Connection 14: Enter Minami Ikoma

Walking home from the Aoyama's bakery, Keima didn't expect yet another event to occur. However, he probably should have. After all, most games bombard the player with events until a route is fully chosen, and as far as the Otoshigami was concerned, there were no routes to enter nor Heroines to save… though there were signs of a few.

Still, there were too many events for Keima's liking. Trying not to get killed by Ayumi, thinking of where to bring Kusunoki, getting Kanon seaworthy – it was getting a bit too hard to manage, especially since he had to deal with Real parameters, like calories and hygiene. Making the player's stats matter shouldn't be a part of a game: another reason why Reality is a badly designed game. It definitely wasn't recommended for newcomers to the genre.

Oh well, Keima has played bad games before, so he'd smile – cynically – and bear it.

Swinging open the door to Café Grampa, he was met by the sight of Shiori of all people sitting at the table nearest to the door. In her hands was a book with a blank blue cover, and she was so invested in it that she hadn't noticed him yet. Maybe he could sneak past this obvious flag.

The God of Conquests took a deep breath and schooled his features, hoping to become inconspicuous. He walked – not too fast, not too slow – towards the back, only making eye contact with his PFP. With any luck, he'd be able to make it to the "employee's only" staircase and escape to his room unnoticed.

Then he felt a hand on his shoulder. His eyes trailed up the hand gently restraining him. His mother was giving him a bright smile. "Keima, you have a guest. Front of the house, table 1."

"Oh, really? Who is it?" Crap. No sneaking away for him. He forgot his mother could see through his stealth mode.

"Shiori, dearie," Mari said, her smile only growing. "Unless you have other friends you haven't told me about. Oh my, is my son slowly getting popular?"

"Yeah yeah, Mom. I'll just put this away," the boy relented, gesturing to his bag. He was about to leave, but he was stopped by an outstretched hand.

"Leave that to me, sweetie." She snatched the bag and his PFP out of his grasp. Spinning him around, she swung her hip, giving her son a gentle shove towards the librarian. "Go on and have lots of 'fun' with Shiori!"

Grumbling, Keima shoved his hands in his pockets, making his way towards the girl. Now that he wasn't trying to be sneaky, she noticed him. Her head whipped around to face him, and he was almost shocked to a standstill from the look she shot his way.

Unbridled determination.

Sitting down, his appearance only grew more inquisitive. Where had she gotten this passion? She was supposed to keep it locked up in her head; even if the eyes were the windows to the soul, her desire wasn't supposed to show this intensely. He replayed the past few events in his head. She fed him good food. She helped out with the cat. She bore witness to Kanon's rampage.

…Where was the build up? Was Reality really pulling out another invisible flag with him?

Before Keima could delve too deeply into his own thoughts, his attention was called by the girl sitting in front of him. "Katsuragi, we… we need to talk."

"Right." Keima put his elbows on the table, propping up his chin on his hands. He wondered if his more aggressive posture would cow the girl. Unlike a certain runner, the librarian's fire petered slightly, but it wasn't put out.

He saw her take a breath and steel herself. "Why did you kiss me that day?"

Keima froze. That was out of nowhere. He would have expected something about another bento, or maybe even something about Kanon: not that accursed kiss. Then again, this whole event was unexpected. "W-what?"

She broke eye contact. "In the library. The kiss you s-stole from me."

Keima gulped. Following Shiori's lead, he looked to the side. "I-I'm sorry for playing with your feelings, Shiori. I just did it out of impulse. If it makes you feel any better, it was my first kiss."

"N-no fair, it was mine too." Keima turned back to face the girl. Her face looked composed enough, but he could see the way her lips were tightly pursed, the way her fingers rapped on the hard cover of the book in front of her. She had probably known he didn't kiss her out of love for a while, but Keima could guess that it hurt just hearing it.

Eerie silence, with just the sound of other customers fumbling around with their silverware piercing it. The tension between the two was oppressively palpable; Keima could stick a fork in the pressure that was pushing down on his chest. It was only alleviated when Shiori, looking at the closed book in her hand, asked, "Well then, i-is there anyone you like right now?"

Slowly getting accustomed to the incessant non-sequiturs, Keima replied, "No."

He saw her nod, though he could have sworn she had a small grin on her face. "Um, then what's your 'type'?"

"2D girls," the nerd said, trying to follow her train of thought. If he didn't know better, he would have thought Shiori was taking notes from Chihiro's magazines. Still, it showed bright as day that she had a crush on him, and if her budding confidence was any sign, the Capturing God could ignore it no longer. He would have to put a stop to it. He had a feeling she'd handle it well, judging by her newfound agency, and he could see the ending. It would sting, especially since this was the first love of a meek librarian, but she'd recover, maybe write a book about the kiss she had with a boy who had never loved her. Keima started, "I'm going to be blunt; I don't think we should go-"

"W-wait, before that," Shiori interjected, desperation in her eyes, "can we meet up after school tomorrow? There's this book I'd like to buy."

He looked at her, and he couldn't help but be filled with pity. Sure, it was Reality and all, but seeing the girl trying to piece her heart together after he almost cut it in two was heart wrenching. "Oh, Shiori-"

"B-but you owe me though," Shiori argued, her voice betraying all of the pain in her tiny frame. It was starting to hurt to watch. Keima took a look around, not to avoid her gaze, he defended to himself, but to check to see if they were causing a scene in his family's business. Yep, it definitely wasn't to avoid seeing the pain in the poor girl's expression.

Gulping back the frog that was forming in his throat, Keima relented, "Alright. This will be the last time-"

"It won't." The sudden steel in her voice forced Keima to turn back towards the girl. "I'll make sure of it."

He suddenly felt his hands enveloped by hers. They were small. They were warm. They were trembling.

She was quite nervous.

Keima had to admit that he was nervous too.

Why?

"I-I promise you," Shiori declared, her hold on his hands getting tighter and tighter, "I'm going to win your heart. Before Ayumi, before Kanon, before any other girl."

She sealed her promise with a kiss.

Munching on her tuna roll, Minami Ikoma was a little distracted. Thoughts of pink idols and mystery voices were swimming in her mind.

Minami was only supposed to have swimming on her mind, not have other thoughts swim in it…

…This term was supposed to be her year of redemption. Sure, she started her last year in junior high on a bitter note with being the third sub at the one and only summer swim meet after all, and her friends went and focused their attention on other clubs, but she was determined to make the rest of her senior year a good one, even without Akko and Saito by her side.

She had to make it.

While the A-team was hitting the gym area on the third floor, she had been getting ready to swim on the fourth. Heck, she would have jumped into the pool had it not been for a certain pink haired girl who had almost spotted her when the latter entered the changing area.

Minami couldn't help but think of how pretty Kanon Nakagawa was. While her dad had written her off as someone more glamorous on TV than anyone could possibly be in person, seeing the real deal had Minami positively star-struck. She was unable to peel her eyes off the idol from behind the shower curtain Minami was using to hide herself, and she was stunned. Her face complexion was immaculate, and that fair skin tone extended to the rest of her lithe frame. Her toned body looked chiseled from marble, which was unfair since Minami worked out in a pool for fourteen hours a week and she was merely just as thin. The thing she was most jealous of was the way her hair cascaded down to her shoulder when she removed her signature ribbon. Compared to her stubborn eggs nest, Kanon's was absolutely flowing.

Should she get a picture? Maybe a signature?

Well, Kanon would probably not appreciate her jumping the idol while she was in the middle of changing, so it would probably be best to ambush her outside of the changing room instead.

"I think it's just me in here," Kanon suddenly shouted out.

"Good." The reply was from a male voice, calm and to-the-point. "It would have been troublesome if someone had spotted you because of your subpar disguise."

"Heh, can you help me out with that problem after this one then?" Kanon asked, leaving her bag on the locker room floor as she walked away. Minami allowed herself to breathe again. An idol's aura was incredibly pressuring, even if said idol's attention wasn't on her.

Now that the pinkette was gone, Minami slid aside the curtain, heaving in a deep breath. Slowly, the swimsuit clad freshman made her way to the entrance of the changing room and did her best to sneak a peek at the pool area without exposing herself. She saw Kanon in close proximity with a bespectacled brunette with a lanky build, and after they tossed their spectacles aside, Minami bore witness to the latter teaching the former basic water treading techniques.

Did that mean Kanon didn't know how to swim? And just who was that guy? He wasn't a fellow celeb, that was for sure. Maybe he was a staff member… but then they would just get a professional. He was a high school student for sure, probably her same year level, so that wasn't the case. Was he a secret lover or something?

"Alright, Kanon. We're done here. We'll have session two same time on Monday."

Just who was that man?

"Earth to Minami! Geez, you seem out of it. Heh, is it a guy?" Minami was shook from her reverie by her friends. They were eating lunch on one of the benches surrounding the track-and-field oval. To her side was Akko, who was giving her a large grin that betrayed her intent to mess with the poor Ikoma. She pouted. It seemed like the people that tended to gravitate towards her were the type that loved to tease. Oh well, it was always light-hearted jabs, so Minami could just let the insults slide off her back.

At least the frequency had lessened a tad since first trimester. Akko and Saito weren't participating as much in the swim club anymore, so once it was club time, Minami was safe since Akko was too busy doing volunteer work, while Saito

"Sorry guys," the girl huffed, jogging to the bench the others were seated on. She looked winded, struggling to catch her breath. "Some of the senpais from senior high dropped by to watch us train, so kaichou had us run some extra relays."

Akko looked sympathetic. "Mou, sounds difficult."

"It's okay. At least I have a chance to actually compete this time," Saito said, fanning herself as sweat poured down her face. She'd have to change out of her doused gym shirt before any cuties spotted her worse for wear. "Plus, one of the senpais was super cool! What was her name again? Was it Taka-"

"Wait, Minami's spacing out again," Akko interjected, waving a hand in front of the shorter girl. She seemed to be in a daze, as if staring past the duo next to her. Minami tended to be quite a grounded person compared to her and Saito, so to see her so in the clouds was incredibly entertaining. By the grin on Saito's face, Akko could tell she was enjoying the show just as much. "Heh, maybe there is a guy on her mind.

"Minami," Akko pressed, prodding the shoulder of the listless swimmer. With a jolt, Minami was brought back, trying her best to blink her thoughts out of her eyes. "What's up?"

'Mm, Kanon probably won't appreciate me spilling the beans about her secret relationship with that guy, so I'm not gonna mention her name at all,' Minami concluded, trying her best to satiate her friends' curiosity without screwing anyone over. As for 'that guy,' just who was he? He seemed so calm, even though he had been standing next to a literal superstar, and while he wasn't that fast, his breast stroke was clean. I… I want to know more about him.'

Taking a serious tone, Minami looked at her two friends and asked, "Hey, can I look at those Mai-High Knighthood files? I want to learn about someone: a guy with glasses."

"Keep up the good work, Keima," Rin said, watching the Capturing God polish the pastry display case to a sheen. Looking at the boy, he seemed rather content, a soft smile on his face as he did his menial work. Heck, if it weren't for her daughter's rumor mongering, she wouldn't have known about any of Keima Katsuragi's… more unsavory traits. Rin didn't really care whether or not his zeal came from a desire to please her or a genuine like for the job. The work the part-timer put in was good, and the fact that he had a unique skillset when needed was a boon as well, so Rin found no reason to complain.

As she returned to the backroom to dive into the sea of paperwork she had waiting for her on her desk, Keima's face cooled into a neutral expression. While it was true that he didn't hate his job – it was quite similar to what his mom would make him do during Sunday rush-hours, after all – he didn't really like it much either, mostly since he couldn't slack off with his PFP during almost nonexistent downtime. Mio would always have him do something, whether it be taking inventory, cleaning the store, buying ingredients, and other time-consuming tasks. Every time she made him do something, she seemed to really relish it, like a sadistic taskmaster working her poor, lowly slave.

Oh well, at least he got paid.

Looking at the blonde girl, who was writing something down in that little notepad of hers, he couldn't help but thing she had all the makings of an ojousama: blonde hair, yellow pigtails, proud personality, even an "ohohoho" he heard once when she made him take out the trash for the first time. Conversely, she was far from affluent. While they did own a debtless store that wasn't about to go under, business was far from booming, and from what he could piece together from the money in the cash register and the things he overheard from Rin's office, it would take a while for her to have enough money to comfortable save up for her retirement.

So where did Mio get those personality traits? Maybe from her father, though since Keima's seen neither hide nor tail from him. While it was possible that the Aoyama patriarch was simply working abroad like Keima's dad Keiichi, from the distant look Mio sometimes had on her when she didn't think he was looking, Keima could tell Mr. Aoyama was sadly gone.

Though Keima was surprised at the amount of attention he paid to the blonde. She was from the Real world, and aside from being a video game archetype, she didn't seem to be a Heroine, so why did he care so much? He was supposed to be above matters of Reality, so to suddenly start paying attention to things he claimed to be beneath him was concerning, to say the least. Even though he was trying to find aspects of heroines in some of the people around him, were they also trying to find something "redeemable" out of him? He'd have to think that over.

"Oi, stop staring at me," the pigtailed daughter of the owner ordered, pointing an accusatory finger at the nerd and derailing his train of thought. "Work on wiping the windows."

"Yes, Ma'am." Looking at his handiwork, he felt a slight tinge of contentment. The glass protecting the pastries from the outside world was polished to perfection. Heck, Keima could even see his own reflection in it…

…and a reflection of someone he knew.

Turning around, the Capturing God saw that his suspicion proved to be true. On the other side of the street was Chihiro, who was strolling through the shopping district at a leisurely pace. The problem was she was about to cross the street, which would put her right in front of the store. While Keima didn't think she was cruel enough to drag him away from his part time job, he had a feeling that if she spotted him, then she'd totally wait for his shift to end so she could ambush him with crap she couldn't be bothered to do herself.

Keima schooled his features in an effort to become inconspicuous. While his mom was able to see through that façade, it had worked on Shiori who, judging by the earlier event at the bookstore, payed attention to him quite a lot and could easily pick him out from a crowd, so if it worked on her, it should work on Chihiro.

As the bell attached to the top of the door rang, signaling that someone entered the store, Keima poured his all into polishing the outside window, hoping that the 2-B student wouldn't look too hard in his direction.

"Hi, can I have a pork bun?" Keima could hear from behind him. So far so good, though he couldn't shake the feeling that things were about to go downhill.

"Sure. They're on the rack over there. Katsuragi," he gulped "-move. You're blocking the buns."

"Katsuragi?" Hearing feet shuffling behind him, Keima turned around, coming face to face with the girl he really wanted to avoid. So much for remaining inconspicuous. She had a smirk on her face, as if just the mere thought of him doing manual labor gave her a dopamine rush. Annoying. "Wow, you're working part time?"

"Yes," Keima replied, wiping the sweat off his forehead. Hopefully, if he kept his responses short and boring, she'd leave him alone. Her look became inquisitive, bringing a finger to the corner of her lips.

"That's surprising," the girl commented. "You don't seem like the type to want to work. Are you already out of money?"

She was met by silence, broken by the sound of another customer shuffling into the bakery. Only a single raised brow betrayed the underlying emotions on the nerd's face. Wait, was he accusing her of draining his wallet? He had only been her slave for a few days! Sure, when they had stalk- followed Yuuta and Kusunoki, she had leeched some food off of him, and the day after, she made him spot her for lunch, but it was all relatively cheap food, so it shouldn't have burned the bank. She had assumed that he was rolling in the dough; after all, rumors say that he buys every single game on release, and how could someone pull that off without a lot of change to swing around?

Still, she didn't mean any harm. She wanted him to groan a bit, sure, but she didn't want to hurt his health in any way. Chihiro didn't think she was cruel, but the way the boy looked at her made her feel like she had just kicked a puppy, not drag around a perverted weirdo. Guilt weighed the girl down. Her smile faded, a guilty flat line replacing it.

Chihiro leaned in, voice as soft as a feather. "It was me, huh? I'm the reason why you didn't eat on Friday."

"Partially." Keima whispered back, bringing up his rag to continue doing his menial work. "I was low on money by the time Thursday rolled around. I thought I was going to make it to Saturday, but your food binges were the final nail in the coffin."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Chihiro's hushed tone betrayed a surprising amount of concern. He thought she would have laughed it off.

"I'm surprised you care."

"H-hey, don't word it that way," Chihiro protested, picking up a tray next to the rack of bread. "I may not want you to get hurt, but I don't like you."

"Yes yes, I understand," Keima replied, pulling away from the window pane he had been working on. He saw pursed lips and a pensive look on the face of the person who, as she put it, didn't like him. It was the most thoughtfulness he had seen on the girl's face since he first met her. The normally aloof girl who seemed to go with the flow with everything, reduced to a contemplative stare… it was interesting, to say the least. Maybe she wasn't a one-dimensional background character after all.

Before he could walk away behind the counter, Chihiro stopped him. "Hey, when do you get off from work?"

"Eight," the boy said, turning around to face the girl.

"Alright. I'm treating you to dinner."

"Anyway," continued Chihiro, "I'm sorry for starving you."

Despite nodding, Keima Katsuragi was confused. Even with the innumerable amount of knowledge he accrued from the tens of thousands of games he's played, the Capturing God was still surprised by the turn of events. After all…

…why would a side-character like Chihiro want to have an event with him?

"Hmm," the girl in question hummed, seemingly unaware of the inner turmoil the prepubescent boy in front of her was experiencing as she perused the menu of the family restaurant they were in. It was a Saizeriya, a restaurant chain popular for its incredibly budget friendly Japanese take on Italian classics. The focus on not breaking the bank was to be expected, since she was going to take care of the bill. "The meat doria looks nice, but hamburg steak though…"

"Katsuragi," Chihiro called out, looking across the table at her unlikely companion, "What are you going to get?"

Now she was trying to drag him into small talk? He thought she was just going to keep interaction with him to a minimum, but Saturday was proving to be host to a Chihiro paradigm shift. He could picture the dialogue boxes appearing in front of him based off of his thousands of hours of visual novel experience, which was astonishing since out of all the interactions Reality forced him into since junior year started, a Chihiro interaction would have been the least likely to be regarded as an actual Event for a route that Keima didn't really see… "Carbonara."

"Mou, pasta sounds nice, but I've eaten too many carbs today. Ah, screw it. I'll just get salad," Chihiro concluded the small talk, putting down the menu and raising her hand to flag a server. She took their orders and left, leaving the two teens to twiddle thumbs, waiting for their entrees to arrive in an awkward silence.

"S-so…" the boy in front of her suddenly spoke up, not making eye contact, "how's your thing with Ayasaki?"

Chihiro had to raise an eyebrow at that. She would have thought he hated the conversing in general, especially with someone he had a distaste for. Not following up would have kept the awkward silence for the rest of the dinner, something she had thought was perfectly fine in his book.

Was Keima actually socially savvy underneath all that geek? Probably not; he had replaced the awkward silence with an awkward conversation. It was clear that his discomfort around her leaked into his normally calm tone, and a small part in the back of Chihiro's head told her to make fun of him for it.

It was hushed by another part of her brain.

Ayumi would want the two of them to get along, it said.

Besides, a willing slave is better than a reluctant one, right? "I don't know. I have his number, but I don't really feel like hitting him up. He has the vibe of… y'know-"

"A sis-con?"

"Yep," Chihiro let out a giggle as Keima took an untroubled sip of the glass of water in front of him. The teenaged girl felt the atmosphere at the table lighten up a bit. It was kind of hilarious that even anti-social people could pick up on Yuuta's less… presentable side. "It's so sad. His looks were a ten out of ten. He was part of a band too."

Keima saw a glint in her eye: something he had never seen on a background character before. Subconsciously, he latched onto it, "A band, huh? Are you into that kind of stuff?"

Feeling at ease around Keima Katsuragi for the first time since her senior high started, she continued, "I play a bit of the guitar, and to be honest, I'd love to learn how to sing and write songs. I don't even know why I'm telling this to you of all people; no one else knows about this silly dream of mine."

Keima's eyebrow rose.

"Oh, I'm not that close with my family, and Miyako would just roast me. Ayumi might take me more seriously, but I don't know. She has poked fun at my singing before when we last went out to karaoke."

"They wouldn't trash your dreams." Faith oozed out of Keima's voice. Where had he gotten that from? Earlier he was struggling to even make eye contact with her when they were talking, so maybe that confidence in his own beliefs on her relationships with others was something he had to build up over the course of the dinner. Well, Chihiro was reluctant to admit it, but Keima had her convinced.

"Yeah, I guess so. Still, I don't want to tell anyone. I want to at least write a song first, though so far I've only managed to compose a verse and a chorus, and I haven't had anyone listen to it," Chihiro said. She then pointed a finger at the boy. "And you better not tell anyone, or I'll kill you."

Keima grit his teeth, but it wasn't because of the half-hearted death threat.

Keima could see it.

The ending.

Sure, the exact chain of events leading up to it wasn't clear, but there wasn't supposed to be anything to see in the first place. She was Chihiro: a classic side character. The girl closest to becoming a heroine in Keima's eyes was Ayumi; side characters were simply there to accentuate them.

So why did Reality give her a route? And more importantly, was he going to pursue it?

Ayumi would want the two of them to get along.

And just as Keima decided what he was going to do: Buzz.

Keima put down the menu and slipped his hand into his pocket, unearthing his phone. It had been around 24 hours since Kanon last messaged him, which was a first. She was probably too occupied with learning how to swim to start worrying – and bothering Keima – about things she didn't need to concern herself with, which was refreshing.

It seemed like the streak was over. Oh well-

Sender: Shiori Shiomiya

The nerd rubbed the bridge of his nose. That girl was starting to be a little too enthusiastic for his liking just because he let slip a nice comment about the sundress she wore when they were on their little date. He wondered offhandedly if he had accidentally unearthed an unstoppable force when he dragged the librarian out of her shell. Deciding to get it over with, Keima opened the mail.

Thanks for going to Concordia with me, Keima.

Keima quickly tapped out a reply, emphasizing that he went because he owed her. Once that task was out of the way, he looked up, only to see Chihiro with her own brow raised. She pointed out, "Huh, I didn't think you get texts at all. Is that from Ayumi?"

"No." Chihiro could see how stiff he was. He was clamming up. She pursed her lips. She had opened up to him, even if it was just to give him the slightest peek into who Chihiro Kosaka was, yet Keima didn't have the courtesy to do the same, leaving her curiosity famished.

No matter. She would just pry him open. "So who is mailing the great Otoshigami? Was it that girl you kissed?"

Buzz.

It was Shiori again.

I'm sorry to impose, but I want to show you something. Please meet me at the station at five in the evening tomorrow, or else I'm going to have to drop by your place and talk to Mari for a bit.

The nerd shivered. She had bought a horror novel. Maybe she drew inspiration from her new book, since what she typed down chilled Keima to the bone. Keima mentally moved Shiori up the threat list. As he gave his coerced consent, he wondered if Kanon still deserved the number 1 spot when Shiori had a direct line to the most powerful figure in Keima's life.

Chihiro, by comparison, was much easier to deal with. "For someone who doesn't believe I kissed someone, you sure do bring it up a lot."

"Hey, what can I say?" Chihiro defended herself, shrugging her shoulders. "It was a pretty bad lie on your part."

Buzz.

Just wondering. Are you on a date right now?

Okay, Shiori was definitely going to take Kanon's place as the number one girl on his threat list. Did she read something about womanly instincts? Did she call in a favor from Kusunoki and learned about her aura sensing skill?

"No… I'm not," Keima whispered as he typed it out.

This wasn't a date.

He wasn't lying. Not at all.

"…I wouldn't mind listening to your song," Keima confessed, causing astonishment to pop up on Chihiro's face. He was tempted to pick up the jaw she dropped on the floor, but he didn't want to accidentally come off as romantic.

Or did he? He still hadn't decided on what approach to take when it came to handling the girl who had the most animosity towards him.

"A-are you sure?" Chihiro choked out, eyes the size of dinner plates.

"I am your slave, after all," Keima replied, keeping his voice even as the server gave them their food. "Just say the word."

He was growing more and more accustomed to the Real, and Keima wasn't sure if he liked it or not.

Beta Reader: xellos540. Thanks man.

As always, AN can be found on my profile.