Written for TereziMakara as a part of GenEx 2017 exchange.

Inspired partly by TereziMakara's suggestions and partly by Ibuki's Free Time Events, but mostly by one of the Chapter 1 Hidden Events. Have fun!

Kazuichi Souda, in spite of what some people tended to think, liked to set clear goals and always knew what he was aiming for. Perhaps that's why he has found his greatest passion in disassembling and putting together all different electronic devices. He had never learned it; combining dozens of seemingly unmatched screws, springs and other mysterious, somewhat rusty elements hiding inside of metal skeletons into a complete and harmonious whole was natural and reminded him that life was also shaped like a scheme, so that any bigger problem could be solved by looking at it from the right angle and the right perspective. Souda had remembered about it when his father had thrown in the corner yet another empty beer bottle and cursed his son as well as all those who appeared in his sight. He had clung to this thought, trying to be deaf to teasing of his fashionable classmates or when he had pulled out his notebooks from a stinking public toilet and watched the notes running down his hands together with ink and wet paper, turning into a mush. He had repeated it in his mind like a private litany whenever an empty wallet had reminded him that in the near future it wasn't going to be magically filled with money.

Every detail is a part of a brilliant body. One screw affects the entire machine. Just see things as a whole, not as parts, and everything becomes logical.

Coming back home through the winding streets of a working-class neighborhood, sultry from the summer sun and smelling like diesel oil, Kazuichi Souda had been analyzing how first all cogs and gears appeared to be useless bits of junk. Everything changed after a closer look, matching together right elements and connecting cables, when separate parts started to work and created unity complex in its simplicity. Souda considered his life to be the same - he needed to imagine dreams like one of familiar engines and understand functions of each wire, then combine everything together. That was simple, and Souda knew how to build his own life.

But not everything turned out to be as easy as hair dyeing or sharpening teeth. Now the young mechanic yawned and rubbed his overtired eyes, feeling somnolence mixed with unusual resignation. On a large table decorated with an asymmetrical mosaic of oil and grease stains, where he liked to work, Souda had gathered tools and equipment suitable for repairing, improving, renovating or simply dismantling. All objects were now carelessly strewn around his workspace, left without any logic. He looked at the clock hanging on the wall. One in the morning. He should go to sleep. However, the promise of resting was followed by a feeling which Souda tried to avoid all night long, with better or worse results: what if he wanted to connect the wrong wires?

He cursed softly under his breath and pushed the screwdrivers aside.

So far the list of objects which have fallen victims to his growing frustration was quite long and wide, but that couldn't stop him from expanding it. During a three-hours session of working in the garage adjacent to his new home Souda has managed to take to pieces a dead camera, an alarm clock, a VHS player (originally, he had planned to beef it up a little and turn into a Blu-Ray reader, but the idea got boring in the middle of his job), as well as an electric cooker and a remote control, so old that Souda couldn't tell what was its first purpose. And today nothing helped. Fragments of various devices piled up on his right and left side in shaky stacks, bringing even greater chaos upon the workspace, and Souda's thoughts weren't more organized.

He yawned again, this time longer, and almost all his sharp teeth were illuminated by the bare bulb hanging over the table, which served as the only source of lighting in the garage. He joined both hands on his neck and leaned back. The chair crackled dangerously under his weight.

When back in school Kazuichi Souda had looked at Sonia Nevermind for the first time, above all he had seen her delicate and warm smile that seemed to posses the magical ability of encouraging anyone who needed it. The princess of the Novoselic kingdom had always walked in the hallway with her head held high and from that height looked at the future - a person coming to the classroom first just to greet each one individually and whisper a good word at the beginning of the day, never avoiding anybody, invariably looking others in the eyes. Her naive faith in a good fortune was so unwavering that in spite of the royal aura, telling an ordinary mortal to throw themselves on their knees, Sonia has never made her friends feel worse. Even Souda became someone. In retrospect, he knew that it was stupid, but as a boy who was more accustomed to criticism than to motivating he had immediately drawn attention to Sonia's forbearance and before he noticed, Souda craved for her recognition more than he could have expected. It didn't take long and every careless "we can do" sounded more like good wishes addressed just to him, and even a simple "let's try" could make Souda rise higher, above his own, still rather modest, dreams.

The high school was simple. For a kid every desire is at their fingertips, so Souda was running around Sonia like a puppy with a curved tail, trying hard to show off with a music box of his own design and get a miserable slice of the princess's favors. The Jabberwock Island helped Souda to deceive himself, too. Out of the former Ultimate Despair only five students survived, a pathetic outcome that stuck down in Souda's throat and made him cry at night like a baby. All the survivors were waiting for their comrades to wake up from the coma caused by the virtual simulation, what resulted in a bond much stronger than in times of sharing a school table or worrying that a person sitting next to you can kill the other day. Souda even let himself think that he and Sonia grew closer. He also decided that when (never if) the others would finally open their eyes, he would behave like a real man and talk to Sonia sincerely. However, life awaiting them after the age of despair didn't conducive to Souda's ambitious plans. Hiding from the patrols searching for Enoshima Junko's supporters, making the ruined tourist resort possible for living and dealing with memories of the demons which once they had been left no room for romance. Later, Souda was repeating. Soon. A bit more. One day for sure.

Believing that another grain of sand in the hourglass of passing time was enough to put things together and make Sonia return those feelings which Souda has been holding since the first day of school became a comfortable habit Souda cultivated, so he could put the truth aside. Because somewhere in his heart he knew, even if he didn't understand yet.

Later Makoto Naegi used the complicated net of his acquaintance and with some help from the Future Foundation, authority of the Togami family and taking advantage of his surname, after the murderous reality-show recognized all over the world, he prepared them a place to return. The Hope Peak's Academy.

'Nobody will look near me, right?' Naegi said, showing them a somewhat embarrassed smile, then added, 'Of course, you have to watch out and try not to stand out, but I think everything should be all right.'

The darkest place is under the candlestick, Souda thought with admiration. Naegi was far more thoughtful than it could be judged after his inconspicuous appearance.

The moment of leaving the Jabberwock Island and returning to the bustling streets of Japan was foundation upon which Souda would have build a whole new life, yet he didn't expect that step to bring so many changes and force him to abandon the illusion of the royal romance. The princess returned with her classmates to the Hope Peak's Academy, but unlike them she didn't bother with choosing her own apartment. Instead, she left together with Tanaka and moved to the house of his choice, which resembled the caricature mix of a Doctor Frankenstein's gothic court furnished by third-class horror filmmakers and a farmhouse. It eventually confirmed the rumors of Sonia and Tanaka having evening strolls along the beach together with their hamsters.

Kazuichi Souda wasn't about to mourn and promised that he would survive the loss with a steel heart. With pride. Manly. This, however, didn't exclude self-pity in the comforting privacy of his cluttered garage.

The familiar, metallic weight of a screwdriver lying in his hand was usually reassuring, and focusing on complex meanders hiding inside of electrical devices kept him away from reality. Repairing some exceptionally annoying and stubborn mechanisms could even inspire him to see life decisions in a better light. He missed tinkering so much in the simulation! But now, when everything was fine, he could have this method of soothing nerves in a place that started to hurt after three hours of still sitting on the stool.

'Damn,' he hissed quietly because no creative riposte came to his mind. He pulled the hat over his ears, trying to cover his eyes as well.

Damn it!

At 1 am. - after three hours of working, two coffees and one beer - hitting his head against the wall looked like the best possible idea. The screws, scattered everywhere, hopped up as Souda's forehead experienced a close meeting with the table surface. He sighed. Since he was in such a stupid position, he might as well rest his eyes. He was too tired.

Souda was dreaming about a rock band of four mechanics who played Avril Lavigne's songs on drills and pneumatic hammers. Being still wrapped in sleep's sweet embrace, he thought that such musical experiments were quite interesting and if the untypical band would ever release a CD, he could come over for an autograph. Then Souda felt the harsh touch of the table on his cheek and the choking smell left by the metal saw, but the rumble didn't stop. No, it wasn't a dream, Souda realized, leaping up quickly. He needed another moment to know that his imaginary musicians weren't playing a cover of Grilfriend, but rather someone was knocking on the garage door with enormous enthusiasm.

'Kazuichi-chan? Kaaa-zuuu-ichi-chan!'

'I'm going, I'm going!' Souda answered, walking in the opposite direction. No... he was in the garage, not at home. Another door.

He had to be very sleepy if he didn't immediately recognize the ringing voice that managed to pierce through the fairly soundproof garage walls.

Souda grabbed the pilot and before the automatic door reached the top, he saw a silhouette that couldn't be mistaken with anyone even among the darkness of the night. Ibuki the working woman Mioda looked just like in the high school, what meant combining elements of the dress code with her own flashy style. Today she was wearing a woman's dress suit and a white blouse, enriched by the boots with spikes and striped knee socks. The chain necklace was swaying on her neck and the earrings ringed in her ears. At least the shoes color matched the skirt, Souda thought. Ibuki was still combing her hair in a "lightning struck the cornfield" way, though now she gave up the lacquered horns in favor of a three-colored braid.

'Kazuichi-chan,' Ibuki drawled, glancing at him from under the black lashes, 'Ibuki called you and called, the door bell almost burned, and you didn't answer. You bailed on me?'

Souda was glad that Ibuki has abandoned her earlier habit of breaking the lock whenever the other person didn't open at once, but the new method of pressing the doorbell until the nearest neighbor didn't call the police wasn't much better for her friends. The mechanic blinked, trying to shed last signs of sleep settling on his eyelids.

'I've dozed in the garage, all right? I didn't hear you...'

'Cool! You know, Kazuichi-chan, it's like a secret base or something. A lab, with super-mega-long-range weapons!'

'Stop being so loud, neighbors are sleeping!'

And as if a special switch responsible for making connections clicked, Souda thought about something that should be obvious from the beginning. He looked at Ibuki, then at the dark streets with a single blinking lamp and the sky, covered with the stars much less visible than from the Jabberwock beach.

'Mioda,' he began slowly, 'what time is it?'

Ibuki didn't reply immediately. Instead, she put her index fingers to the temples and closed her eyes with a meditative expression.

'When Ibuki left the house, it was 2.15 am. Ibuki is sure because the night rock broadcast just ended. Ibuki ran really fast, but stopped in the park and on the playground...'

'You're crazy! It's the middle of the night!'

'That's it!' Ibuki prattled, "It's late and twinkle-twinkle-little-star, all services go to sleep! Ibuki played the guitar when something cracked and BUM!" Ibuki waved her hands so Souda stepped back to avoid a possible blow.

'Whaaat?'

'Amplifiers don't work.'

She moved and pointed to something. Souda had to strain his eyes to see what the girl was trying to show him in the murky shade of the bulb. It was only now that he noticed a brown bag lying next to her leg. Looking at its impressive size, it could hide a medium animal and a supply of its food.

The reason why Ibuki Mioda woke him up around three o'clock at night became clear.

'It's not an excuse!' Souda shouted in response, probably being as loud as the girl standing in front of him, 'You've brought the speakers!? Couldn't you wait till the morning!?'

'The amplifiers,' Ibuki corrected him, 'besides, night playing is the coolest! Try with me and Hajime-chan. It's so quiet, calm, Ibuki hears every beat!'

'Hinata plays with you... No, never mind! Do you have to play at night?'

Ibuki nodded cheerfully and not waiting for an invitation, pushed Souda off and pulled the bag behind.

Souda's neighbors would probably hate him tonight, but at least this sacrifice could provide Ibuki's new neighbors one night of peace.

'Wait. Come to my home,' Souda said, taking a toolbox.

Souda worked in the garage so often that his workspace resembled a house much more than the place where he theoretically lived. However, even a mechanic who much rather wore a working suit than a shirt didn't greet a guest in a cluttered cubicle, so dirty that one could write on dust. Souda had changed the garage into the scenery after the detonation of a nuclear bomb, he would have to clean up anyway. Inviting Ibuki to his proper home seemed to be just right.

'Thank you!' Ibuki shouted and before Souda reacted, embraced him. Souda almost stumbled.

'Okay, okay,' he said, fixing his goggles, 'It's not a big deal.'

Checking the old amplifiers was truly nothing for Kazuichi Souda, but Ibuki was too delighted that he helped her to refuse now. He was soft.

Ibuki insisted on testing the electric guitar amplifiers by plugging them to the CD player and turning the music on. Taking into account the impact power of the said amplifiers, it was a very bad idea. Souda tried to talk some sense into Ibuki but the girl was chattering like a hurdy-gurdy and before Souda blinked, with sweat on his forehead he was watching Ibuki connecting the cords. When she pressed the START button, he took a deep breath. One, two... nothing happened. Souda opened his eyes. To his unspeakable relief, the amplifiers proved to be really broken and the speakers played only honey silence.

'Listen to me, Mioda. Find something to do and I'll try to fix them as soon as possible.'

'Roger!' Ibuki replied, saluting.

The girl turned around on her heel and left the room. Seeing her back disappearing in the corridor, Souda felt a light twitch. It was unexpected yet there was excitement slowly growing inside of him. Taking apart things he found in his house and whose internal scheme he could sketch from memory wasn't a big challenge for the Ultimate Mechanic. Now, with enthusiastic Ibuki looking at him working as carefully as if she managed to sneaked into the magic show and making cheerful sighs, Souda was motivated to prove that he hadn't won the title on vacation.

'Yush, here we go!'

It reminded him of times when he had been helping the old man with his shop and repaired bicycles entrusted to him by the local poor kids. Someone needed his talent, someone counted on him.

Souda smiled. Getting up early wasn't so bad.

A very simple statement could fully describe Ibuki Mioda: she was like a spinning top and something as simple as staying in one place for too long turned out to be a great feat for her.

When she came back to the room, first Ibuki crossed the legs on the floor and every now and then distracted Souda, asking a bunch of questions sometimes related to his repairs, sometimes not. All the time she was tapping on the floor panels and four o'clock the girl moved to the couch and now was kicking the air while lying on her back, muttering something silently or humming like a bored child waiting for a doctor's appointment. Souda tried to ignore it, but the impenetrable singing didn't help in working with small elements.

'Mioda, you're annoying,' he hissed.

'I'm hungry. It's breaking my stomach!'

'The kitchen is over there, if you're starving then get up and make something for us both,' he answered, and without looking away from the cables pointed to the door.

Ibuki stopped; she froze in a candle-like position, then abruptly straightened up. Souda shuddered, almost dropping the wrench he just picked up.

'What?'

She looked at him with eyes wide open, and the light of the desk lamp which Souda had put beside on the ground to see the insides of the amplifiers better reflected in her black pupils. Involuntarily, he gulped louder than intended. It was just an innocent joke, now Souda was worried. Did it offend her?

'Really?'

'Eeee...' Souda just blurted, 'That kitchen is out there? Yes? Yes!'

'YOOOO-HUUU!'

A dog from a nearby garden started to bark to the sound of a high-pitched scream, sang through the diaphragm.

Ibuki slipped on the floorboard through the labyrinth of screwdrivers and screws, leaving behind a bright streak.

'Watch out!'

'Ibuki loves to cook! It's totally the best...' Ibuki shouted and added in a conspiratorial whisper, 'wait till you try my cookies! Even their design is mine.'

She winked at him with a smile.

'Seriously?'

Souda wanted to hide his surprise but nonetheless raised his eyebrows; the tattooed musician with colorful hair didn't look like a person passionate about cooking. On the other hand, she often sat in the canteen, eating cookies and drinking tea. He just assumed she was taking cookies from the supermarket or swindled them from Hanamura. Now he learned she could bake herself…

Well, she also sewed her clothes and made her hair. Maybe baking wasn't that surprising.

Letting Ibuki to temporarily become the ruler of the kitchen country was a far better idea than Souda expected. Even ordinary amplifiers required minimum concentration and that was difficult with Ibuki playing alongside. Now complete silence covered the house like a featherbed. Souda couldn't believe that a phenomenon as abstract as quiet Ibuki was indeed possible, and yet the girl only tapped with plates, creaked with the kitchen cabinets or clanged with cutlery. The loudest sound coming from behind the closed door was buzzing of the mixer.

'Kazuichi-chan, if Ibuki sets the oven, will it explode?'

'You can use it, don't you worry. I haven't tweaked it yet. Yet.'

'Okkiii~'

He snorted and put down the pliers. Listening to Ibuki bustling gaily made Souda realize how much he missed it. On the Jabberwock Island each member had their own cottage and gaining a brief moment of privacy was rather simple, but the sixteen students still shared their daily lives. Together they had been eating and drinking, planning and building, comforting each other and playing together when their whole world was limited to the abandoned island. Opening the window had been enough to come across a friend. Now the ordinary life separated them, and loneliness weighed a lot more than Souda was ready to admit. Singing Ibuki filled the empty corners of his home with new air.

Kazuichi Souda discovered also something new, even though earlier he had been living with Ibuki Mioda for months - their musician had a beautiful voice. Considering the talent which allowed her to enter the Hope Peak's Academy, his observation was fairy stupid and once again Souda played a top fool, but so far he wasn't even sure how Ibuki really sang like.

Really was a key word here; their singer was known form rather odd musical taste and arrangements of songs resembling sounds of an angry road roller, so listening to her performances required strength and exceptionally healthy ears. Now, without a microphone, amplifiers, her electric guitar and strange lyrics, Ibuki sounded quite different.

She probably chose a song from when she had played in a girls band, or maybe even older. In contrast to what she liked the most, now Ibuki's singing had a soft and pleasant rhythm of a fluttering butterfly. It was similar to melodies played by music boxes or lullabies Souda remembered from his childhood - Ibuki was jumping between the lower and upper tones with grace of a dancer, wrapping the song in sleepy softness, and at one point carried a note so high and so clear that Souda whistled with admiration. For the first time he truly appreciated being able to listen to her.

He stood up and headed to the kitchen. On the threshold Souda hesitated; maybe Ibuki didn't know the door was thin and he could hear her? Would she feel ashamed?

Whatever. It was his home. Besides, it was hard to believe that from all the things, singing could intimidate Ibuki.

Souda was stepping into the room with an optimistic attitude that wandered off in a moment. His heart stopped as he needed few seconds to analyze the image which appeared before his eyes and compare it with the memory of the kitchen he held in his mind. The difference was overwhelming. Ibuki Mioda changed everything around her into a real battlefield; the whole piles of dirty dishes, looking rather like leftovers after a big wedding than a meal for two, piled up in the sink and on the table. The raw dough was splattered all over his once clean walls and was still dripping from the mixer, getting the cabinets dirty and creating a small puddle on the floor. Ibuki left the ingredients - opened milk, flour, eggshells - scattered on every free piece of space. Throughout the mess was standing the culprit, removing something from the oven. She took off her jacket and tied it around her waist like an apron.

'What's going on here?' Souda blurted, 'WHAT ARE YOU DOING, MIODA?!'

'Oh, Kazuichi-chan! Just in time.' Ibuki clapped her hands, almost dropping the hot oven plate on her feet. She didn't seem to be particularly affected by Souda's anger.

'Wait, wait. What did you do to my kitchen?'

Ibuki shrugged.

'Come on, it's gonna be cleaned up!'

'It?'

'We're gonna...'

'Why WE?'

Souda didn't receive the answer because Ibuki jumped up to him in three steps, stood on her toes and put the plate filled with cookies just under his nose. They smelled nice, like sweets and cinnamon, but Souda pushed the plate aside. He tried to catch Ibuki's gaze.

'Do you understand how long it's gonna take before we tidy it all?'

'Kazuichi-chan is a bore-to-the-core.' Ibuki pouted and tilted her head lightly. 'At least try the Ibu-cake. Ibuki always wanted to bake it.'

'Listen to me, girl! What's so special about those cookies, anyway?'

He shouldn't ask. If he has already sharpened his teeth, at least he could use them in a practical way and learn how to bite his tongue at the right moment. As soon as the words left Souda's mouth, he understood what Ibuki was referring to. The cookies themselves seemed to be simple pastries, the important detail was their... specific shape. A very specific shape.

'Mioda, it can't be...'

Souda didn't keep in the kitchen any baking accessories, so Ibuki had to form the cookies herself or used a simple glass, yet she managed to create almost perfectly round shape. Each plump bun was connected with another, creating a pair. In the middle Ibuki painted frosted circles, and inside each placed one pink decorative candy. Everything was stacked on the plate like a pyramid.

He opened his mouth wider.

'Ibuki always dreamed about baking cookies in the shape of her boobs!'

Souda felt a nasty, wide, neon pink blush from his cheeks reaching for the neck.

'I won't eat it!' he exclaimed, stepping back.

'Let's see ~'

Souda and Ibuki must have looked like characters from a bad sitcom broadcast on an old comedy channel; he was running, awkwardly balancing between the bowls left here and there and avoiding the sharp table edges, while Ibuki was at his heels, holding one of the cookies in her hand. Hinata once mentioned that jogging with Mioda felt like pulling the lungs out of the chest, but back then Souda had been stupid and hadn't believed. Now he was forced to agree with Hinata. For a moment Souda managed to keep a distance, then Ibuki caught his hand and before he knew, put a small piece of the cookie in his mouth.

'It's good, right?'

'No! Yes! I mean... now I feel stupid!' Souda screamed, as red as hair of a tanned model from the hair dye package.

Ibuki tried to feed him with another one, however Souda dodged and found himself on the table. Suddenly, the ground shook. He lost his balance and although he reached out dramatically, Souda landed on the floor. Ibuki, who was almost able to stop, stumbled and fell on him, screaming. He also screamed, though rather because of Mioda knocking him with her knee. The bowl standing on the table, still dirty with flour, fell on her, then hit Souda in the head.

'Aaah...' Souda groaned, 'See? Are you OK?'

The thought that next appeared in his mind was fast but also very simple and clear: oh fuck.

Ibuki moved up and rubbed her stomach, wincing. Souda was about to say that he should be the one to complain, but fell silent and blinked with surprise. In the eyes of the girl who just now was full of fresh energy flashed tears. He wanted to believe that it was an optical illusion, but his hopes were short-lived like a soap-bubble. Tears are tears, no matter how you look at them.

'Listen, I'm sorry...'

During the moment of tension Souda was coming up with all possible excuses. Then Ibuki burst out laughing. She laughed and laughed, wiping tears from her cheeks and barely catching air, and the singing sounds of her giggle filled the kitchen, then moved on, getting to the living room, echoing in his bedroom, resounding in the garden. The walls trembled, swollen from her gaiety, and the air vibrated, trying to keep up with the notes of laughter. It was contagious. Watching her, Souda couldn't help himself and smiled, then snorted, and laughed; they were both lying on their backs, rolling and barely breathing.

Calming down a little, Ibuki lifted on her elbows and looked at him.

'See, Kazuichi-chan? You finally smiled.'

'What?' Souda answered with a question.

'Since Sonia-chan moved to Gundham-chan, Kazuichi-chan was acting off like a zombie!' Ibuki knelt and put the tongue out to illustrate her words. 'Now you're finally laughing! Ibuki is happy!'

And she was, Souda noticed this sincerity. Ibuki's eyes sparkled as if they were on fire, lips stretched in a smile even brighter than before.

There were many things that waited to be said, so Souda hid under his hat again. Could it be the real reason? Ibuki Mioda was a strange girl – eccentric and loud, holding the heart in her hand yet still hiding it, easy to read and incomprehensible. She showed herself but saw only others and more than ever Souda knew that she lived for anyone but her own feelings.

Coming to his house like a torpedo in the middle of the night, admiring his work, singing, even baking those silly cookies! All for that, all for him?

'You know, Kazuichi-chan…' Ibuki sighed. Just a moment ago gleeful, now showed unexpected seriousness. 'Ibuki doesn't like difficult things, but... when Ibuki left the band, she felt a little lonely.'

Souda was so used to Ibuki being with them that sometimes he could forget how she was kicked out from her first band. It made him a little ashamed.

She looked up. 'Playing alone... is sad. And boring. But Ibuki has found you, guys, and knows that even while planning the solo career, Ibuki doesn't play alone. We will be with you, Kazuichi-chan. It's empty at first but you're never alone. Even if no one is around now, there is always someone, somewhere. This is what Ibuki believes in. So don't give up. There is too much to achieve.'

'I...' Souda started and the words hung in the air. He planned to say something big but the right sentences were too far away from him.

Then he realized something. It was a small thing, almost invisible, but… Since Ibuki came to him, Souda wasn't thinking about Sonia. Till now he was troubling himself with assumptions, and imaginations, and possibilities. Three hours have passed and for the first time he was doing his job without reflecting on what the princess could be thinking.

Thank you, he wanted to say.

'I forgot to say, but you sing nicely, Mioda,' he said.

Ibuki smiled.

'Kazuichi-chan wants a karaoke competition?'

'Why not?'

Neighbors would hate him anyway. He might as well enjoy himself.