Forced checkmate.

The day ended with labs, meaning Sai and I were left to walk from classroom to clubroom together. None of my last few lessons were shared with Pep, so I was completely unsure if she ever so much as showed up, but with a number of sighs I had accepted that there was hardly a point worrying about it.There was nothing I could do until school was out, so until then I would just have to suck it up and wait until I could lead and check on her at home.

That’s what, I thought, at least, until Sai and I entered the clubroom to found her sat on the table, staring out through the window and slowly kicking her legs, humming a tune to herself.

“Pep? I thought you weren’t in today?” I said, closing the clubroom door behind us. “Why weren’t you in class today?”

She didn’t respond immediately, but she stopped humming and kicking her legs, her posture shrinking slightly as she did. I couldn’t see her face, but I couldn’t imagine she was smiling. As if she had come here with the intent to talk, but regretted that decision now that the time had come.

There was a short but deafening silence before she spoke.

“I wanted to make sure that the first time I saw you two today was here. With just the three of us. In the place where this all started.” She spoke slowly and cryptically, causing Sai and I to glance at each other in confusion. Taking our silence as permission to continue, she spoke again. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since yesterday. So much thinking that the sound of my voice in my head has started to grate on me. Would you guys hear me out on it?”

She hopped down from her perch on the table and turned to face us both. She had on her face a small smile, and an abject sadness rested in her eyes. Her usually radiant skin was paler than usual, and it seemed like she had applied far less makeup than was normal for her. The afternoon sun hit her back through the window, causing a dull glow to settle around her, casting a shadow towards Sai and I.

She looked hauntingly beautiful, like a spectre, ready to disappear with the setting sun.

Her visage was so captivating that I entirely forgot to reply to her question.

“Please, speak as you wish. We are here to listen,” said Sai, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“Y-yeah. You don’t have to ask permission, just tell us,” I added, a moment’s hesitation causing me to stumble on my words.

Though I urged her to go on, something in my gut told me I didn’t want to hear what was about to be said next. Maybe it was the exhausted look she had, or the cryptic way she began the conversation, but something told me the words I was about to hear were ones I would prefer not to. Still, as her friend it was my obligation to hear her out.

“Yesterday’s stream left… a lot on my mind, to say the least,” she started, looking down just slightly to avoid eye contact. Her hands her behind her back, but I could tell my the tensing in her arms that she was anxiously fidgeting. “About myself, about the club, and most importantly about the three of us. Or, I guess, where I fit in with the three of us.”

I felt an involuntary twitch in my face that I hoped Pep didn’t notice. This was the topic I was subconsciously looking to avoid the most, and now that it was brought to my conscious mind, the pit in my stomach grew deeper.

Ever since Pep’s confession after the tournament, it was clear that the relationship between the three of us would eventually be irreparably changed in some way. The more I had thought about it, the more I realised that her joint-confession, and subsequently her request to “have” the both of us, was a thinly veiled attempt at keeping the balance between us. If we were all together, it would be just as even as all of us being no more than friends.

But both our real relationship and the one she proposed could only be described as a false balance.

Relationships can’t be reduced to simple terms like “friend” or “romantic partner.” Humans are too complex for that. Given a group of three people, it’s almost inevitable that each of the three will not be equally close to both of the other two. If two of those people end up drawing closer to each other than either of them are to the third, the third will inevitably feel alienated and ostracised, even if their relationships have fundamentally not changed.

However, if you reduce your relationships down to nothing more than those labels, you can perpetuate the lie that every relationship adhering to those labels is equal. That’s what Pep wanted to maintain. If any two of the three of us ended up together, the only way to preserve that perceived balance is for all of us to be together.

But all three of us had separately and silently realised that her ‘solution’ was no solution at all. It was just a convenient way to delay the inevitable.

And now, the inevitable was upon us.

As neither Sai nor I gave any verbal response, Pep took the floor once again.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but during the stream, you two were holding back, right? However it is that you guys normally talk or argue, you weren’t really doing it yesterday, were you? More like you were imitating yourselves or something?”

I was a little surprised, but also somewhat glad she had noticed. It was obvious to myself, and likely to Sai too, that our conversation didn’t have any of the bite or power it normally had. Neither constructive nor destructive, progressive nor regressive. Just retracing steps we had already taken before. It was a conversation devoid of any real substance, only meant to appease an audience we never wanted. For Pep to have noticed, she must have been more attuned than I had given her credit for.

But given the melancholic way she talked about it, I knew it wasn’t a particularly happy occasion.

“It’s funny. I could tell you were both holding back, trying to play it up for the audience in a way they could understand. But… even despite that… I just couldn’t keep up. It was like listening to someone talk in code. All the words made sense to me, but the way they were put together kept confusing me. And yet… neither of you ever so much as missed a beat. You never had to stop and think, or ask for clarification, or even so much as hesitate when you spoke. It’s like I said before, isn’t it? You two have a rhythm, a rhythm that only the pair of you could ever match. And all I was doing was slowing you down. After all we had talked about, all the reassuring I got from you guys, I was still a burden. And in the end… I caused you all that pain.”

In the pale light of the slowly setting sun, she stood as a monument to the limitations of human connection, her shape highlighted but her face obscured, her expression unreadable. And unlike before, her voice carried no barely-concealed sobs. No desperation or fear. No last thread of hope.

The only emotion in her tone was the last one I wanted to hear: complete resignation.

“You… can’t blame yourself for the way it ended yesterday…” I said, though hesitating as I did. “I lost my rag and said some shit I shouldn’t have. That’s not your fault. No one can be blamed but me.” I tried to speak with unwavering conviction, that she not attempt to counter me, but I was met by a slow and deliberate shake of the head.

“You’re wrong, Kabucchi. Maybe it was your decision, but it only happened because of me. I pushed you both into doing something you didn’t want to, I got punished for it, and in the end it was still you that got hurt. All because I couldn’t understand you two. All because… I don’t belong.”

I was locked in silence, though I so desperately wanted to speak.

She was wrong. So dead wrong that it hurt to listen to. But what did I have left to rebut with? It was just as she did before with the bet: she set up a verbal checkmate against herself, and was waiting for me to deliver the final move. Only this time, the checkmate was forced. Any move I made, including not playing at all, would result in her defeat, just as she had set it up. It was a genius ploy, something only someone with incredible self awareness could: defeat themselves in verbal chess.

“You’re… jumping to particularly extreme conclusions, do you not think? To see yourself a burden for decisions we agreed with and conversations we failed to include you in? Does the onus not fall on us, and not you for those reasons?” Said Sai, who had seemingly failed to realise the trap Pep had set. She couldn’t be blamed for springing it, of course. She didn’t know Pep like I did.

“‘We’ and ‘us…’ haven’t you noticed? You two have been on the same page since the start. I haven’t even been reading the same book. What place could I possible have among the two of you?”

“You… take my words devoid of context. Kaburi and I may agree on many social fronts, but we are not one and the same. There is as much space between us for disagreement as agreement. You are no different in that aspect.”

“But it’s not about agreement, Saichan. It’s about understanding. You and I… we fundamentally don’t understand each other, do we? We can try, and we can improve, but we’ll never really bridge that gap. Same with you and I, Kabucchi. All this time we’ve spent growing closer, but you and Sai chan have known each other for a fraction of it, and you’ve already eclipsed me. We were just… born too different for this to ever work.”

As I had suspected, now it was Sai’s turn to be locked into silence. Not just because Pep had played a winning hand, but because it was Sai’s own hand. She had said it herself: she and I had an intrinsic understanding unique to us. One that Pep really never could catch up with. The asymptote was too steep, and both of them knew it.

Sai couldn’t argue against a point she agreed with. And that setback had her stunlocked. Just enough for Pep to deliver the final blow.

“You two… neither of you love me the way I love you, do you?”

We didn’t speak, but our silence told all. She already knew. Of course she did. That’s why she told us not to answer her confession in the first place. A part of her must have believed that she could eventually even out the imbalances and “win” us both, but the days since then had proven to all three of us that it simply could never happen.

Did I love Pep? Of course I did.

Was that love romantic?

No. I now knew that. She now knew that. And there was nothing more that needed to be said.

And one look at Sai’s face told me she felt the same. This was the end.

“It’s okay, you don’t both need to look so guilty. I think, deep down, I knew it from the start. Dating both of you, what was I even thinking? I knew I couldn’t have either of you, so selfishly tried to grab both of you. And ever since I realised my mistake, I’ve punished myself for it over and over again. And… this is where my punishment ends. Where this… whatever triangle this was… where it comes to an end.” Pep stepped forward, her silhouette leaving the orange glow of the window and slowly approaching me, as she produced something from behind her back. “I filled all the details out for you, to save you some time. Not that I ever really needed to. I never actually earned my place like Saichan, did I?”

She handed me the small object - a rolled up clump of paper - and I unfurled it in my hands. A club resignation letter. Her name filled in at the top.

“Pep…”

“It’s okay, really. This space was for the two of you anyway. I tried to worm my way in as a member, but I was really just an interloper, forcibly placing myself where I didn’t belong. I’m just… righting that wrong now.”

While I stared down at the words written on the paper before me, she swiftly stepped past and headed for the door. No big hug. No goodbye. No fanfare. Just a quick, quiet step towards the exit.

She had made her decision, and it was hers and hers alone. Her independence, her agency, it would be wrong of me to step on them. If this was what she had decided, then who was I to tell her not to? Who was more likely to know what’s best for Pep, her or me? What hubris would it take to presume to know her feelings better than she did?

So all I could do is let her walk out the clubroom door.

“...to hell with that shit…”

Pep’s footsteps stopped as I muttered to myself.

“Kaburi?” said Sai, her voice equal parts confused and concerned.

“I said to hell with it!”

I held the resignation letter above my head and ripped it in two. Then I repositioned my hands and ripped both halves into halves again. And again, and again, until all I had left were tiny useless scraps of paper, each too insignificant to bother preserving.

“Kabucchi, what are you-”

“Pep, I have something to tell you.” I spun on my heel, locking her eyes with mine. I had never noticed how bright her eyes were, even in the dim room. She was truly beautiful. Which is why I knew the thing I was about to say probably seemed like an unforgivable sin. “You’re right. I can’t love you the way you love me. I can’t love you romantically.”

Both girls stared back at me, wide eyed. Sai’s shock seemed to be yelling ‘why the hell are you saying this now,’ while Pep’s seemed not to be saying anything at all. Just an indescribable well of emotions that could only be expressed with a countenance that was equally as indescribable.

“K-Kabucchi…”

“I’m not done. You’re right, my love for you isn’t romantic. And my understanding of you isn’t as deep as I’d like it to be. But you think that means that the relationship we do have isn’t worth keeping? You want to cut off more than a decade of friendship- of family- because we have a difference in feelings? Because we have misunderstandings and personal failings? I can’t accept that. Because I love you, Peppi. Maybe it’s the way someone loves a sister, not a lover, but either way, I love you. And I won’t let you take that away from me over this.”

I let out every objection I had been holding in, every word I knew she didn’t want me to say, all before she had a chance to talk me out of it. Because it was no longer a matter of agency or independence. It was a matter of watching someone I loved hurt herself and walk out of my life, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night if I just stood and watched like a damn coward.

Maybe I didn’t know what was best for Pep. But I sure as hell knew what was right for me. And her idea? Walking out and leaving a hole in both of our lives? I knew that wasn’t it. It couldn’t be it. I wouldn’t accept it.

She was too important to me to give her up without a fight.

“But… I just hold you both back… it’s better for you if I leave now, isn’t it?” she replied, her previously resolute tone now shaky. She clearly didn’t expect me to bite back.

“Bullshit. So you can’t always understand us, so what? You think Sai understands everything you and I say to each other? Hell, I don’t even understand you and Sai half the time. You can’t understand the relationship between two other people? Who the hell cares! It’s your relationships that matter, and I’m telling you right now that you mean too much to me to just walk out that door and pretend we’re strangers.”

“But we just don’t understand each other like you and Sai do!”

“And we probably never will. Tough luck. You think that devalues the last, what, thirteen years of our lives that we’ve spent together? Our understanding of each other might not be as natural or deep, but it’s been hard won, and it’s still being hard won now. You’re telling to let you through that all away, let those years of growing closer fall to the wayside just because Sai and I are more naturally attuned? Like hell am I gonna let you do that!”

“But… but…”

She had no counter to make, and yet I could tell by her steadily breaking composure that she wasn’t yet won over. She was still conflicted: her desire to run away and protect herself from pain, and her desire to stay with us and protect what she’s built. Both at each other’s throats, wrestling for control.

“If I may…” the first to break the silence was, surprisingly, Sai. “Peppi, I cannot pretend to have a deep understanding of you, as you seem to seek. You and I have neither the intrinsic similarities of Kaburi and I, nor the storied history of Kaburi and yourself. So if my presence in your life is causing you pain, I accept that your decision may be to distance yourself from me. However…” she looked down at the ground nervously, clutching her hands over her heart and trying to hide the red in her cheeks, “I feel nothing toward you but deep gratitude and unwavering friendship. And I deeply, truly wish to learn more about you. I expect not for the road to be smooth or easy, but with you I truly do wish to walk it. I… I, too, cannot return your feelings. But, if you’ll have me, I wish to build a new relationship with you. From the very ground up. Both as friends, and equals. Are those terms acceptable… Peppi, my one and true closest friend?”

Sai held a hand out towards Pep, and for the first time ever, she held a genuine, unhidden smile. No smirk. No awkward avoidance. No waver. Just a warm, loving smile.

“You.. you both… why… why did you have to make it so much harder… why did you stop me… my one chance to leave…” Pep said, her previously stoic visage beginning to crumble and shatter.

“Because you’re not leaving. Not any time soon. Romantic, platonic, who gives a shit? You’re my best friend, and I love you. You’re sticking around, whether you want it or not. That’s what my selfishness says, and it’s not leaving room for argument.”

“You… you bastards…” The crumbling demeanour finally fell away, and Pep began to sob. First quietly, then intensely. And before any of the three of us could so much as say another word, she wrapped an arm around both of us and pulled us in, dragging us into a tight group hug. “Am… am I really okay… is it really alright for me to stay?”

“Is it alright, she asks,” tutted Sai, “as if you and I didn’t demand it mere moments ago.”

“You’re damn right, Sai,” I replied, wrapping my arms around both of them, pulling them in even closer. “You’re not going anywhere, Pep.”

As the sun steadily dipped towards the horizon, basking the room in the last of it’s orange glow, the heat it provided paled when compared to warmth of the people I loved.