Connection 12: Crisscrossed
Shiori was tired.
Shiori, reading while lying on her bed, felt rather defeated. She had walked all around the school looking for Keima to no avail, and unlike a certain athlete, Shiori's legs weren't in tip-top shape, so using them to walk around Mai-High's rather expansive campus made them feel like lead by the end of the day. Groaning, the librarian paused her reading session to try massaging her aching calves.
However, the physical pain wasn't nearly as bad as her internal anguish at thinking that she hadn't made any progress towards wooing Keima, especially since the competition seemed so fierce. Shiori saw herself as a plain girl with an unappealing social ineptness. Compared to Ayumi, who was a cute track-and-field star, and Kanon, who was in a different league altogether, Shiori felt she needed to really step up her game if she wanted to end up with the boy she loved; she couldn't afford to waste a single second, which was why she felt so dismayed at the fact that instead of bringing Keima some breakfast the next day, she'd just have to twiddle her thumbs till she could ask where he lived.
"Keima Katsuragi," the bookwork whispered, her cheeks taking a flush. It seemed the honeymoon phase hadn't ended yet. Just thinking about him brought a dumb smile on her face.
An idea struck her. Thanks to social media, finding information about people was easier than ever. She wasn't speaking from experience; while she owned a smartphone and a laptop, they were cold to the touch, often neglected in favor of a comfy book. Maybe it was time to change that.
Picking up her phone, she googled "Keima Katsuragi" with the hope that she'd get a number, an email, or anything, really. First item on the results page wasn't a listing from a social media site, however; it was a website of a café. Curiosity getting the better of her, Shiori tapped the hyperlink. She was taken to a humble website detailing various facts about "Café Grandpa." One thing that interested her was that the café also doubled as the home for the owner Mari Katsuragi, her husband Keiichi, and their son…
"…Keima."
It seemed like she found what she needed.
Mari was drowsy.
Stifling a yawn, Mari Katsuragi walked down the stairs, ready to setup shop for the day. It was rather chilly, and she had a half a mind to go back upstairs and put on more layers. In the end, she decided to just get the kitchen prep over with.
She would have, had she not seen a peculiar sight through the translucent glass of the door. Squinting her eyes, Mari could make out a silhouette trying its best to peer through the glass. The mother of one was on guard. While her old reputation as a gangster usually kept the average thief away from Café Grandpa, every now and then some fool would try and break in. Taking off her glasses and letting her hair down, Mari approached the door with straight shoulders, hoping that she wouldn't have to take out the trash.
What she didn't expect, when she swung open the door, was a small girl in Mai-High clothing clutching a bento box to her chest. She was wide eyed, obviously spooked out of her wits, almost dropping the box she had been clutching so tightly.
Not expecting a customer to pop up three hours before opening time, Mari quickly redid her hair and put on her glasses. "Hello there. I'm afraid we aren't open, so I can't serve you anything yet. Is there anything else you need?"
"O-oh no, I'm not here for the coffee," the girl clarified. "I'm f-friends with Keima, and I made breakfast earlier."
"E-eeeh!?" Mari's jaw dropped. While she loved her brilliant son, and she wouldn't trade him for anyone else, she didn't exactly have a high opinion on his socialization skills. After all, for as long as she had known him, he was glued to the screen of his PFP, and he had never brought home a friend from school. The closest thing he had to a friend, to her knowledge, was a girl named Tenri, though she moved away a long time ago. Now, that number suddenly doubled over night, and this new friend just happened to be a cute girl too. Oh, Mari could just picture the grandchildren-
Mari was brought out of her reverie by the girl's shivers. Swinging open the door, the mother led the girl into the store saying, "Oh, sorry for zoning out; I was just so surprised to learn that Keima had actual friends. I didn't mean to leave you out in the cold."
"It's nice to meet you," Mari greeted. "I'm Mari Katsuragi."
"Shiori Shiomiya," the girl replied, taking a seat on the bar seat. She had to admit that the café looked rather chic. It seemed like it would have been a nice place to relax with a nice book in hand. A shame it was a train station away. "This is a nice place you have, Mrs. Katsuragi."
"Oh Shiori, my dear, please call me Mari. 'Mrs. Katsuragi' makes me feel old," the older woman said, smiling. The smile disappeared, however, when she thought of the boy sleeping upstairs. Did that son of hers even know what he was missing? Here was a cute girl who must have gotten up at five o' clock at the very least to be able to change, cook whatever was in the bento, and commute over to where Keima lived, and he was being busy sleeping in. She had half a mind to walk upstairs and drag him down for Shiori.
"Is Keima awake yet, Mrs. Ka- I mean Mari? I-I'm rather anxious to get this into his hands," Shiori said, placing the bento down on the bar in front of her.
Mari, looking at the wall clock as she walked off to the kitchen, said, "He should be down in half an hour. That should give us a bit of time to plate your dish, right? What have you made for my favorite son of mine?"
"Oh, um, I just started cooking a few days ago, so I stuck with something simple: omurice," the librarian replied, popping off the lid of her bento box as Mari returned with a bowl. Holding the bowl in her hand, Shiori was surprised at how cute it looked. Well, she was in a café, after all, so it wouldn't be too out of place; although, why did you need bowls in a café? Weren't mugs all you needed-
"It smells delicious, sweetie," Mari said, sitting across from Shiori. While she did want to be friendly with Keima's knew friend, Mari couldn't help but feel the insatiable need to ask her questions. A friend of Keima's was a rare specimen, so Mari wouldn't pass up the chance to learn more about her. "So cooking, huh? Are you part of the cooking club?"
"Ah no, I'm part of the library committee. I love- er, I'm fond of books," Shiori answered, carefully placing her handiwork on the plate in front of her. "I can go a whole day with my head buried in one."
"That reminds me of a certain someone," the wife remarked, looking at the staircase leading up to the bedrooms. "Which reminds me; Are you from 2-B?"
Trying her best to look Keima's mom in the eye, Shiori said, "No, I'm from the classroom next door: 2-C."
"So how did you two meet?"
Mari saw a red hue flare up on Shiori's porcelain cheeks, which she found incredibly irresistible. All she wanted to do was to reach over the table and pinch the life out of the high school girl's cheeks. That was the moment Mari swore to get her and her son wed, even if the wedding had to be held in god damn South America or something.
"K-Keima was the one who brought me out of my shell," Shiori confidently said, shedding her polite smile for one of genuine happiness. Her glee was so contagious that Mari could feel the corners of her mouth move up too. "If it weren't for him, I would have been a shy, stuttering mess. He saved me in my time of need, Mari."
So Keima went from being an antisocial gamer to being a social worker? If Shiori hadn't just given her the equivalent of a maiden's confession, Mari wouldn't have believed it for one second. Now, however, she was going to have a long, hard talk with Keima over what he secrets he had been keeping from his dear old mother.
Reaching out for Shiori's hands and grasping them tightly, Mari pleaded, "Please, marry my son."
Shiori, flush extending to her whole body now, stuttered, "W-WHAT!?"
Keima, just barely out of sight, was a little exasperated, already sweating despite having just taken a bath ten minutes ago. This new event revealed a rather sinister route, one that Keima wasn't fond of going down. He should have seen it coming. Exhibit A: Shiori just happened to be there on the auditorium rooftop to save him when Kanon decided to go to town with him and his PFP. Exhibit B: Shiori suddenly appeared in the morning and is talking to his mom for his hand in marriage, and he was sure he hadn't handed out his home address before.
Were these the signs, not of a quiet intellectual, but of a budding yandere?
Of course not. The bookworm was too meek and delicate to become anything as obsessive as a yandere.
"Y-yes, yes, a million times yes!" Keima could hear Shiori exclaim.
…Or maybe she was.
Ayumi was ecstatic.
Holding a returned test paper in her hands as the bell signaled for recess, Ayumi was absolutely beaming, a smile from cheek to cheek. She did it; she passed Ms. Nikaido's grueling test! She wouldn't have to get forcibly removed from the track-and-field team, which was a huge relief. Now, if only they didn't delegate her to water duty again like last time. Definitely the worst part of track-and-field. She just had to thank Keima for giving her that tutoring lesson. Maybe she could thank him in a… creative way.
A finger on her lips, Ayumi's eyes darted for Keima's seat, only to be greeted by emptiness. The bell had rung not even a moment ago. Weird. She never really thought of him as a fast guy. Heck, he seemed to be dead without his PFP at his side. In fact, she hadn't seen him with his PFP in a while. She wondered what happened.
Pulling out her phone, Ayumi decided to call him. After punching in his number, she held up the phone to her ear. She was greeted by a busy dial tone.
"Mou, what happened to him?"
"Ayumi, how did you do?" Ayumi turned around to face her friends. Miyako had a warm smile on her face, while Chihiro was leafing through her magazine with a grin.
"Got a hundred! Keima is the best tutor I've ever had," beamed Ayumi, holding her perfect paper in front of her awe-struck friends.
"That's great. Heh, maybe you should ask Keima for lessons when you win, Chihiro," the long-haired girl joked, elbowing Chihiro. Chihiro stuck out her tongue in response.
"Very funny, Miyako," the normal girl sarcastically quipped, taking a glance at the red 60 encircled on her test paper. "Well, is he good for anything else, really? I might as well get those easy A's."
'So he hasn't forfeited yet,' Ayumi internally mused, holding back her tongue. Outwardly, Ayumi said, "Speaking of Keima, have you two seen him?"
"Otamega bolted out of here the second the bell rung," Chihiro responded, turning a page. "Maybe he found a date. Oh, who am I kidding? I bet he's ready to wave that white flag as we speak."
Ayumi felt a buzz in her skirt pocket. Sticking her arm in it, Ayumi fished for her phone, which was vibrating. A call? Pulling out the device, the runner looked at the contact displayed on the screen.
"Speak of the devil," Ayumi muttered. On her phone was a candid shot of Keima looking down at his PFP, the sunset giving a picture a warmth that stoked Ayumi's flames. She remembered when she took the picture while he wasn't looking as they walked side by side going home after a long day of school, and she couldn't help but smile fondly in remembrance.
Swiping to accept the call, the runner held the phone up to her ear, asking, "Where are you, Keima? You just disappeared after second period."
"I got something that'll make what I'm about to do less painful. Hand the phone to Chihiro."
"Hmph. If you can say it to Chihiro, you can say it to me too," Ayumi remarked, not even trying to hold back her unbridled jealousy. Maybe this "love" thing was a little too all-consuming.
As Ayumi debated whether throwing herself at her training would make her less obsessive, Keima replied, "Fine. Just tell her to meet me at the rooftop after school. I'll be throwing the bet – and my pride - at your request."
"Aw, you sound so sad," Ayumi joked. Bringing her voice to a whisper, she continued. "Maybe now you'll stop taking dumb bets and kissing other girls."
…Okay, maybe the obsession was getting a tad out of hand.
Chihiro was smug.
Leaning back, the normal girl relished her victory on one of the rooftop benches next to a bush. Keima looked like he'd rather jump in the bush than be around the gloating 2-B girl. Despite his obvious disdain, Chihiro didn't bother hiding even a single percent of her glee.
After all, she did it; with some help from her friends, she won the bet! She didn't even have to break a sweat! Heck, why did she even go out of her way to get Yuuta's number when she knew Keima was just going to surrender anyway? Oh well, the bet was totally worth it either way. She was one step closer to winning her crush over, and she had a new slave to boss around and do busywork for her.
Now, if only they could agree on a duration.
"So, this makes you my errand boy for a year, right?" Chihiro asked, looking at the slave- er, classmate next to her on the rooftop bench. Keima rolled his eyes.
"A day."
"Hm, how about… no. A semester."
"You sure are trying to make the most of this, huh?"
"Of course!" cheered Chihiro. "You don't know good this makes me feel, putting you in your place and all."
Keima rubbed his temples. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but this is worse than I thought. One month."
Chihiro clicked her tongue, wagging a finger in front of the nerd. "I'm not going any lower than a semester, Otamega. If you promise to stop associating yourself with Ayumi, then I'll drop it to a week. Doesn't that sounds nice?"
The whole reason why he was subjecting himself to… her was because of Ayumi, so he shook his head. "Ayumi would run me over if I were to cut ties with her. Whatever, I'll take the semester."
"This is where I'd say 'let's shake on it', but I don't want to get any Otamega germs on me," Chihiro huffed, crossing her arms as she started flipping through her magazine.
Keima, following suit with a PFP instead, responded, "If anything, it's not spread by touch, otherwise Ayumi would have contracted it already."
Chihiro's high spirit suddenly dropped. She realized that the bet wasn't going to keep the nerd away from her best friend, especially since Ayumi was probably the reason why Keima was actually holding himself to the bet. The fact that Ayumi was actually being a good influence on Keima irked the normal girl to no end. It almost implied that Keima was a person capable of change, which didn't really sit well with her. She failed to see anything worth redeeming in the nerd. For his case, he was guilty until proven innocent in her mind.
Oh well. All Chihiro would have to do was make him too busy to infect Ayumi.
Her stomach grumbled. "Otamega, get me-"
Hearing the door to the rooftop open, Chihiro turned towards it and saw the (current) boy of her dreams. Oh, why could Chihiro not resist his devilish looks, his broad shoulders? From the stories she's heard, you could chop carrots on his washboard abs. Oohlala….
Wait, who was that girl with him!?
"You're drooling. Do I have to be your nanny too?"
Oh crap, she forgot she was with Otamega! Grabbing him by the collar, she tossed him into the bush, not guilty at all that she found the thud he made to be quite satisfying. Following up, she ducked behind the bench, straining her eyes in order to make out the features of her boyfriend-snatcher.
Chihiro gulped hard. The girl was gorgeous! Long chocolate-brown hair, fair porcelain skin, tall and poised stature, lithe yet curvy figure – she was every man's dream! Compared to Chihiro's modest stats, the woman before her was a beast! She could only hope to radiate even half the confidence the mystery girl had. Hmm, Chihiro could have sworn she knew the girl, probably from the rumor mill. Her name was on the tip on her tongue. Hmm…
"You mind if we continue talking over dinner? I'm not completely satisfied yet." she heard Yuuta say. Oh, Yuuta, you're taking her out to dinner? You went out with Chihiro just yesterday. Even though it was under the pretense of getting his clothes clean, she asked for his number and got it, so he had to be at least satisfied by their outing. Why was he on the rebound so quickly!?
"Hm, I'm not averse to the idea, but I can't help but feel we could wrap this up right now." She sounded so stoic. Did standing next to Yuuta not ignite the fire in your heart, you drop-dead beauty? Just what kind of standards did this woman have?
"Oh, I insist. You've been too kind; I simply have to repay the favor."
"Very well. Don't disappoint, Mr. Ayasaki." She flashed him a small smile, causing Yuuta to grin broadly.
'That's not fair!' Chihiro internally grumbled. 'You're not allowed to be both hot and cute!'
Once they were walking away, Chihiro popped her head out. Oh, what was she going to do? At this point, she was going to lose Yuuta! Thinking about it, was he really worth the trouble? He was cool and hot and all, but this was asking too much out of her. All she wanted to do was go with the flow, maybe hope that some of that coolness would rub off on her.
Then she turned to her currently-occupied company, who didn't look miffed in the slightest at the fact that he was face first in a bush as long as he got his steady flow of dopamine. Yeah, the effort was going to be worth it if it meant she could show this loser how things were done.
Pulling the nerd out of the shrubbery, Chihiro said, "Alright, slave. First task: we're going to follow those two."
"Huh?" Keima said, lazily moving his gaze onto the couple in question as they started their walk down the stairs. Chihiro's eyebrow raised when the nerd's eyes widened. Pocketing his PFP, he pinched the bridge of his nose, saying, "Oh, you've got to be kidding me. What kind of route is this? Reality is such a shitty game."
Unused to the gamer's lingo, Chihiro asked, "Earth to Otamega; we speak Japanese in this country. Do you happen to speak it? Actually, hold that thought; we're about to lose them."
'I thought we were done with Kusunoki's event,' Keima mentally groaned. 'At least lengthen the gap in between story arcs a bit more, you poorly paced game!'
Kanon was terrified.
Ms. Okada had just told her that the music video they were going to shoot was to be held at a waterpark, atop a stage in the middle of a large pool. The manager could see the anxiety on the idol's face, so she tried her best to calm her down, saying that it'll be a relatively low stress environment and that she could enjoy the place at her leisure during down time.
The problem was that she couldn't enjoy the place because she didn't know how to swim!
Kanon refused to tell her manager that, however. After all, the staff worked so hard on the production of that great looking set, and if they had to compromise in order to deal with her ineptitude, it would result in a worse product: not something you're interested in when you want your message resonating with everyone.
As always, when she felt distressed and couldn't turn to anyone around her, she had one guy on speed dial. Tapping the shortcut on her phone, Kanon patiently waited for the bespectacled man on the other end of the line to pick up.
After what seemed like an eternity of being on hold, Kanon heard that ever-calming voice of his come out of the receiver. "…You need something?"
"Keima, I really need your advice. Can we grab a cup of coffee at our usual place?"
"I'm tied up right now. Can we just talk tomorrow?"
"Hm, but this is way more serious than hair or traffic though," Kanon stated. "Alright, here's a compromise; I'll just go to you and help you out with your thing first. Then we can go back to our place!"
"Wait, wha-" With a click, Kanon hung up. Smiling to herself, she opened the tracking app she installed on her phone just for this specific reason.
Ah, it was a good thing Keima didn't care for his phone as much as his PFP; otherwise, it would have been impossible to plant a bug on it!
"Otamega, stop answering your phone. You're going to compromise the sting," chastised Chihiro, who was squinting her eyes, trying her best to get a good look at what the other couple was doing. Currently, they were at a park bench situated right outside of Uemoto-ya, which just happened to be where Kusunoki and Yuuta were eating their early dinner.
Keima rolled his eyes. All the two others did was make a beeline to the restaurant, and from what few snippets he could hear, their conversation was all awkward small talk; it was an art Kusunoki had yet to master. Faced with insurmountable evidence, Keima concluded, "Like I said earlier, you're overthinking this. Odds are they're just discussing stuff about the club she finally opened to new members."
"Yeah, Yuuta – a guy, mind you – is asking about joining a Women's Martial Arts club. Almost as unbelievable as you kissing a girl."
'Is the Real trying to reuse conversation topics or something? Lay off on the Shiori kiss, please,' Keima internally asked, even though he knew Reality would never give his bug report the time of day.
Another beep came from his pocket. Ignoring the daggers Chihiro glared into his side, Keima placed his PFP gently on his lap and whipped out his phone, Ayumi Takahara emblazoned on his screen. Great, another phone call from another high-maintenance woman. And just when he was beginning to think being with Ayumi was somewhat relaxing-
"Hello?"
"Hey hey hey, Keima! Guess what~"
Well she sounded positively ecstatic. "Yes?"
"I got the part! I'll be representing the school in two weeks!"
"Nice to hear." For the first time in the whole day, Keima genuinely smiled. If he could give Reality one thing, it was that the characters he's met so far tried their god damn best: the only thing he could respect the Real for. On the other hand, it seems Ayumi's route was progressing a little too fast for comfort. First the impromptu pseudo-confession yesterday, now the fact that she told him about the achievement she's most proud of before anyone else? It was concerning to say the least. Hoping to confirm his suspicions, the God of Conquests asked, "Who else have you told?"
"O-oh, uh, you're the only one I've told so far."
Keima gulped. At least she was honest.
"Ah, it feels great not being the water girl this time!" cheered Ayumi, segueing away from the embarrassing fact. "I'll make you proud of me!"
Filled with something he couldn't quite put into words, Keima said, "I know-"
He saw Kusunoki and Yuuta walk out of Uemoto-ya, and instead of turning left to go to the train station or right to go back to school, they walked forward, making their way to where Keima and Chihiro were situated. Goes to show that hiding in plain sight wasn't always the best idea. He hoped Kusunoki wasn't going to beat him too hard for eavesdropping.
He wondered how Chihiro fared at getting caught red handed. Keima looked to his right. The girl with the sharp tongue was stunned, not moving a single inch. That answered him.
Keima told Ayumi, "I have to go. We'll celebrate some other time."
"Oh, a celebration? I'm game for some yakiniku, if you're treating me."
"Wait, wha-"
"It's a date, Keima!"
Click.
Being on the receiving end of yet another hung up call, Keima decided to embrace his fate, making sure to put his PFP in his bag in order to keep it safe from any scuffles. Oh, just spare the PFP, Kusunoki; he just got it from Fujiidera that morning!
He was surprised when the fists never flew.
Yuuta, a large grin on his face, approached the two, saying, "Speak of the devil! Kusunoki here talked a lot about you, Keima. So you're the one who convinced her to open up the club to newbies, right?"
"Yes." Meanwhile, Chihiro was still frozen in place, the shock of getting caught too much for her.
"That's great. I was just asking Kusunoki all about the club. After all, my sister has always wanted to take up martial arts," Yuuta explained, slowly thawing Chihiro out of her stasis. As she started to move, she also got herself noticed by the man she was crushing on. "Wait, is that you, Chihiro? Oh, were we interrupting something?"
"O-of course not, Yuuta!" Chihiro rose to her own defense. "We were just lounging around after school."
"That's a relief." Yuuta turned to the tall woman at his side. "Speaking of relief, you are going to take good care of my sister, right?"
"Like I said five times ago, injuries and martial arts come are joined at the hip. However, half of the current members are trained in first aid, and health insurance is part of the tuition you pay to the Maijima Private High School, so she is quite safe."
'Of course fifty percent of the club members know first aid; there are only two of them! I don't remember bringing out your crafty side,' internally quipped Keima.
"Well, that's the best that I'm going to get, huh? While I don't really feel sure about this, I can't say no to my sister. Thanks for calming me down at least," Yuuta said, rubbing the back of his neck. He turned to the nerd once more, saying, "I think you'll be expecting a club application tomorrow morning."
"Right." Rubbing his temples, Keima decided it was better for his limited sanity to not argue against the secretary position anymore.
Suddenly, the three other gazes were pointed at something behind him. Curiosity getting the better of him, he turned around, face to face with a figure covered head to toe in winter garb. While that day was a bit colder than most, it wasn't even close to cold enough to be wearing a coat and scarf. It was to the point that the clothing made it hard to make out any facial features; all anyone could see were her white complexion, a strand of pink hair, and a pair of deep pink eyes.
"Found you, Keima."
Full AN on my profile.