madimpossibledreamer

            You cling to this ‘girl’ persona for all you’re worth.  It’s the only thing keeping you sane.  “If you wanted to date anyone here, who would it be?”
            The representative is about to speak, but Yosuke shakes his head.  “I’ve got this,” he states with determination.  It’s the same sort of confidence he gets in battle, channeled, nervous surety that always gets your heart racing.
            This scares you a little.
            He stares straight at you.  “Seta.”
            Instantly, there’s protest.  Chie kicks him, if his yelp is any indication, and hisses, “That’s not funny!”
            He waves it all away.  “This isn’t a joke.  Believe me,” he takes a deep breath, then continues, “…I might be a jerk sometimes, but I’d like to think I’m not that cruel.”  He rubs his leg a little.  “I’ve had a long time to think about this.  Actually, I was hoping that this exact situation would come up when I put in the suggestion for the Group Date Café in the first place.  Guy or girl, I don’t care.  I realized, well…”  He rubs the back of his head a little, the tips of his ears glowing red.  “Aside from the guy thing, you’re exactly my type.  You’re an amazing cook.  And that’s, like, eight-tenths of the battle right there.”
            He winks.  Your mouth’s been open a while.  You’re really hoping that you don’t look like a complete idiot.
            “You’re funny.  You’re shy, though when you start talking you open up and it’s amazing to see.  You’re really intelligent and you do sports and you play my stupid obscure games and read the same manga and I don’t feel like such a loser, you know?  You’re responsible and talented and everyone looks up to you, even some of the senpai.  You’ve got a huge heart and you’re an amazing hero, and you’ve seen everything that makes me feel like I’m worthless and still like me for me, and someone that amazing doesn’t come around too often.”
            By this point, Chie and Yukiko are listening with rapt attention, and even Daisuke’s impressed.
            Yosuke meets your eyes, and for the first time you catch that he, too, is nervous.  “So, I guess I’ll say it again.  I’d date you, Seta.”
            You smile for what feels like the first time in months and reach out a hand, and he takes it.
            “So, this really is a group date, now,” Yosuke jokes, beaming ear to ear, like this was all his idea (which you now know it really kind of was).  It’s far too goofy to be smug, though, and you’re wearing a matching grin.

            You’d almost imagine the conversation never happened.  There are a few days where Yosuke’s a little more hesitant to swing his arm around your shoulders, but that passes and it’s like nothing’s changed.  It’s nice.  It’s frustrating.
            He doesn’t ask you if he’s the last person to know, though by now he must be reading the signs.  It’s only by his behavior—subtle changes, but he’s putting more thought into his actions sometimes.  Which is disconcerting.  Weird.
            He doesn’t tease Kanji—not about that, anyway.  Not much in the grand scheme of things, honestly, but.
            He doesn’t make any more jokes about the girls, and he certainly doesn’t call you late at night to talk about girls in your class.

            “I can’t leave it alone,” you say, and Yosuke winks at you.
            “I’m glad to know you’re that kinda guy,” he says, and his voice is soft and grateful and you try not to blush.  Apparently, you succeed even if you don’t trust your voice, because he turns to Chie.