October

Mitsuru stood next to the black car parked outside of the airport terminal while her driver waited inside.

She glanced down at her watch before she smoothed over the sleeves of her black turtleneck before crossing her arms against her chest. The summer heat was releasing its hold over Paris, and a noticeable chill was beginning to creep over the city. Having arrived several days before her friends, Mitsuru had offered to collect the Ioris from the airport so that the others could rest from their long journeys.

Her friends' busy schedules allowed the group just the long weekend together in Paris. Rather than lament the shortness of their time together, Mitsuru planned on cherishing every moment of her time with the attending members of S.E.E.S.

Even though Mitsuru's anonymous contact had yet to respond to her less than explicit request to meet, it was possible they could reach out at any moment. Mitsuru had prepared herself by using the last several weeks to immerse herself into the files she had lifted from company records. In an attempt to find a starting point to launch her attack, Mitsuru had memorized the faces and names found in the packet of photos. Her training sessions with Morino were resulting in a leaner and stronger frame and she'd kept her endurance up by sparring with some of her most worthy fencing opponents.

She smothered a sigh as she looked down at her watch again.

Mitsuru's readiness for battle made her impatience all the more poignant. She could only hope that her anonymous tipster would invite her into the fold soon.

"Senpai! Over here!"

Mitsuru lifted her head and spotted Iori, waving furiously at her with a wide grin. His long and gangly were tucked around two heavy suitcases and beside him, Chidori wore a simple white summer dress complete with a flowery headband. Mitsuru felt a smile spread across her face as the couple approached and Junpei dropped the bags to give Mitsuru a warm embrace.

Mitsuru returned the hug firmly.

"Man, I'm beat!" Junpei moaned. "I didn't get a wink of sleep on that plane!"

Mitsuru froze as Chidori surprised her with a restrained hug.

Iori's wife had been reticent to join them during their first few trips to Paris, but gradually her recalcitrant nature had thawed. Increasingly, she joined her husband and his friends as they explored Parisian culture, and in recent years she had even began to join Mitsuru and the others as they ventured into art museums while Iori diverted himself with other activities.

"Junpei snored the entire flight."

"Did not!" Iori exclaimed, scandalized.

"The flight attendant had to reseat the person next to you."

Mitsuru smirked as her driver took the Iori's baggage and opened the backseat door for the couple. Junpei guided his wife into the car before gratefully climbing in behind her.

"The others are resting at the flat," said Mitsuru, nodding to her driver as he opened the passenger side door for her.

"I'm sure you'd like to do the same before dinner tonight."


Even without a full cohort, S.E.E.S. reunions were always lively affairs.

When she returned with the Ioris, Mitsuru relished in the jubilant light of her friends as they chattered, laughed, and embraced each other. Aigis handed out individually selected prayer flags from Bhutan while Fuuka immediately found her laptop and began searching for dinner locations.

Mitsuru silently hung back near her balcony, watching the happy expressions on her friend's faces. A part of her ached to share with them the secret trial she faced, but Mitsuru quickly hushed the urge.

They weren't fighting shadows anymore. This time humans were the enemy, and therein a larger threat loomed. Her friends had families, careers, and personal lives now so asking for their help was out of the question. It was Mitsuru who was to blame for what was happening in the Kirijo-funded schools. She would not share this duty, especially when their lives could be put in jeopardy.

"Will someone please make sure Junpei doesn't eat any more les madeleines?" Yukari rolled her eyes as she sat down next to Fuuka on the sofa.

"She's right. You've had plenty, Junpei," Chidori said, removing a box of cookies from Junpei's lap.

"I can't help it!" Junpei wailed. "I dream about those things all year long and when I finally get here I can't control myself!"

Mitsuru smiled wryly at Iori, but said nothing. She could command a board meeting, send her subordinates into a panic with a mere look, and whip entire departments into shape with a two-line email subject, but she still could not get Iori to lower his voice.

"There's a new crêperie nearby," Fuuka said, her fingers dancing over the keyboard of her laptop. "They serve sweet and savory crêpes."

"Let's make Mitsuru-senpai decide," Yukari giggled. "She's going to end up ordering for all of us anyway since none of us speak French."

Mitsuru blushed as all eyes turned to her.

"Actually, I thought we could make dinner here tonight."

Fuuka suddenly looked faint and Mitsuru couldn't contain her laughter.

"Don't worry," she reassured, speaking to Fuuka. "I was only suggesting that I call in my chef. She can make anything we like."

"Pizza!" Junpei said, launching up from his seat. Yukari groaned while Chidori looked on at her husband listlessly.

"We're in Paris. Can we please have something French?" Yukari countered. "Gratin or Pâté?"

"Yuck! I hate that stuff," Junpei shuddered. Chidori made a face that seemed to echo this sentiment.

"I would like pizza as well," Aigis chimed in from the kitchen.

"Traitor!" Yukari gasped, throwing a pillow at the blonde-haired mechanical maiden. Aigis stoically caught it in her arms.

"YES! Ai-Chan with the assist!" Junpei squealed.

"I think I have a solution," Mitsuru said, crossing her arms. "Let's have Tarte Flambée, but I'll request that the chef bake it on a pizza stone. It's French and it's pizza. What do you think?"

The room was silent for a moment before Fuuka came alive with giggling.

"The CEO has spoken," Aigis said calmly.

Mitsuru's flat was filled with laughter.


The dinner, rowdy for Parisian standards, was a complete success.

Afterward, Mitsuru was at the market with Fuuka and Aigis collecting a few household items when she received the text. Aigis was prodding Fuuka to explain the difference between quilted and non-quilted toilet paper as Mitsuru stared at her phone.

Paris is lovely this time of year, yes? Poco Hermasillo has an excellent dessert menu.

A stabbing combination of both dread and relief filled her stomach. At last, someone was contacting her to meet, but Mitsuru still wasn't sure if this person was friend or foe. She might be in over her head.

"Mitsuru-san?" Aigis' concerned voice made Mitsuru jump.

"Y-Yes, what is it?"

The two young women blinked back at her, worried.

"Which do you prefer?" Aigis repeated her question.

"I apologize. Either is fine. Please excuse me," Mitsuru murmured, quickly exiting the store to the sidewalk.

When?

Mitsuru looked up as she felt raindrops fall onto her face. One by one, the pedestrians walking past her began to open their umbrellas. Only a few moments passed before she received a response.

At your leisure. Take the Line 4 metro and disembark at Château Rouge. Come alone. Text this number when you leave and someone will meet you at the station.

The rain began to thicken and Mitsuru eyes became unfocused on the cell phone screen. If she had to confront someone, was she strong enough to take them on by herself? Mitsuru was just see results with Tadao's training. She needed more time to build up her strength.

Would her persona be of help in an attack? Mitsuru didn't need her evoker to summon Artemesia, but Mitsuru was starting to regret not bringing it as a precaution.

Worse than a surprise attack, if something happened to her, her friends might come looking for her and inadvertently make targets of themselves. If Mitsuru was walking into a trap, she was strong enough to at least have a fighting chance, but if her friends followed her. . .

"Something has happened."

Startled, Mitsuru looked up to meet Aigis' piercing blue eyes.

"No, I-" she took a deep breath before slipping her phone back into her purse. "It's nothing. Company business," she said with a tone of finality. Mitsuru offered a smile intended to put Aigis at ease.

Aigis furrowed her eyebrows in response, clearly unconvinced.

"Are you certain everything is all right?"

Mitsuru swallowed with a nod, knowing she appeared just as shaken as she felt.

"Absolutely certain, Aigis. Have you retrieved everything we need?"

Once she returned to the flat with Aigis and Fuuka, Mitsuru bade them goodnight. While her friends slept, Mitsuru stayed awake through the night formulating a plan to cover her trail should something happen. By dawn, she had a bare bones strategy to lead her friends away from danger should the meeting go awry.

Mitsuru would tell the others that she was meeting a business associate in Paris for a last minute dinner, to deal with a sudden and unexpected event. Mitsuru would instruct her driver to take her to a commonly visited upscale dining establishment and, when she dismissed the driver, Mitsuru would go to the nearest metro station. If something happened, the trail would stop at the restaurant, and no one would be put in harm's way.


"Why?" Yukari asked bluntly.

Chidori had just taken their photo before the group had started deliberating on where to eat dinner when Mitsuru issued the lie that she had spent all night formulating. There was probably a better location to deliver it than the Champs-Élysées, but it was starting to get dark.

The others were staring at her, the same question burning in their eyes.

Mitsuru looked on placidly as Yukari stood across from her, arms crossed and eyes narrowed.

"The company has been exploring new partnerships and we've reached a small. . . snag in our acquisition process. I need to regroup with my liasion here. I'm sorry, I was hoping this wouldn't happen."

"Wait a minute. . . are you going on a date?" Yukari asked, eyes wide. Mitsuru blushed furiously at the accusation and the smile dropped from her lips.

"Don't be absurd, Yukari-"

"What's his name?" she giggled playfully. "Oh, please tell me he's tall, dark, and French."

Mitsuru shook her head, eyes modestly glued to the street.

"All right! Senpai's gonna score tonight!" Junpei added, raising his fist to the sky in triumph. Chidori silenced him with a quick pinch to his side.

"I assure you, this is nothing but a working dinner between professionals."

Yukari sighed and Mitsuru caught a glance of suspicion in her friend's gaze before she shrugged.

"If you say so. Hope he takes you somewhere nice, senpai."

Mitsuru nodded absently as she drank in the expressions of each of her friends.

Junpei was hugging Chidori tightly against his chest, his eyes contentedly squinted against the setting sun. Fuuka was smiling encouragingly at her while Yukari's wry expression still held a trace of doubt. Her eyes froze upon Aigis who was fixing her with an indiscernible expression. Mitsuru tried to command the muscles in her back and arms to relax into a easy posture, but the task was too difficult.

She wore a smile instead.

"I'll see you tonight," Mitsuru said confidently as her driver pulled up next to her.


As she sent the text message informing her contact that she was on her way, Mitsuru realized her current attire might draw too much attention in the neighborhood of Château Rouge. She returned to her flat and tried to find something more low-profile to wear before returning to her car and giving her driver directions to a restaurant she frequently visited along the Seine.

Mitsuru watched as her driver disappeared from the vestibule of the restaurant before stepping back outside and securing her hair under a soft, gray beret. She locked her eyes on the entrance to the metro station on the corner and drew a deep, steadying breath.


Part of her was still the naive high school girl who didn't know there was an entire world of eating with one's hands, sitting in movie theaters, and singing karaoke.

After attending school and living in Paris for several years, Mitsuru was embarrassed that this was her first time taking the Paris Metro. What else had she shut out in her life? Was she really that oblivious to events outside of her sphere of influence? Akihiko inevitably crept into her mind, and Mitsuru wondered if he had actually been miserable their entire relationship and she had simply not noticed.

He really was better off without her.

Even though she was disgusted with her own ignorance, Mitsuru decided that she deserved at least some credit for having the sense to return home to change before taking public transit. Right now, her long sleeved black shirt and beige pants helped her blend in fairly well with the throngs of evening commuters.

Mitsuru stepped out of the subway train and moved with the throngs of people toward the exit. As she emerged from the station exit, Mitsuru was overwhelmed with the surge of vendors and customers chattering loudly in almost every language but French. Mitsuru carefully took in the scene of Plastic Eiffel Towers and French flags around her, doing her best to not appear lost.

She had the sudden sensation that she was being watched. Mitsuru turned over her shoulder and looked up sharply to the steely eyes of a man standing just outside of range of the pop-up stands and tables of merchandise.

The man was the size of a small boulder.

He wore a leather jacket and Mitsuru was amused by how impossibly small it looked on him. The soft black hat on his head seemed to absorb the gauzy light from the streetlamps and Mitsuru sensed if he weren't scowling, his face would bear the creases of a permanent frown anyway.

Mitsuru approached him with squared shoulders and noticed the faint blue hue of a Virgin Mary tattoo poking out from the opening of his shirt.

They spent a moment sizing each other up, and just when Mitsuru thought he might say something, he turned away from her and began walking down the sidewalk.

She followed a short distance behind him.


"You're off your patrol route, Sergeant," Kurosawa said as he quietly shut the hospital room door behind him.

"I decided to take an early lunch, sir."

Akihiko didn't slow his brisk approach until Kurosawa sidestepped into his path with a wide stance and crossed arms.

"If I needed you here, Sergeant, you would have been called."

Akihiko balled his fists in response as the adrenaline surged like electricity through his veins. Kurosawa lifted his chin slightly and pinned Akihiko to floor with his stare.

"Take a deep breath before you say anything else to me, Sanada."

Akihiko blanched at Kurosawa's words and severed the intense gaze with his commanding officer with a physical step back. The cooling effect was instantaneous as Akihiko gently shook the excess energy out and let out a silent sigh.

"I'm sorry, Captain. It's just-"

"Don't worry about it, Sanada. We've all been there at one time or another. I just wish you hadn't found out so quickly."

"Noriyama told me they brought in three guys on charges related to kidnapping. It wasn't long before he mentioned that Mitsuru Kirijo was the target," Akihiko exhaled and suddenly grew taut with fear.

"Can I. . ." Akihiko was looking at the door just beyond Kurosawa.

"Question her?" Kurosawa suggested, only half joking.

"If I just had more information, I could-" Akihiko said quickly.

"The answer is no, Sanada, especially since she's just endured that from both myself and the Kirijo Company Board Chair," Kurosawa paused before continuing.

"Like I said: I would have called you if I needed you here. Right now, this one's outside your rank. You're going to have to let it go, Sergeant."

Akihiko let out a low growl in frustration before letting his head fall back against his shoulders.

"Look, Captain - I just," he started, the taste of defeat rancid in his mouth. "Just tell me she's okay and I'll leave."

Something relaxed in Kurosawa's posture, but the senior officer didn't relinquish his position between Akihiko and the door.

"They cornered her pretty quickly, so she had to make a hard turn on her motorcycle. Minor road rash, otherwise fine. No one ever accused you kids of being unlucky," Kurosawa grumbled as he uncrossed his arms and straightened his cap.

"Well, there's that, at least," Akihiko breathed.

Mitsuru was no stranger to getting hurt, but Akihiko was glad to hear it was at least minor and nothing life-threatening. Still there was a spate of questions jamming his thought process. Where had this all happened? What did these men want with Mitsuru? Why hadn't she reached out to him? He'd had to find out from his fellow officers that she was in the hospital.

"When is she being released?"

Kurosawa quirked an eyebrow.

"In about five minutes, I'd say. Once she's finished being lectured by the nurse about getting rid of the motorcycle."

"Boy, I'd love to see that," Akihiko muttered in jest, even though he still wasn't entirely at ease. Kurosawa's lips flickered for a moment before he cleared his throat and stepped past Akihiko.

"Well, since you're taking an early lunch, why don't you make sure she gets home all right? I'm sure she'd appreciate some friendly company after the morning she's had."

"Captain. . ." Akihiko replied, stunned..

"I don't care what your relationship with Mitsuru Kirijo is, Sanada," Kurosawa replied, turning back to face Akihiko expressionlessly. "But do not enter that room as a police officer. Understood?"

Akihiko nodded sternly.

"Yes, sir."

Without another word, Kurosawa left Akihiko standing outside of Mitsuru's hospital room. Once the sound of the Captain's clean and even footsteps had vanished entirely, Akihiko gave himself a moment to silence the barrage of questions forming on the tip of his tongue.

At the door, he could heard the escalated sound of a woman's voice. He knocked gently at the door and, after getting no response, Akihiko slowly twisted the doorknob.

"Do you have any idea how many mangled motorcycle victims pass through those very doors-"

The nurse was pointing directly at Akihiko. He glanced quickly over to Mitsuru and felt a rush of relief fill him as she looked over to him from her seat on the hospital bed. Apart from a few scrapes on her cheek and the obvious fatigue, she appeared fine. Akihiko smiled grimly. Mitsuru Kirijo could wear even minor injuries with grace.

Mitsuru instantly returned his smile, but it was tepid and short-lived. She quickly looked away from him, her cheeks flushing with what Akihiko read as fatigue and embarrassment. After being interrogated and admonished by three different people, Akihiko wondered if Mitsuru thought he was here to do the same.

He felt a flood of shame as recalled his earlier urge to do just that. Back when they were teenagers fighting shadows, Akihiko would have never scolded Mitsuru or try to force information out of her. Scolding had in fact been Mitsuru's expertise when they were in High School, not that Akihiko was ever really bothered by it. For a moment, Akihiko was too stunned by the drastic difference between the man he was now and the cocky (well, cockier) scrap of a kid he used to be, that he scarcely noticed when the nurse turned her sights on him.

"May I help you, Officer?" The nurse demanded.

For a moment, Akihiko couldn't believe that this nurse had the gall to talk to Mitsuru Kirijo with such disregard for Mitsuru's status as an internationally esteemed CEO. Then he remembered his own line of work where there was no such thing as treading lightly with those who skirted disaster. Mitsuru most likely understood that or simply had too much respect for this woman's position to put up much of a fight.

Akihiko looked back to Mitsuru to find her eyes downcast to the floor. The urge to press her with questions about the attempt on her life this morning had completely disappeared. Now, he just wanted to get her out of here.

"Madame President," Akihiko announced robustly, swinging the door open.

"I'm here to escort you home."

Mitsuru looked up, and Akihiko was stung by the sudden relief in her eyes.


December

Even though the number he'd found in Mitsuru's closet had been a dead end, Akihiko had secured the scrap of paper in the pocket of his suit coat. The non-working number had a Parisian area code, so there was no reason not to try the number again once he landed.

Akihiko stared out of the airplane window at the pitch black night sky while the passengers around him dozed. They were only three hours into the flight service, and Akihiko was already stir crazy. He had a headache from reading and re-reading the slips of notebook paper on his tray table and needed more coffee to refocus his efforts.

Chihiro's precise handwritten notes were tidy, but had been written in a panic. Unless he wanted the Kirijo Group tailing him and the others, he'd have to make it work. Accessing the information electronically would only make trouble for Fushimi and Akihiko had to think carefully before setting Yamagishi to the task of hacking into the Kirijo Company's files. They were no doubt watching the surveillance footage in Mitsuru's Parisian home base, but somehow the distance gave Akihiko some small comfort.

His flight finally landed as the sun rose. When he stepped into the frigid winter haze of Paris, Akihiko was so blindsided by fatigue that he nearly clocked Aigis over the head in self-defense when she rushed into him outside the airport terminal.

"I'm so glad you are here," Aigis said, her voice thrumming against Akihiko's skull as she compressed Akihiko into a suffocating hug. "Thank you for coming, Akihiko-san."

Tired, frustrated, and utterly helpless, Akihiko did his best to match the strength of Aigis' embrace.


Walking into Mitsuru's flat in Paris was more unsettling than exploring her abandoned Port Island town home.

To lend to the cutting absence of their senpai, the group was somber and no one was sitting too close to each other. They greeted Akihiko as though he was walking in late to a funeral. The only relief was Iori, who was snoring so loudly on Mitsuru's sofa that Akihiko realized the noisy pipes he thought he had heard on his way in were actually the sounds of jet-lag.

"He's been like that for six hours," Yukari commented mirthlessly as a way of greeting her senpai. The dark circles under her eyes told Akihiko she had probably slept less than that since arriving a week ago. He acknowledged Fuuka with a grunt and immediately noted by her weak smile that she wasn't much better off.

Akihiko looked around at the three women and frowned in disapproval. Before he realized it, he was chastising.

"When was the last time any of you got a decent night's sleep?" Akihiko rasped, eyes narrowing in on Yukari.

Akihiko was ready to take on a few disgruntled comrades, but Yukari's voracious response was practically spring-loaded.

"Oh, I'm sorry, senpai. Were we supposed to be relaxing while waiting for Mitsuru-senpai to turn up dead?"

"Yukari-chan!" Fuuka gasped.

Akihiko gazed down at Yukari wearily as she continued on, his indifferent expression adding oil to her fire. He knew this one had been coming, but he wasn't about to have it out here and now, especially when Yukari had already been pushing herself to the point of exhaustion.

"You know, some of us still care about her," Yukari said venomously. "The rest of us, who stood by Mitsuru-senpai after you left, think she's more important than sleep. She's more important than some job-"

"Yukari-san, please," Aigis pleaded. "You are upset-"

"No, Aigis," Yukari said, her voice climbing toward a shout. She whipped back around to face Akihiko, who didn't overlook the slight wobble in her step. "Unlike you, senpai, I'm not going to just walk away from her because I'm tired or I'm scared-"

"Please stop, Yukari-chan!" Fuuka exclaimed desperately.

"Why the hell are you here any way?" Yukari snapped, getting right into Akihiko's face and jabbing a finger into his chest.

"Don't tell me you're here because you feel guilty. Because if that's the case, you just turn your Lieutenant ass right back around to Japan and help some stranger find their stereo. There's no room for apathetic wannabe heroes here, Akihiko-senpai."

Akihiko blinked calmly down at his trembling friend. One word from him, any word at all, would send her over the edge.

"Are you finished?" He asked softly.

Yukari's features, which had been stretched with anger during her tirade, suddenly dropped. His comment seemed to knock the wind out of her and Akihiko propelled forward steadily.

"I know when you're not thinking straight, and so does everyone else here," Akihiko's eyes flashed to Aigis before he leveled his eyes down at Yukari. She was starting to shake harder now.

"You need to get some sleep or get some sense knocked into you. Which is it going to be?"

Yukari launched herself at Akihiko in response.

Instead of getting a palm print stamped to his cheek, Akihiko was pleasantly surprised when the pint-sized archer threw a mean left uppercut against his chin. Akihiko fell back against the wall with his hands up as Yukari wound up for her follow-up attack, aimed straight for his gut. Aigis appeared suddenly behind Yukari and pulled her off Akihiko. Yukari pivoted on her heel to strike at Aigis, but was cut short when Aigis planted a strategic knock over her head.

Yukari toppled over, unconscious. Aigis and Akihiko both stretched their arms to catch her as she fell and Akihiko managed to get his arms under her first. He lifted her into his arms with a grunt.

"Looks like you got a little bit of both," he commented dryly, raising his eyebrows to Aigis. "Just like old times, huh?"

"It was wrong of her to say such things," Aigis said remorsefully, taking Yukari effortlessly into her arms. Akihiko dropped his hands to his knees, winded. Sparring was one thing, but letting your friends attack without striking back was a whole other exhausting exercise that Akihiko was unaccustomed to.

"Please forgive her, Akihiko-san," Aigis continued, scanning her friend for any abnormalities. "She has been relentless in her search for Mitsuru-san."

Akihiko followed Aigis into one of the guest rooms and rubbed his chin thoughtfully as Aigis gently positioned Yukari on the bed. Through the window, they could see the snow beginning to fall and together they gathered the covers around Yukari.

"Don't worry," Akihiko said softly as he followed Aigis out of the room and gently closed the door behind them. "This sort of thing. . . it affects people differently. She and I are due for a chat anyway. This at least clears the path to a productive conversation."

Aigis nodded and the two returned to the living room.

They returned and saw that Fuuka was still rooted to her place in the kitchen, trembling and on the verge of tears. Akihiko tried to think of way to assuage the situation and made the mistake of thinking he could crack a joke.

"What do you say, Yamagishi?" he said gruffly, holding out his arms. "You want a shot at me, too?"

His attempt at channeling Shinji's deadpan humor fell flat and Fuuka went from being on the verge of tears to being overwhelmed with sobs. Akihiko made a hasty and guilty retreat as Aigis threatened to sequester Fuuka in a similar manner to Yukari, which only intensified Fuuka's crying. Akihiko sank down into an arm chair overlooking the balcony and watched the thickening snow as Aigis corralled Fuuka into her bedroom.

Meanwhile, Junpei Iori emitted another ground-shaking snore from the sofa.


Akihiko set up shop in the living room while his friends slept.

Some years ago, Amada had decided it wasn't enough for him to keep his artistic skills to himself and had bought the game Pictionary for the team to play. The competition during the first game was so fierce, that after some intense arguing about the nature of the 'no talking' rule, the group had spent hours appropriately not speaking to each other, with the general mood particularly sour toward Amada for even introducing the game.

Aigis had finally brought the team together, by painfully introducing a communication exercise she had discovered called the 'peace circle' where they would pass around a 'talking stick' which was really a decorative sword Mitsuru kept over her mantle. Not exactly the best symbol to use when negotiating peace talks.

The first person to use the talking stick was Amada, who apologized profusely for overestimating the artistic talents of his senpai.

His smile had been contagious and the group had broken into laughter and continued their commiseration of their poor drawing skills and terrible ability at following rules over wine and chocolate pastries.

Mitsuru had made a solemn vow to the group that the drawing paper would never again see the light of day.

As Akihiko stared at the large sheets of paper, he couldn't help but smile ironically. One house rule broken, just about a million more to go.

He began to draw an outline of what he knew and combined it as best he could with Fushimi's pandemonious notes. In the center of the sheet of paper, he wrote Mitsuru's name and circled it. Around Mitsuru's name, he carved out several small circles and labeled them: Weight Training, Vacation, Kirijo Company Board, School Files, and Paris.

Akihiko stepped back from the easel and rubbed his eyes. He could use some fresh air. Outside, the snow was finally slowing to a halt and the already dim winter light was fading. Akihiko stepped outside to the balcony and leaned over the rail. Being here was like being trapped in a strange dream. He hadn't exactly been the best about staying in touch with the others after he and Mitsuru had split up. Somewhere in his mind, Akihiko realized he had told himself that the divide was mutual. His friends wouldn't want to be friends with the guy who dumped Mitsuru Kirijo.

It was a comfortable lie he told himself: A lie that made it easier to be apart from his friends because being around the others only reminded him of what he gave up.

"Buy you a drink, senpai?"

Akihiko looked over his shoulder as Yukari pressed a cool protein drink against the crook of his neck. Akihiko chuckled and looked up to her with a faint smile. The dark circles under her eyes seemed fainter, but she was still very pale.

"Thanks," he said, taking the drink and opening it. Yukari found a small stool nearby and pulled it up next to Akihiko's spot against the railing. Even though she was still bundled in the blankets that Akihiko and Aigis and wrapped around her, Akihiko offered her his coat.

"How do you feel?" Akihiko asked, squinting his eyes against the cold as he gingerly sipped his drink.

"Crappy," Yukari responded groggily. "Sorry about. . . well, all of that, senpai. I don't remember much except that I was a real piece of work back there."

"I get it, "Akihiko chuckled.

A momentary pause fell between them.

"You do, don't you?" Yukari said gently. Akihiko turned to her blankly as she smiled.

"This is your life. Helping people. . . using your strength to keep people safe, help them figure things out even when they're total jerks to you. I regret not calling you the second we knew she was missing."

Akihiko made a disgruntled hum in response.

"I know you want answers, Yukari. But you have to understand something about Mitsuru and I-"

"Look, senpai. I know it's none of my business what happened between you guys, but what I want to know why you couldn't at least talk to her. Don't get me wrong - I'm just as pissed off at her for letting you walk out without doing the same. If you were so unhappy, though why was it so hard to just-"

"I wasn't unhappy," Akihiko said sharply. Frustrated, he folded himself on the railing and rested his chin on his arms in silence. If he could just avoid this conversation for just a bit longer.

"So what, then?" Yukari asked softly. "You don't have to answer to me, senpai. But when you find Mitsuru-senpai, you do need to tell her. Promise?"

Akihiko sighed in response and Yukari stood up and nudged Akihiko's calf with her foot.

"Promise me."

"Yeah," Akihiko said, standing up straight. "I will. I promise."

Yukari smiled brightly in response.

"Are we good, senpai?"

Akihiko scoffed gently, crossing his arms.

"We were always good, Yukari."

"Good," Yukari said, stretching. "Let's go inside. Now that we have one of our senpai here, we can figure out what we actually need to do."

Akihiko nodded in agreement when Yukari's face fell suddenly. Akihiko staggered back and had to brace himself against the railing as she grabbed his chin and jerked his face to the side to get a look at the purple bruise blossoming under his stubble.

"Holy crap - Did I do that?"


Iori was still asleep on the sofa, so Akihiko instructed Aigis, Fuuka, and Yukari to re-search the flat. This time, he told them, don't underestimate anything.

"If you think it's important," Akihiko said, holding up the blue scrap of paper he had found in Mitsuru's closet. "It probably is."

They quickly split up and doubled their efforts. Aigis took Mitsuru's bedroom while Yukari and Fuuka searched the rest of the flat. Akihiko continued rummaging through the kitchen drawers and when his search turned up nothing, he went into the living room. After fixing Iori with a judgemental sigh for his catatonic state, Akihiko got on his knees and began combing his hands through the sofa cushions, occasionally rolling Iori around to get to the edges.

His fingers caught the corner of a slip of paper. Quickly, Akihiko pulled it out and immediately noticed the blue shade of the paper. Akihiko settled against the sofa as he compared it to the scrap of paper found in Mitsuru's Port Island loft.

The slip found in Mitsuru's sofa was longer and neatly rolled up while the first was but a scrap torn from a corner, but the two were unquestionably from the same sheet. Akihiko carefully unrolled the second slip and furrowed his eyebrows in consternation upon seeing the delicate cursive script.

C'est pour cela que je suis née

"Aigis," Akihiko called for his friend as he stood up. "I need you."

The group quickly re-assembled in the living room and each of them peered curiously at the paper as Akihiko passed it to Aigis.

"What does it say?" Akihiko asked.

Aigis opened her mouth to reply, when someone else answered Akihiko's question.

"I was born for this."

All eyes turned in sudden alarm to Junpei, who had finally woken up from his snoring stupor on the sofa.

He was propped up on his arm, and Akihiko noticed a small puddle of drool on the cushion where he had been sleeping. Junpei's bleary eyes were locked on the tiny piece of paper in Aigis' hand. Akihiko felt his stomach turn sour as he watched Junpei's mouth form a wide 'o.'

"I. . . think I just remembered something important."