Our expedition last night was... fair. We managed to make our way to the nineteenth floor, two floors up from our previous trip. Considering the kind of place Tartarus was, this was a massive leap in progress. I wasn't satisfied with it however. I felt we could have done more.

So, to vent out my frustrations whilst training my body to hit Shadows a lot harder at the same time, I decided to go to Kendo practice today.

"C'mon, c'mon!" Kazushi goaded, as energetic as ever. "I'll show you what I'm made of!"

What made today special was that we weren't training with just wooden dummies that couldn't fight back. Starting from that day onward, we would be allowed to use the blades on each other. And by blades, I of course mean wooden sticks.

Kazushi was chosen to be my partner. Shortly after we got into position, the two of us ended up sparring for about ten minutes, lasting longer than several other pairs on the team. I had to admit, he wasn't half bad at this.

He was quick, agile, and rather perceptive. He was able to predict nearly every single one of my moves. Every attack I tried to land, he would parry and deliver a swift counterattack, which would more often than not catch me off guard. Each attack, each subtle movement of his leg, he knew exactly where my attacks would land and how to effectively deal with each one.

During break, we decided to mess around a little with our weapons. Essentially, we created our own little game where the standard rules applied—a head strike counted as a point, a body strike counted, and so on and so on—but we were able to move around the room however we wanted to. We could roll, leap, sidestep, the works.

We were just lucky that coach wasn't there to see how stupid we were acting. It was all good fun in the end though.

"How'd you learn...to predict my moves that quickly?" I asked, panting, as the crack of the wooden shinai reverberated throughout the room. I moved my body so his vertical slice caught nothing but air and jumped back in response to his next strike.

"I...I don't really predict your moves," he chuckled, panting as well. "It's just—" Another crack sounded out. "—instinct, I guess."

That cheeky little—

"Anyway," he said, taking a few steps back from me, watching my every move. He and I paid no heed to the dozens of eyes watching our match, "how exactly did you get so quick?"

"Like I said," I slashed my sword downwards with one hand, the tip hovering just above the ground, as a sort of taunt, "I just do my usual training."

Kazushi, muttering a curse, suddenly grinned like a madman and charged towards me, his blade prime and ready to strike. He may have been good in this sort of environment, but every time I stepped into that tower, I put my life on the line. I live and die by the sword, metaphorically speaking.

So when I saw that familiar stance and speed, I knew what kind of attack he was about to do. He swung downwards. That was a big mistake. He gave control of this encounter to me as soon as he did so. In a half-second, I parried his strike, putting a lot of force into it to knock him off balance. He quickly recovered and thrust the weapon towards my chest. Predictable. With a light grin of my own, I shifted my body to the side, my sword raised high above my head. I brought it down as soon as his momentum carried him past me and tapped him lightly on the shoulder.

Victory was mine.

The gasps of my fellow Kendo clubmates was something I didn't expect to hear, but it was a rather nice bonus on top of beating one of the top members of the club.

"Tch!" Kazushi grunted, falling on his behind onto the wooden floor of the gymnasium. He still had a grin on his face, even though he had just lost. His sportsmanship was something to be admired. "Heh...looks like you won."

"Seems like it," I said, my face turning stone-like once again. "You're still our captain though." I stretched my hand out to him. "So get up, train harder. That's the only way you'll beat me."

"...hmph!" his grunt echoed through the room as he grabbed my hand and pulled himself onto his feet. "I'll keep that in mind. Seriously, you gotta tell me where you train. I can use that kinda strength."

"No, you don't. You really don't," I said, chuckling with a light smile. "Trust me on this one."

"Fine then," he snorted, getting into his ready stance. "If you won't tell, I'll just have to beat it outta you!"

"Persistent, aren't you?" I sighed. "Alright then, one more match."

"One more!" Kazushi beamed, sweat beading down his temple.

"Go, Kaz!"

"Kick him down!"

"Show him who's boss!"

The cheers of my clubmates were either of camaraderie or they just really wanted to see him wipe the floor with me. It was hard to tell the difference between the two, but the latter was more likely, considering that no cheers were thrown in my direction.

Thanks for the vote of confidence, everyone. Really appreciated.

"...hm?" Kazushi grunted.

"Kazushi?" I asked, lowering my guard a little. "Something wrong?"

His expression contorted into one of shock and surprise. It turned to pain as his weapon slipped out of his hands and landed with a hollow clack sound.

"Are...are you serious...?!"

He then fell to the ground, unconscious.

"Kaz!" Yuko started running over to him, along with myself and the rest of the club.

Several Interesting Developments

"Kaz, you're anemic?" Yuko asked with a huff, her hands placed against her hip.

"W-well," a flustered Kazushi stuttered out, "yeah, I am..."

"And why exactly didn't you tell any of us?!" Yuko exclaimed. It wasn't hard to see that she wasn't angry at him. It was more worry than anger.

"None of you asked...so...yeah..."

...that is quite possibly the weakest excuse in the book. I should know, because I've used it who knows how many times.

"C'mon...," a varsity member muttered worriedly. "We're counting on you to be captain next year..."

"Hey, he's anemic," I spoke out in his defense. "It isn't like he can help that."

The other club members whispered amongst themselves for a moment before one of them spoke up.

"Don't push yourself too hard, you hear?" That same member said, placing a hand on Kazushi's shoulder. "Even with the big meet next year...ease up."

"S-sorry, senpai," Kazushi said, head downcast.

"Makoto, can you take him home?" Yuko asked as the entire club started to leave the room. "I think he needs a helping hand for the moment."

"...sure," I replied, nodding.

"Thanks."

With that, Yuko left the room. The nurse's office was left in a cold silence. A rather awkward silence. A silence that must have been deafening to Kazushi, not helped by my inquisitive stare.

"...what? I-I'm fine, Makoto," he insisted forcefully. "My anemia's just acting up, that's all..."

"Whatever you say," I let out as the stare continued to bore into him.

"H-heh. I-it's nothing serious..." he trailed off, his expression turning from certainty to worry. I didn't divert my eyes at all, piercing his gaze and hoping he'd fess up. Eventually, it worked.

"Argh!" he cried exasperatedly. "I can't do it! I can't lie to you! Makoto...my knee hasn't felt right...since that day you first came to practice. Even if I massage it or put medicine on it...it won't work..."

"Then just take the day off," I said nonchalantly. It was a simple solution to a rather simple problem.

"...I can't do that, and you can't make me."

"Why not?" He kept his mouth shut and turned to look away from me. "Look, if you don't want to tell me, that's fine, but I doubt keeping all this in will do you any good. I'd like for you to tell me what's going on, but I'll let you do it on your own terms. That alright with you?"

Kazushi hung his head in defeat.

"...next year, there's a national competition," he sighed. "There will be participants from all over Japan. The regional meet pales in comparison. I have to win at that meet! I can't afford to put my training on hold!"

"But having the star player of the Gekkoukan Kendo team crippled from a knee injury would be pretty humiliating, wouldn't it?"

"...yeah...I guess so," Kazushi conceded. "But I still can't hold out on this...I just can't."

He was still hiding something from me. I could just tell. But I'd already dug far enough for today.

"Listen...there are a lot of nosy guys on the team. If they find out, they'll just keep bugging me about it...Makoto, please keep it a secret, alright?!" Kazushi pleaded, getting out of bed and bowing to me as low as he possibly could.

"...having the would-be-captain of the team bowing to a newcomer like this is pretty humiliating in of itself," I said, earning from him a surprised look. "I'll keep your secret if you get up."

"...thanks, man."

"Don't mention it. But, seriously, get some rest—"

*SMASH!*

"GAH—!"

I clutched my head in pain.

"Thou shalt be blessed when thou chooseth to imbue thyself with the Chariot Arcana..."

"Makoto!" Kazushi said, rushing over to me. "You okay?!"

"Y-yeah..." I told him, standing back up straight and rubbing my head a little. "I just have headaches sometimes, that's all."

"Really?" Kazushi asked, sounding surprised. "You should probably get that checked out."

"I have medicine for it," I lied. "Don't worry. I just forgot to take it this morning."

"Well then, don't forget next time, alright?" he said. "I want you at your best when we have our rematch."

"...sure."

"...if I go easy on it," he rested his hand on his knee, "I can make it home by myself. Don't worry about me. Go back to training."

"...alright."

During the rest of the session, I was paired up with some other dude whose name I didn't really try to remember. It didn't matter anyway. As I put the training gear away, my thoughts turned to Kazushi, wondering if he did manage to make it back in one piece.

...oh well, it isn't like I can catch up to him now. I'll just have to trust that he made it back.

Things were normal. Things were steady. Nothing was happening. Everything was fine. Never thought you'd hear that from me, after all that had happened. But yeah. Things were...strangely mundane. And this was good. This was great. There was bound to be a storm coming. I just knew it. The Shadows weren't gonna make life any easier for us. Might as well bask in these ordinary days while I still could, you know?

I made my way out of the building. Things were rather quiet. There weren't many students around now since it was well after the final bell. As I stepped outside the boundary of the school, a familiar voice called out to me.

"Oh, Makoto-kun, what's up?"

I saw Yuko at the school gates. She waved at me as I approached her.

"Wanna walk home together?" I asked. Why not? While I didn't mind walking home alone, having some company wouldn't hurt. Yuko thought about it for a moment before nodding. Besides, I was somewhat in the mood to hang around. Perhaps I just wanted to make these normal everyday occurrences between friends go on just a little more for the day.

"Okay. Why don't we stop somewhere along the way?" she asked with a smile.

"Sure," I replied. "Do you have a place in mind?"

"Oh, I think I do. Let's get going."

Wild-Duck Burger.

Yuko had ordered a salad and some fries while I settled for a cup of iced tea and a cheeseburger. The food was fine, but it wasn't as good the second time around. The mystery was gone, and you knew what to expect.

So most of the time spent at the burger joint was spent just talking. About boring things, really; mostly schoolwork, club stuff, future endeavors for the kendo club, the works. There's a charm to meaningless conversation, especially when most of said conversation is spent complaining.

Currently, we were on the topic of teachers.

"I'm mentally exhausted..." Yuko sighed, her food practically untouched.

"What happened?" I asked, pulling my attention away from my food for the moment.

"Well, it's nothing major," she replied. "Maybe I exaggerated a bit...but seriously, I have been feeling kind of down lately..."

"Why?"

Looked at me intently for a bit, as if debating whether or not to tell me. She relented after a few seconds, an expression on her face just saying who cares? "Mr. Ekoda asked to speak with me. He wanted to know why I turned in a blank quiz. He asked me, Don't you have any motivation?"

"Well, what'd you tell him?"

"I answered honestly. I said, Not really. Then he got so pissed off!"

Half scoffed there for a second, I wonder why—shut up, shut up, shut up. Shouldn't be a jerk. She took the time out of her day to talk to you. Respond nicely, blue-haired twit.

I was really scared of my inner thoughts at this point, though I didn't let this show. Conversation would slow and I didn't want that to happen.

"He even yelled at me about the length of my skirt!" she continued. "Who cares about classic literature anyway? Besides, I didn't do anything wrong! Right?"

"While I agree he was being unreasonable," I stated, lowering my burger, "you have to admit, you were showing quite a bit of disrespect, what with that comment and all."

At that, she blinked and shook her head, sighing. "I guess you're right. I shouldn't have said that to a teacher, no matter how much of an jerk he is..." How so eloquently stated. "But like you said, he was still very unreasonable. Who was he to ask that kinda thing...!? Especially after he asked me to turn in a three-page essay, reflecting on my performance in his class..."

Yuko then sighed, her face turning furious. "Three pages! Is he serious? What does he expect me to say?"

"I think he's expecting three pages of constant apologies and praises of Classic Lit."

"True, he'd probably want that," Yuko chuckled. "I guess I have no choice, if I want to graduate. Otherwise, I'll have to repeat his class. I can't wait to celebrate graduation with everyone, especially the team...and you too, Makoto-kun."

"Really?"

"...or am I getting ahead of myself?" she asked with a small smile.

"What do you mean?" I asked, drinking out of the cup in my hand.

"Eh, I know about your crush on Yukari anyway."

The drink that was in my mouth suddenly went flying across the room as I spat it out in shock and disbelief. I didn't think one could spit soda that far, but I was proven wrong in that moment.

"...what are you talking about...?" I asked in between coughs and wiping my mouth.

"I could just tell," Yuko replied casually, grinning somewhat in my embarrassment.. "Plus, Kaz told me."

Should've known, Kazushi, you monster.

She continued, "He got it from Kazuhara, who got it from Himuro-senpai, who got it from that brown-haired guy who tried to make out with Anzu Shimada, who got it from one of your dorm-mates...Iori, if I remember correctly. Did I get his name right?"

Oh, so that's what happened with Kenji and that Anzu Shimada girl. And Junpei, that katana of yours is going straight up your—

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone," Yuko said with a smile. "It'd be horrible of a manager to sell her trusted team's secrets to others."

"...she's not my girlfriend." Not yet, at least. "And you'd better hold your word—" or I'm going to shove Orpheus' lyre right up her—okay, no! I don't want to go down that train of thought. Again. "Please don't tell anybody..."

"I'll be cheering you on!" Yuko said, raising a fist in the air for me. "I think you and Yukari fit each other really well!"

"...thanks again," I replied wearily, though a little amused by her enthusiasm. "And I'll be cheering for you and Kazushi too."

She said nothing, but her wide eyes and red cheeks said everything. "I-it's that obvious...?"

I blinked at her. "N-no, that was just a joke..."

And of course, this was gold.

She quickly turned red and averted her gaze from me, burying her head in her arms and balling her hands into fists. Seeing her in her shame, I of course just had to make more fun of the situation.

"So...you have a crush on Kazushi?"

"If you tell anyone, I swear—"

"I won't," I chuckled. "Would be horrible of a member of the kendo club to sell his trusted manager's secrets to others."

I'd say I was entitled to a little teasing; if there was one thing I and my friends needed to counterbalance the depressing circumstances of the Dark Hour, it'd be levity.

She narrowed her eyes at me, pouting sourly. But then she smirked as she replied a simple, "Good. And...by the way...thanks for earlier."

"Hm?" I asked her.

"You helped bring Kaz to the infirmary and stayed with him a while after," she said. "He texted me about it just a little earlier, before you met up with me. For that, I'm grateful. I didn't even know he had anemia at all...did he tell you anything about it?"

I took a sip from my cup of iced tea and simply said to her, "I think it's something you have to ask him about directly.

She narrowed her eyes again at me, raising her right brow, "Did he tell you to keep it secret?"

"He told me not to tell anybody," I said. "He has his reasons, which he asked me to keep quiet on. I don't think it'd be right for me to tell you. If you wanna know, ask him directly."

She scoffed, stretching out her arms and laying her head on the table, "He's one of the most stubborn guys I've ever met. If he's keeping secrets, he'll hide 'em for years and use the most annoying tactics imaginable to change the topic or aggravate me enough to let go of the conversation."

"I promised him I wouldn't tell anybody."

She shook her head, "Yeah. Okay. I guess I can respect that," then she sighed, less disdain in her tone and more concern. "You don't think he's pushing himself too much? He's been training extra hard lately...I just hope he doesn't overdo it."

"If he does end up overdoing it, I'll talk to him," I said to her.

"Make sure I'm there with you," Yuko said. "Calling Kaz out for being stupid is my job."

I nodded at her, giving her a grin as she took a bite out of her set of fries, "Sure thing."

And then I heard a—

*SMASH!*

AGH!

"Thou shalt be blessed when thou chooseth to imbue thyself with the power of the Strength Arcana..."

For a moment, I wondered if I had subconsciously planned to advance my Link with her right from the moment I asked her to eat out with me. Hoping that it wasn't at all the case. But then she looked at her watch and made a tsk sound, "Man..."

So my attention returned to the situation at hand, "What's up?" I asked.

"Sorry for cutting this so quickly, but I have to go work on my essay," she said, getting up off her seat. "It's getting late...you prolly should be heading home now, too."

I nodded to her, getting up from my seat, "Wanna walk together to the station?"

She nodded, smiling, "Sure."

So we talked and talked more the whole way to the trains; we left most of our food untouched, but we didn't really seem to mind that at all as we engaged in more meaningless small talk about the little grievances the school would give us day after day.

A reverberating slam sounded out as I kicked the door open and stomped into the dorm. Ikutsuki was the only one there, reading some book. He didn't look at all shocked or surprised to see me enter the building this way. Simply lifting his head to look at me.

"Where. Is. Junpei?" I asked, bloodlust prevalent in my eyes.

"Iori is out for the moment, Yuki."

Curses. Foiled again.

"Did you need him for something?" he asked.

"...no," I said. "I'll be up in my room."

I promised myself that I'd kill Junpei the moment I could get my hands around that stupid neck of his. But he always somehow managed to elude my grasp. So the very next day, I decided to try the baseball club and see if I could corner him there, get some answers outta him about why he would betray me so soon after I'd entrusted him with one of my deepest darkest secrets.

But of course, he wasn't there. Not a single person was at the baseball field. I bemoaned my luck.

"Hey, Makoto!"

Then, the voice of one Satoshi Himuro managed to catch my attention. I turned and I saw that he wasn't even wearing a jersey; instead he took to some grey track pants, a black undershirt, and a purple headband. He jogged over to me and kept jogging in place as he asked, "What'cha doing here?"

I blinked, "Looking for Junpei. Have you seen him anywhere?"

"No, not really," Satoshi said, eyes glancing around for a moment. "He was here yesterday, though. Practice today was cancelled 'cause coach suddenly came down with a fever just last night. I'm jogging around to compensate."

Lost him again, I grunted as a low rumbling noise escaped my guts.

I hadn't eaten much today. Woke up a little later than I'd hoped to and ended up skipping out on breakfast just to get to class quicker. I'd made it on time, but now my stomach was empty and I was craving for something meaty and juicy and tender. Perhaps this was my punishment for yesterday; it seemed no less than what I deserved for leaving all that food from Wild-Duck Burger to waste.

"H-hey, you okay?" Satoshi asked as I clutched my empty, growling stomach with a slight scowl on my face.

"...I'm a little hungry," I admitted.

At that, Satoshi let out a laugh and clapped my shoulder.

"Well, come on then," he said with a smile. "I'll have you eat at my dad's restaurant today."

"You sure, senpai?" I asked, now uncomfortable for two reasons. "Wouldn't I be intruding?"

"Nah. Don't worry about it," he told me, flicking his hand in a dismissing gesture. "And don't call me senpai. A little too formal for me."

Part of me wanted to just tell him it was fine, wanted to just go out into the city and eat from some other place like Hagakure or Junes. But another part of me wondered just what Satoshi's father's restaurant had in store. Thought back to him and Tomoya that night, at the strip mall; thought about their longstanding grudges against each other and wondered if perhaps I could become some sort of mediator between them both.

And I was really hungry. So I accepted the offer, and gave my thanks. To which he, of course, said, "Don't mention it."

Satoshi and I were at The Iron Lung. It was packed to the brim with several customers. I could see about five waiters working round the clock just to serve thee people. I didn't expect this place to be that famous for a family restaurant. Though the walls were plain white and there were hardly any decorations, the fact that so many had come to the place in search of a decent meal just got me thinking about what kind of food they would sell around here.

"Hello, Satoshi-kun," a lady at the door said, her voice frail. The woman was wearing a brown-stained apron over her white one-piece dress, and she greeted us with a big smile. She had light-grey hair that flowed all the way down to her shoulders and a small mole on her chin. Though she smiled like a young woman, she looked like she was pushing sixty.

"Hey, Mom. I want you to meet a friend of mine," Satoshi said, pointing to me. "This is Makoto Yuki, a junior at Gekkoukan."

Wait...she's his mother? Strange...she looks way older than how a mother should look. She's got gray hair, for one thing. Did she fart him out when she was fifty-seven—wow, I've been thinking like a douche lately. I should stop it.

"Hello there, Makoto-kun."

"...Nice to meet you, Himuro-san," I said, caught off-guard by her unexpected kindness. She had a pretty neutral and glazed look in her eyes which kind of unsettled me.

But she was rather pleasant despite that, and that was enough for me.

"Why is this place called The Iron Lung again?" I asked, grabbing my chopsticks and preparing to chow down on a bowl of ramen that had been laid in front of me just a few moments ago.

"My dad came up with the name," Satoshi explained. "He said it sounded nice. I don't know, really. He just goes by his own pace. The moment he gets an idea, he pushes for it till it actually comes to fruition."

Oh. "I can safely assume that your parents do all the cooking then?"

"Yeah," he replied, also preparing his own set of chopsticks to consume a plate of sushi.

"How long has this restaurant been here, anyway?" I asked, slurping on a bunch of hot, spicy noodles. Strangely, the spice didn't affect me all that much. "It's pretty famous, seeing how many people there are..."

"The Iron Lung was set up five years ago," he began. "My dad started it out as a food stand; like that Takoyaki stand at the strip mall, but it eventually grew bigger through some secondary parties."

"...secondary parties?"

"Business-related. You wouldn't understand."

"...okay," I said, deciding to leave it at that for now. Wasn't really big on business-type things anyway. But as I ate, I noticed that Satoshi still had bandages wrapped around his wrists. I was still contemplating on whether or not to ask him about them, considering—

A crashing sound.

"Yuuta!" a female voice yelled from the kitchen.

"Mom, what happened?!" Satoshi cried, getting up from his seat.

Following him into the kitchen, ignoring the shocked and surprised stares of the other customers in the restaurant, what I had run into was a shock to me. Not that much of a shock to Satoshi, though.

There was a man with Satoshi's mother, who was busy focusing only on picking up the several shards of porcelain, most likely from an assortment of plates, which had spread out across the floor. She had a stoic yet noticeably stressed expression on her face.

The man wore nothing but a white shirt and blue jeans, his brown hair frazzled and unkempt. He had an expression caught between confusion, shock and obliviousness. His eyes were also rather...dull. They didn't have that much of a shine to them as normal eyes would. He looked just as old as Satoshi's mother.

Thankfully, he wasn't one of the Lost. Thinking of that reminded me of something Yuko had said about more and more people falling victim to the Syndrome, and I figured that perhaps another trip into Tartarus would help out—

"Dad...," Satoshi looked both exasperated and somewhat unsurprised. He went over to his father and laid a hand over his shoulder, obviously trying to maintain patience. "Mom and I told you to stay upstairs..."

"But it's the grand opening of the restaurant! I won't let my son and wife work the place for me! It's my responsibility!" he said with a gruff tone of voice, which I didn't at all expect to hear from someone so slouched in posture.

...yes, I noticed these kinds of things. Hypersensitivity is one of those traits you pick up from living in a broken home. It could get pretty aggravating at times though.

Grand opening...? It's the grand opening of the Iron Lung today? Then why...

Remembered then what Tomoya had said about Satoshi's dad and Alzheimer's and all at once everything became a whole lot more depressing.

"...Dad," Satoshi said, guiding his father, who continued to look around in a surprised manner, out of the kitchen. "Come on...I'll take you back to your room. Makoto, sorry, but can you—?"

"Can I what?" I asked, noticing how he suddenly stopped talking once he saw me rush for a nearby broom and dustpan propped against the wall.

Before leaving with his father, he blinked and nodded solemnly at me while I nodded back at him in affirmation.

After Satoshi left the kitchen, his mother spoke to me as I continued sweeping up the shards. "You don't have to do this, Makoto-kun..."

"I want to, Himuro-san," I said, continuing to pick the pieces of the broken plates up.

"...thank you so much," was all she said.

"Don't mention it."

"...thanks for helping my mom back there," Satoshi said as we sat back down at the counter.

"Not a problem...you didn't seem all that shocked. Does this happen a lot?"

"Yeah...my dad, he...he has Alzheimer's," he told me, briefly making eye contact with me before looking away. "He, uh..." he continued, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck and looking down at the table. "He does that sometimes...he's been diagnosed with it since he turned twenty."

"...well, um, sorry for intruding earlier...," I bowed.

"What?" Satoshi said, looking at me like I said something completely ridiculous. "You kidding me? You helped Mom out back there. She's been overly stressed out lately with work and everything. So thank you. Not even Tomoya did that when he was around..."

"Tomoya-senpai?" I asked.

"Oh yeah, I never told you what happened between us...," Satoshi recalled, frowning from the memories of it all.

"He already told me, Satoshi."

"...what'd he say?" he questioned, unamused.

"He told me a lot. About his past, what he did...he told me about your dad. He said that he feels bad over what happened."

"Don't believe him," Satoshi growled demandingly. "He's a total liar."

"...what?"

"He tell you about him being a punk?" he asked, facing me with what seemed like a glare. I nodded. "That's the only thing about him you can believe," he sighed. "Everything else is a lie. The nice act, the good grades, the timid looks, all of it. Don't trust 'im. He'll have you drowning in your own filth by the time he's done with you."

"...okay...?"

Tomoya can't be that bad... could he? Satoshi sighed once more after he calmed down. He was able to look me in the eye again.

"But seriously though, thanks again," he said, placing a hand over my shoulder. "From now on, you'll get a discount every time you eat here."

"Really?" I asked aloud, somewhat surprised at this turn of events. "I can't accept that—"

"You've earned it," he insisted. "Trust me!"

"A-are you sure...? I didn't do much of anything, really."

"You've done good by me and my family. And that's enough for me, man," he smiled.

*SMASH!*

Mmmph.

"Thou shalt be blessed when thou chooseth to imbue thyself with the power of the Tower Arcana..."

Well... that was quite the conversation...

On the way home, I wondered for a moment why it was that my Social Links all seemed to have had such horrible lives. Yukari, was a tsundere whose parents were pretty much gone, Kenji was a cougar-chaser with probably no chance of getting the woman he was after, Kazushi was a sports maniac with a messed up knee, Akihiko was most likely a protein junkie, Fuka was a bullying victim, and I'd almost forgotten about Tomoya and his family issues.

And now Satoshi...

What next? Perhaps Yuko would secretly spend her time engaging in enjo kosai or it would turn out that Hidetoshi was secretly smuggling drugs among the students.

People were entrusting me with their personal lives, their secrets, their inner demons. Most of the time, I would just stand there, never expecting to hit them home in any fashion. Yet somehow, they found in me something they could trust. Was this how friends just naturally were? Could they say such things so easily?

How could people in this day and age trust each other so easily? I wasn't complaining at all; I was sincerely curious. I'd never been that social and I'd never been interested in trying to be. It just felt odd all of a sudden to be a confidant. It felt odd to be relied upon.

Then I recalled how I had so easily spoken to Junpei and Yukari and the others in S.E.E.S. about my dreams, my parents, my family, my sister. How I had come to trust them as well, with my own baggage. And that wonderful yet painful feeling I'd get whenever I'd advance a Social Link and know that on the other end, I was considered a friend.

I then thought of Mom and Dad and Hamuko again, suddenly.

Thought of what they would think of me, having taken part in all this. Were they proud of me for gaining the courage to actually speak to people and help them through their issues? Were they horrified by how I'd chosen to slaughter Shadows in my spare time? Were they disappointed that I was willing to indulge in my own petty revenge? Or were they happy that I'd finally decided to make something out of myself despite it all?

The monorail rumbled the whole way home. I listened to music all the way, deciding to drown out my thoughts in Lotus Juice and Yumi Kawamura because it felt ultimately pointless to ask questions I would never be able to answer.