FINGERS CROSSED, yuzuha usagi

CHAPTER SEVEN

There had been a time in Yasuko's life where she felt truly happy, where her mother's arms were her only comfort for the cold winter and her grandma's lap the warmest seat at the table. Sea shells hung from the fan of her bedroom and the chandelier of the living room, height trails grew on the doorframe of the kitchen, crystals were lost on the earth of the porch, swimsuits gave up their bright colors under the sun's eye, a worn out space next to the entrance made by a pair of flip flops and a surfboard. Yasuko had left marks on every part of her old house, hoping she wouldn't be forgotten too quickly and mourned for another day or two, until the shells were cut and the walls repainted and the beach stuff donated.

It was a reminder that she'd been there. Alive, grieving for love, just in case, even when she wasn't meant to. Since she was born, she'd always been a promise. Between her mother and father, between her grandma and herself, between Aguni and Ikehara, between Arisu and Usagi. She'd been chewed, and savored, and rubbed against bloody gums as an unbearable thought, as someone that was hard to get over and so easy to find back. And still, she tried to leave at least a scratch.

"Listen." Usagi's voice drew her closer to the corridor Arisu and her were chatting with three other guys, all spread on the floor, the blue on their backs their own synonym of failure. "The most important thing isn't just winning the game, it's getting back to our world."

Her steps alerted Arisu, who looked over his shoulder as if he'd seen a ghost. Something flashed inside his gaze and his hand ventured up to squeeze her arm. A welcome, perhaps.

"If all you really care about is winning, then sure, you're doing everything right. You're protected by the Queen, and you can live in this world forever, but is that what you want?" Usagi kept on taking the lead since no one answered, "If our side wins, we can beat the Queen. And if we beat every single face card game, then there's a chance we can get back home again."

"There's no going back there, ever." One of the guys said bitterly.

"The games have rules, like the rest, and if the face cards lose, they get killed just like us." Arisu joined her, "Which means if we beat them, there won't be anyone else. This will all end if we win every face card game." Yasuko understood almost immediately what they were trying to do.

"That's just a guess, nothing more, man!"

"Yeah, a guess, and hope." Arisu told him, he had that look on his face again, one that swore he'd do anything at his reach to make sure he got it right. She had seen it many times before, even in the mirror, swimming in the brown of her eyes. "Maybe hope is what we need to survive, and I won't give up."

"You can extend your lives here with the Queen, but what does that mean?" Yasuko dragged her feet one step ahead, yet she stopped the second Usagi pronounced: "You're spending the rest of your lives killing each other, that's not life."

She had heard that once. Her lips had trembled and she hadn't dared to sit at the end of her bed, but her voice came out strong and cold, smelling like homemade pasta and Sunday tiredness. That's not life, Yasuko. She had watched her breath as deeply someone avoiding to tear up would, and leave without saying another thing, impregnating the room with her perfume for enough days to store below her pillow. That'd been truly the last time she had seen her mother, the last time she had talked with her, even if she only had listened in silence, with her head down and her nails digging on her palms crescent moons.

But there, facing Usagi's back, she knew she had a point. Like every mother had once in their lives. Perhaps that wasn't life, perhaps she had it wrong all that time, perhaps they were put on that earth to be tender and loving during a moment they were expected to be cruel and calloused, perhaps it wasn't as complicated as she was thinking it was.