecy, weaving them through and past the people still cheering and congratulating one another, past the booths wafting scents of delicious festival food Souji’s stomach would definitely not have been able to handle right now, as unsettled as it was with the weight of Yosuke’s confession. All of Souji was tingling and buzzing like the wings of a hummingbird and he’d never felt happier. His winter coat and scarf felt stifling, even as his breath puffed in the crisp chill around him.
Yosuke’s hands were ungloved. Souji had just noticed, now that they were well past the shrine celebration and tucked away in the spotty woodland behind it, standing hand-in-hand.
“Well, that’ll be fun to explain tomorrow,” Yosuke quipped, scratching the back of his head.
Souji chuckled. “Tomorrow? What about Teddie? Won’t he interrogate you when you get home?”
“I may just stay out all night,” Yosuke said sardonically. He gave a heavy sigh and pulled out his phone. Souji caught a glimpse of the screen, already full of notifications written in all caps, before Yosuke immediately re-pocketed it. “Better wait to check your phone 'til tomorrow, partner,” he winced.
“If you’re worried about Teddie, just stay at my house for tonight,” Souji offered shyly, tugging on Yosuke’s fingers that were still captured in his own.
Yosuke laughed nervously, as if he were wary of showing how much he liked that idea. He grabbed a hold of Souji’s other hand, running the pads of his thumbs over Souji’s palms.
“Wouldn’t hurt to consider, I guess,” he relented.
Souji felt his cheeks grow hot so he looked down at their hands again, at Yosuke’s ungloved fingers entwined in his own. He could barely believe it.
“Happy New Year's, Souji,” Yosuke said softly, causing Souji to tear his gaze away and look up into Yosuke’s eyes.
For the first time that night, perhaps in a while, those eyes looked light. The two of them were surrounded in darkness, of course, so Souji couldn’t make out the flecks of gold in them like he could in the daytime. But they shone with brilliant clarity, as if they were looking out for the first time in years, and liked what they saw.
Souji certainly did. He always had.
“Happy New Year's, Yosuke.”