Connection Nine: Setup


"Why did you two have to do this?"

Ayumi didn't know what to think about Chihiro and Keima aside from this: they're both idiots. If only Ayumi knew that things would come at a head in such a way, then maybe she wouldn't have forced them to kiss and make up in the 2-B classroom that day.

Welp, it was too late now; they were going to go through with this stupid bet, and if Chihiro was right, Keima was actually trying to win it. One side of Ayumi felt somewhat glad that the bet was really making Keima go out there, do new things, and meet new people - much better than playing his games all day. Yes, she was glad, yet there was an ominous feeling she had deep in the pit of her stomach at the thought of Keima holding another girl's hand, smiling at another girl's antics, tying another girl's hair up, kissing another girl's lips-

Bad thoughts, Ayumi. Bad thoughts!

In an effort to distract herself from the gut-wrenching ideas, Ayumi took a sip of her coffee and grimaced. She didn't really like coffee much. Because of her training and diet, she could only drink jet black brew since it had almost zero calories. The tradeoff was that it tasted like muddy water. She had no choice though; what else would she buy at a coffee shop and not stand out.

"Hey, it's not like I knew he was going to take the bet seriously," Chihiro argued, crossing her arms. "Besides, I told him that you two are off limits, so you should be fine."

"That's not the point-"

"Girls, I only have an hour left till my cram school," Miyako interjected. "If we want any progress to get made, then we have to get started now."

Ayumi relented, saying, "Well, can't do anything about the bet now. What do you have in mind, Chihiro?"

"Hmm," Chihiro hummed, bringing her hand to her chin, "I'd like to start by getting closer to Yuuta, and I'll need a wingman for that."

"What does a 'wingman' have to do?" asked Ayumi.

"Well according to this-" Chihiro reached into her bag, pulling out a teen's magazine, "-I'll need to get him to notice me. Basically, a wingman will help set up a situation where I get to interact with Yuuta."

"I'll do it," Miyako said. Ayumi could see a glint in her eye. Was this the birth of a resourceful general?

"And what will you have me do?" the short haired runner asked.

"I want you to be my spy," Chihiro said. "You're already close to Otamega, so he wouldn't suspect that you're gathering intel for me. Also, while I don't really think Otamega's capable of getting a date, in the unlikely case that he is, I need you to sabotage it."

Internally, the runner winced. She had a bad feeling that this bet was only going to make the rift between Chihiro and Keima bigger. No matter who won, Ayumi would lose. She also knew, deep in her heart, that Keima was definitely able to land a date. If he was able to influence people to the extent that he influenced Shiori, then for sure, he'd be able to convince someone to go out with him. She wasn't looking forward to the confrontation when that happened.

Ayumi took a sip of her brew.

"I-I'll do it."

She felt a bitter taste in her mouth, and it wasn't from the coffee.


"I still don't know how you managed to persuade me yesterday into pursuing this 'line of attack', Katsuragi," Kusunoki grumbled, making sure her pleasure was unknown to the person in her company. "Why should I even consider finding the strength in cute things anyway?"

The martial artist stared daggers his way as she tugged on her brown skirt, trying futilely to bring the hem below her knees. She despised her outfit. She could feel the breeze caress her legs, the sun beat down on her skin. The fabric of her pink blouse was soft and thin; unlike her gi, the blouse would rip in half if she were to get into a serious fight. She felt exposed, defenseless - weak.

And yet, she felt… weird. She'd have to be held at gunpoint to even consider admitting to Keima that the outfit he picked out for her was, well, appealing to the eye - to her, at least. She was sure that others wouldn't be able to stand the sight of her. She didn't have to wrap her chest with gauze, so the pressure she normally felt was relieved, allowing her to relax slightly.

She wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

That aside, she was feeling something while wearing this unnatural outfit. She felt the same foreign warmth course through her when she was cuddling with that cat. She also felt it while looking at-

Keima replied, "It's called a 'date', Kusunoki, and there are limits to physical strength, limits that I think you are close to reaching. Once you hit those limits, you will have to find strength in other things - in other people."

"Tsk," the martial artist whined, letting go of the hem of her skirt out of frustration, "and why did you have me put on this attire? The school uniform would be better suited for me; this skirt is unfit. It's embarrassing! I feel like everyone's eyes are all on me, laughing away to my detriment."

"They're looking at you because you're cute, Kusunoki," replied Keima, turning towards his attractive upperclassman while flashing her what was supposed to be a charismatic smile.

All Kusunoki saw was a smug shit-eating grin.

"Don't say random things with such reckless abandon!" said Kusunoki, throwing a controlled punch at the nerd. Wide-eyed, Keima couldn't do anything but throw up his arms in a desperate attempt at a defense. As he saw her hand dart towards him, the bespectacled boy expected to be thrown back a few kilometers from the force. Her fist connected with his crossed forearms. Surprisingly, Keima managed to keep himself standing, only skidding backwards a few meters.

Keima has seen Kusunoki practice. The pile of punctured boxing bags and Keima's firsthand experience are evidence that her strikes held some lethality to them. The one she threw at Keima, however, seemed to lack that deadly force. She was blushing too, looking away from him with her arms behind her back. Was she finally showing her ability to hold back, or was it something else?

Kusunoki was having an internal struggle. J-just what was that boy thinking? Throwing compliments her way and all that. However, his words rung true, and looking back on it, his smile was so warm and real. Once again, she felt exposed, tugging on the hem of her skirt in an effort to feel an ounce of protection. With just a smile and a statement, she was instantly disarmed. Her mental faculties had shut down, overheating.

That was scary for the martial artist, being robbed of a clear mind. You wouldn't be able to read the opponent's movements or plan out a line of attack if her thoughts were all muddled into goo.

Strangely enough, she also felt… empowered, for some reason. As a martial artist, Kusunoki never paid much attention to her outer appearance. Because of that negligence, she felt inadequate in terms of looks. She stood at a tall and lanky 5'9" - towering even over the average Japanese man. Her muscles probably made her arms and legs look grotesque.

She also never really liked her hair or her chest: things that were apparently attractive features. They just got in the way; tournaments required her hair to be tied up, while her back would kill her if she didn't wrap up her torso. While she liked her body for its strength, she wasn't fond of how it looked, so hearing such genuine words from a… cute guy strengthened her in a different way from what she was used to.

She wasn't sure if she liked the feeling yet...

Noticing that the flushed girl grew silent, Keima offered, "So where would you like to go?"

...but if she wanted to find out...

"A-ah," Kusunoki replied, happy that Keima hadn't noticed her mental monologue, "there's this store that I'd like to visit."

...then she'd have to take this "date" seriously.

"Lead the way, Kusunoki."


"Are you sure that you can't tell me what you have in store, Miyako?"

Chihiro swished around the tea in her cup as Miyako peeked her head out the door, checking to see if Yuuta was nearby. The girl saw her reflection in the water; normal complexion, average hair, decent eyes - everything about her was simply on par and dim. She saw her mouth dip into a frown. Maybe, just maybe, if she were to get together with Yuuta, then she'd shine as brightly as he does.

"Of course! You should trust your friend, Chihiro. No pressure, by the way," the runner said, patting Chihiro on the back and applying more metaphorical pressure onto Chihiro's shoulders. Her hands were trembling; she could see ripples form on the tea's surface. Oh, Chihiro wasn't feeling it. Maybe she should back out while she could.

"I'm not so sure about this anymore, Miyak-"

"There he is! Go!" Miyako interjected, unceremoniously shoving the poor girl hurtling towards the boy. Chihiro felt her shoulder bump against Yuuta, and she could only watch helplessly as the liquid spilled out and plattered all over the handsome student's uniform, dying his cravat a nice shade of pee yellow.

"Oi, watch where you're going!"

"I am, like, so sorry!" Chihiro exclaimed. Oh boy oh boy oh boy, what was she going to do? She completely ruined his cravat! He definitely wasn't going to like her now.

"I-it's fine," Yuuta said, looking at the damage the normal girl caused. "I'm gonna have to get this dry cleaned, though."

Something sparked in Chihiro's head. She remembered what the long-haired runner told her during recess earlier: "Hey, I know this is kinda random, but our shop has a promo for the week; the first article of clothing someone has dry cleaned is free!" Now she knew why Miyako mentioned that. She could take Yuuta to Terada's Dry Cleaning, and since it's free, he'd probably take the offer. That would guarantee her at least half an hour of conversation with him! She'd never doubt Miyako ever again!

"Hey, I-I know a place that can dry clean your cravat for free." Pure silence. Chihiro could only hope against hope as Yuuta combed his fingers through his hair, considering her offer. After a few seconds that Chihiro could have sworn was a few centuries, Yuuta smiled.

"I guess I'll take you up on that. My name is Yuuta."

"C-Chihiro."


When Kusunoki said that she had a place in mind, Keima didn't know what to think. After all, the only place he truly frequented at the shopping district was the games store, and while he'd like to take her there and check out the six new galge out this week, it'd just be a bitter reminder that his PFP was busted. Still, he wasn't surprised to be standing in front of a sports outlet.

While he was wallowing in perfectly masked lethargy, Kusunoki's eyes glinted, apparently excited. She briskly walked into the store, making a beeline for the bin of hand wraps. The martial artist gushed, picking up a roll and wrapping up her knuckles with it. "Cloth hand wraps: interesting. I always buy athletic tape; I wonder what a reusable wrap would be like."

"Hurry, Keima! We should get you one!" Kusunoki said, waving her unwrapped hand and flashing Keima what was supposed to be a cheerful smile.

All Keima saw was a clenched fist and a deceptive smirk.

"W-well this date is for you, so I think we should be getting you things: not vice versa," Keima argued, trying his best to slither away from the unwanted flag. He could suddenly see the route change, and while it would still end up with Kusunoki being more open to others, he could also see her "convincing" him to join the Women's Martial Arts Club, and even though Keima was far from being a woman, the cunning martial artist would, without a doubt, find a way to get him in the club anyway.

"Nonsense." Keima felt a cold hand wrap around his wrist with an iron grip as he was pulled towards Kusunoki. "I'd like you to try it out. It's always good to practice good safety habits, like how people wear helmets when they bike to school."

'I'm not gonna be getting into fistfights on my daily commute to Mai-High,' Keima internally groaned. He couldn't outwardly protest, though, since the whole point of the date - and the project - was to get Kusunoki to find strength in other people. He started with getting her comfortable with cute things, and he hoped he was seeing evidence that she was starting to become less uncomfortable in different social situations too.

Speaking of uncomfortable social situations, the boy's cheeks reddened once the taller girl gingerly took his hand into her own. His breath grew slightly heavier from the death of his personal space. Give it back, Kusunoki; give it back!

"Now," Kusunoki explained, slowly encasing his hand in the thick cloth, "you must remember to anchor your thumb. You don't want it to overextend away from your wrist."

"I-I see." Did she not notice how close she was to him? The close proximity was killing him! He could feel himself becoming ensnared, almost like how his hand was being enveloped in the suffocating fabric.

Finally, after an eternity, Kusunoki let go and took a step back, admiring her handiwork, oblivious to the blush on both of their cheeks. "Yes, this is rather good wrap, don't you think?"

"...Yes."

Kusunoki smiled warmly. "Great."


'Welp, there goes my 200 yen,' Keima groaned, looking at his slowly shrinking wallet. While he was prepared to spend a significant amount of money on Kusunoki, it was a different feeling actually seeing the money fly out of his pocket. Oh well, it was less than a twentieth of a game; it wouldn't be too missed… right?

Keima looked longingly at the arcade as he and Kusunoki walked by it. He remembered spending a lot of time and a few tokens playing on the arcade machines. While the arcade in front of him probably didn't have any galge, he still had a blast killing time in it. Ah, the good old days before social interactions…

"Eh, you wanna go to the game center?" Kusunoki asked, noticing the boy's lingering gaze. "The machine with the hammer up front looks interesting."

Keima whipped around to see a whack-a-mole machine. It was tropical-themed, complete with palm trees and and lobsters. The highest score was displayed on a scoreboard above the gameplay area, and if Keima were to be honest with himself, the current high score wasn't that impressive: a measly 238 points.

Kusunoki walked over to the machine and read the posted instructions. Running her digits over the handle of the hammer, the warrior commented, "Oh, so the object of this game is to strike creatures that pop out of these holes. A test of dexterity and hand-eye coordination… Keima, don't you play those electronic entertainment systems?"

"Er… yes."

"Then I guess this is the bridge between our interests, huh," Kusunoki said, picking up the hammer in her hand as the machine clanked into life. Keima watched as she elegantly and swiftly fought off the lobsters. Not a single calorie was wasted as she swung from foe to foe, bopping them back into their holes with just the amount of force necessary. Kusunoki looked like she was enjoying herself too, if the focused look on her face wasn't enough of a tell.

NEW HIGH SCORE!

"728 points? Not bad," Keima remarked. Kusunoki wiped her brow, putting down her hammer as she admired her handiwork.

"I guess martial arts prevails today, Keima!" the warrior giggled. Giggled. Keima was slightly surprised at the rate she was embracing her cute, outgoing side.

'Still,' Keima thought as he walked up to the machine, his glasses flaring, 'just because we're on a date doesn't mean I'll let her win for free.'

Kusunoki was beside herself with glee. She was actually having fun. The burden of the Kasuga dojo on her shoulders was always stopping her from enjoying herself. After all, the head of a dojo must maintain an aura of intimidation - fun doesn't necessarily mesh well with that. While her martial prowess didn't suddenly increase from the simple exercise, she found that she felt more stable, more satisfied. It seemed that taking the date seriously was the right idea. Now, just how far should Kusunoki take it?

NEW HIGH SCORE!

'W-what!?' Kusunoki craned her head back towards the machine. She saw the scrawny nerd barely holding up the weighty hammer in his hand, with "999" in red font above his head.

"Well, that's gonna be the high score till they reset it tomorrow," Keima said, not even acknowledging his success. "Time to go, Kusu-"

"No way!" Keima winced. Maybe he took the God of Conquests thing a bit too far...

"I'll keep on playing until I beat you!"


Hello! Just a short filler chapter to ease next chapter's introduction in. Yep; it's very likely that S-san will be introduced next chapter. It'll either be that or another filler chapter - the Bet Arc is just too interesting!

It's been a while since Kanon's introduction, and since no one seemed to notice, I'll bring it up; she's my favorite character. Heh, I even write these chapters while listening to her album Birth. So yeah, I hope I don't seem too biased towards her.

I don't remember the Albatross reference, especially if it was in Chapters 1-4. Year long hiatuses do that to ya.

Btw, I'm super glad that this story is an AU, since any inconsistencies with canon can be forgiven. Gonna be honest; didn't research Shiori's fave books.

Also, I'm ecstatic that more and more people are reviewing the story. Shout outs to Shawn Raven and xelos540 for consistency and giving me something to look forward to everytime I update. I hope you two and the other readers enjoy this rather uneventful chapter.

Poll update: seeing a lot of love for T-san. You guys are gonna be in for a treat. I have something planned, so if you T-san fans like D-san, you won't be too disappointed.

Not sure when the next update's coming. School's creeping up on me (Jan 18 bb), and I'm sure that'll destroy any hope of a steady upload sched. Still, I'll be working on it.

Ja ne.