He was serious when he said he likes a girl who looks like she needs protection.
Risette – Rise, she wants to be called Rise – might be the most crushed on girl at Yasogami High, and yeah, way out of his league, but he can't really help it. Yosuke thinks it might be in the face, the way she smiles. It reminds him a little too much of Saki-senpai.
Not that he'll ever admit that to anyone, least of all himself.
It's her personality, too. The bubbliness, the wide – too-wide – smiles. The lit-up eyes. The kindness, the caring nature.
The best thing about her, he thinks, is that all of it is real.
She was the kind of girl who liked the bishounen type. Feminine hair, lovely eyes, cool personality.
Kanji Tatsumi is everything but, and that befuddles Rise. She does flirt with all of them, teases and laughs and jokes, mostly with Senpai, but it's him that gets the brunt of it. The truth of it.
Rise wonders sometimes if maybe, just maybe, this is another facet of herself. A different version of her tastes altogether, a new her. The real her.
Maybe it doesn't really matter.
She flirts with Kanji every chance she gets. Smiles, winks, giggles and laughs. And yeah, he gets flustered, and blushes because he's Kanji-kun.
He never follows up on it, though. And Rise's not even sure if she should just do it herself.
She doesn't think she's brave enough.
He thinks he's liked her from the beginning.
From the minute he saw her, laid eyes on her, whatever. It doesn't matter.
It's strange. She's everything he's not. Mysterious, cool, brave, fragile, alone—
Smarter than him, too. She could talk circles all around him all day if she wanted to. He supposes it's his luck she doesn't. She'd probably get agitated anyway.
Above all that, he's glad she's a little dense. Got a tin ear for feelings, for emotions. He's not sure if it's kinda ironic that a Detective Prince can't pick up on his frustrations, his movements and emotions. It mighta been a little funny, if it had been anyone but him.
He already knows what she'll say if he says anything. Approaches her. She'll reject him. Everyone does.
So he'll keep it to himself, hope the detective boy – girl - doesn't notice.
Of all of them, she relates to Souji most.
A similar mind, similar powers of deduction and foresight. They can engage one another in conversation, speak and conjugate. He would make a good detective, one day. He has a knack for it. If she were sentimental, she might say it runs in the family. She is not sentimental.
If she were shallower than she was, she might also admit that she found him pleasing to the eyes. He was not a sore sight. Good mind, good appearance, good match.
His parents are not quite around as well. Not as dead as her own – the thought hurts – but absent from their lives. Away. She can sympathize.
She supposes it is what makes them so very alike.
If she were less confident, she may admit that this was wishful thinking, and a detective had no use for such a thing as wishful thinking.
He likes her hair the most.
Black, raven-haired. Like his mother's. When he was little and she was around more, she would let him brush her hair, play with it. Run it through his fingers, curl it around, tangle it and brush it out again. But then his mother had no need for a dependent son and she was gone more often than she was around.
And when she was around, it was never for long enough.
He wants to take Yukiko away from here. She deserves a place unlike Inaba. Somewhere colorful. Full of lights. Tokyo. Osaka. Hokkaido or Sapporo. Somewhere where she can truly shine.
At his side. With him.
He talks to her every moment he can, spends more time with her than with anyone else. Favoritism, he knows. But he can't help it.
He has the tendency to play with her hair. Brush it from her face, tuck it behind her ear, run fingers along the edges of her neck on accident.
She is beautiful, and he really cannot help himself.
Chie's the only one who's really there for her.
She knows her other classmates, mostly the girls, don't particularly like her – Gets special treatment, Mooroka's mad at Amagi-san again think I should thank her for taking off the heat, she's so cute, we don't get on well – but Chie's not like that. Chie doesn't care. She's there, like a friend should be.
And Yukiko thinks that maybe, maybe, she likes Chie a little more than a friend. It's just the way Chie is, she thinks. So likable, so carefree, so funny.
Loyal. A better friend than most friends.
Red looks good on you, Yukiko, - And she blushes more than she ever should.
Red looks good on her. It sticks with her a little more, bothers her more than it should. Looks good on you. Looks good on you.
Late at night, Yukiko turns over meanings in her head and tries too hard to sleep.
She thinks she likes Yosuke, not for the free food, but for the fact that she can tease him and he doesn't care. Doesn't take it personally. Gets annoyed, snaps at her, but can grin and laugh about it later.
She'll complain about the late night phone calls, but she won't deny the way her smile lights up the same way as the face of her phone. And yes, she'll answer snappishly, angry and annoyed, but she'll laugh too hard at the jokes and then chide him for them later.
He does tell good jokes. She'll never admit it though, not to anyone but herself.
She can handle late night phone calls. She isn't sure if she can handle rejection.
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