As the school year wore on, Yoshiyuki began to spend more and more time on his PSP. That wouldn't have been troublesome by itself, but by the middle of winter Grandma had noticed how he seemed to be listless at dinner sometimes, and she surmised it was due to a lack of sleep. At one point he missed an entire day because he woke up well after nine, so Grandma had his device and his phone taken away.

With the onset of his second year in Nankaisei he replaced overgaming with overeating. One time he got an upset stomach. The school nurse, having heard Grandma's lament that he wasn't like this before, concluded he was depressed, which alarmed the old lady. It was then that she realized he didn't have a club anymore. She had been taking the club for granted this past year, busy brokering additional space for Izu Mite, even the fallout of the Italy trip flew clean over her head.

#12. The Summer of Piazza

Grandma tried talking to Anju, but the girl explained they weren't interested in a club anymore, and that she and Shuka had already joined the brass band. They were too busy practicing they couldn't come over to the house like before.

That year's summer, Yoshiyuki buried himself in late-night anime marathons, this time waking up at ten everyday. When Grandma found porn in the stash under his bed, she simply lay back on her chair and gave up.

As soon as school returned Mrs. Minase immediately sought help from the homeroom teacher and school counselor. They agreed to assign worksheets to be done at home so he catch up on lessons he missed, and then some, for those he could possibly skip.

One evening, much to her surprise, Yoshiyuki was sitting at the living room, gazing absently at nothing. Has he tired of all that anime day in and out? Regardless, she didn't want to miss this opening, so she got the kettle steaming and laid tea and cake for the both of them right next to him.

"You've lost weight, Yoshiyuki-kun," she remarked.

"…"

"You might not make it to a proper soccer league if this keeps up."

"…"

As if that would pique the slightest interest in him. She could only sigh again at his unresponsiveness. But then… she noticed the glazed eyes were gone, replaced by a hard, resistant look. He was acknowledging her presence, at least. "You can't stay like this forever, Yoshiyuki. If something happens to me—"

She thought she heard him gasp.

"Yoshiyuki. You need to make yourself presentable. We can't tell the times. You will be obliged to return if—"

"There's nothing to return to in Tokyo," he said quietly. "And now I have nothing here. All because of that hotel brat. The club is the only family I know. And Rikako. And you… But now even you tell me you'll be gone. You really want to take away from me absolutely everything, don't you?"

"I'm only stating the obvious, Yoshiyuki-kun."

"Then it is obvious I should never have been born… just to live like this."

Grandma had nothing witty to say to this.

Yoshiyuki looked at her, surprised to have stopped her in her tracks. She had been such a nag the whole year. Maybe things have gotten a little too edgy. Sigh. "Alright, I'll eat."

Grandma reached out and rubbed his hair affectionately. "But I am really happy you were born, Yoshiyuki," she said warmly. "I really am."

His face fell flat. What's with this sudden cheesiness? Whatever. He took his tea and Grandma got up to get more from the kitchen.

For the rest of the night the atmosphere was more relaxed as they let the tea seep into their nerves. The windowpane was tapping softly again form an ocean breeze and Granny was slightly concerned about the weather tomorrow. "You really have to get into your workload now," she told him. "If you start right away, like, taking care of all your backlog before the midterms and paying full attention in all of your classes, I can persuade your teachers to give you a decent grade." Tall orders, but they had to be done. "Can you do away with the manga for now?"

No, he thought, but, "We had study groups in the club before. If I could get at least Nitta-san or Uchida-san, maybe we could do something together."

"Uchida-kun will be at the cruise again, I heard, but Mr. Nitta is a friend. And I'll ask Student President to lend her sister; she'd been with you, too, right?"

So the following day Granny began to contact everybody; the Nittas promised Anju but she never did come. Kubo's phone, for some reason, was out of reach.

Eventually Grandma took to closing her office earlier and personally watching over her grandson, making sure he finished as much backlog as he humanly could. They managed to get by, and Yoshiyuki would pass all the tests necessary to move out of second year.

Early the next year, to his mild surprise, Kanako began to warm up to him. She would shyly offer him her lunchbox from time to time, and whenever they passed each other somewhere she would wave or nod briefly at him, although Ai was still reserved. But he still didn't get any e-mail from her even though he didn't bother to change his number the whole time. She must have assumed he would automatically do so with the cutting of ties in their first year and with the passage of such a long time.

Meanwhile, he went on burying himself in manga and had to be given worksheets again.

One May afternoon when school was out, he was startled to find her at the gate waiting for him. She asked to walk with him for a bit, saying Ai was going to the convenience store with her classmates.

"Did she finally ditch you, too?" he said.

"So that's the very first thing you ask me after a century, zura. Do I have a monopoly on her?"

For a moment Yoshiyuki tried to figure out if she deliberately echoed Anju and was here to castigate him. But she was her old self now, zura and all, so he just shrugged. "Let's go. If you have to say something say it quick."

He walked her to the bus stop. "You think we can still revive Aquasports?" she asked.

What's with her all of a sudden? "Isn't it a bit late?"

"There's still the three of us—the original core, zura."

He raised an eyebrow. "So?"

"Uhhhh, we're a seed for something new! Look, we can even rebrand ourselves!" She showed a manga she drew up. "All nine of us! We're ROCKET PUNCH! FOO! LOVE PAWAAAA!"

He snatched the thing and whacked her with it. "Why did you put me in a sailor suit?!"

"I was gonna give it to Lantis, zura!"

"Are you drunk?!"

"Urrrgh…"

"You only copied this from Anchan!"

"Eh so what?" She said snatching it back. "We'll contact Mori-senpai so she can again teach us to fight—I-I mean dive. Even just the three of us."

"But the minimum membership is four, isn't it?"

"That's why we must recruit underclassmen!"

He sobered up a bit. "I hear the enrollment is going to dry up."

"…"

"They say people have stopped coming to the islands and the grade-school and middle-school kids are taught in the same two-room building now."

A shadow fell on her face. "So it's all hopeless," she said softly.

"You actually believe Aquasports will go on forever?"

She paused to gather her thoughts. "You do know An-chan and Shuka-chan have graduated, am I right?"

He almost didn't. Most of the time he was suppressing any and all thought of the club with his manga and games. "Yeah…?"

"You know, even if… even if we have disbanded, I never truly believed the club will be gone, zura. So long as An-chan and Shuka-chan were around, I can always expect them to, well, maybe they'll contact us again or something. I kept drawing comfort from their presence even if they were distant. But now… If we don't this, no one else will, I'm sure."

You're still holding on to the dream? "What's the use? We'll be gone by the end of the year, too."

Kanako held her breath. This was the one thing she was trying to put out of her mind.

"If you said this last year," he continued, "it could have worked out even without Anju and Shuka."

"If only Rika-chan didn't go away…"

"If only that entitled scumbag didn't butt in."

"Eh?"

He stared at her as though she fell through a hole. Don't you remember? "Ehem. Never mind. Let's get some fruit coolers."

They went ahead in silence, but she looked even more troubled as they walked on. "Yoshiyuki."

"Hm?"

"I… I can't just leave it like that. I don't know, maybe it's because my first year in Nankaisei was also the year I got into the club. But I really believed there will always be an Aquasports, well, as long there's a Nankaisei. It's not bad to want that… right?"

It wasn't a matter of good or bad, however, but of time. Since that conversation the year marched on, with grandma yet struggling to haul Yoshiyuki to the study table, and in the end he and Kanako and Ai graduated, albeit with a distressingly low mark on his record, just barely passing. "You're not going anywhere far with that," he heard Grandma mutter once, her top university hopes dealt a massive blow. How will he fare if he must take the national exam?

But there won't be any more papers to finish this time around. He can have unlimited hours in his room…

Until one day toward the end of spring, when his interest in anime had faded.

It was probably just another brief spell of tiring of the same thing over and over, but within that window of time he of his own came to be aware of his situation—he had graduated, he needed to go on to some next stage, and he probably won't be able to pull off what others were doing in Tokyo and elsewhere: being a lifelong recluse fed by parents. He wasn't sure grandma's little agency can reasonably support two people on the order of decades, if indeed there are even decades to come.

"If something happens to me…"

Grandma herself was quick to notice the moments he spent on the porch gazing out to the ocean. She smiled to herself, savoring her little victory of finally getting him onboard. He must be awfully confused now about what to do next. All she had to do was step in.

Or perhaps, she should just let him decide himself. He isn't exactly a kid anymore now that he's out of high school. If he can pull himself away from his room on his own now…

"…"

Nah.

The following Tuesday, in her typical indirect style she early in the morning left an envelope atop the pile of comics on the floor next to his bed. Sure enough, Yoshiyuki saw it, saw the contents, and rushed straight to her office. "What's the meaning of this?!" he roared throwing the tickets and the yen bills on her desk. "Where do you think you're sending me?!"

"Shouldn't it be obvious?" she smirked. "It took me a while to find a boat direct to Tokyo, you know, you should get me a little pudding for the trouble."

"I'm not toying around!"

"Well, neither am I. I don't have the money for Disneyland so there's only one place in Tokyo you can go to."

"You can't do this! I'm not going back!"

"They can help you, Yoshiyuki. Your father has connections in his old university who own a small company. At least you can get an entry job. You gotta start small, young man, your grades are unimpressive. And your mother has her own friends. If I remember right, both of them had met Dr. Albright in high school, who knows the places you can go if only she was living here instead of me."

His blood boiled at the mention of his mother. "You really want it," he said coldly. "You want me to go right back into that woman's womb!"

"Well, whose womb do you want to go back into? Mine?"

He rushed behind the desk and pulled up his grandmother by the collar. "I'm awful tired of your pushing me around. I will call the shots on where I'm going. Am I clear?!"

She can't help but let the venom seep into her voice. "Well… I'm glad…" She trained her eyes on him a terrifying demonic gaze. Yoshiyuki can pull that look when he's serious, in fact, it had impressed his yakuza bosses back in Tokyo. He was stunned to find out where exactly he got that knack from.

"I appreciate that spine of yours. I wish you would use that in actually landing a job. If you can. Ne, Yoshiyuki-san?"

-san…?

Flustered, he shoved back the old seat in her seat and took the tickets and the money. "Listen," he said breathing heavily, "I will go to Tokyo if that's what you want… but I will go off somewhere else as soon as I step on the port. Tokyo is large and I don't have to pass by that house. You shall not give a spit where I'm going. I do not have a mother, and since you said it yourself, I do not have a grandmother anymore, as well."

He swept out of the office and began to pack up right away. He stripped his room of every last thing that was his; there wasn't much, his eviction from Tokyo had been a hasty affair. The mattress and the tatami panels were Granny's, though he included one of the the tatami unthinkingly. It took all of a full hour from the moment he left the door of her office to the moment he left the door of her house. And the whole time Granny buried her head in her tired hands.

He made for Rikako's old house in the woods and broke down the flimsier backdoor with a well-placed kick. He set up the tatami on the floor by the grand piano and began making plans as he lay down for the rest of the day. If he wasn't mistaken the farthest the bullet train went was Hakodate, and then, he could go on to Sapporo, as far away from his family and his mother as he possibly could, fake his age, and a get a job, any job he could with his own hands.

"…"

Rikako's house was still empty as ever.

"…"

"…"

Perhaps he should have a little word with Miss Nanjou first, and pad up his work experience for the mainland while he's at it.

The ferry to Okaa-san will be leaving at one.

The loud clanging of a metal rod banging against the steel frame of the bunks threw everybody off of bed, save Yoshiyuki, who was still fitfully dragging himself out of his bunk, which was on top. "On your feet, you!" yelled the supervisor beating the thing just a few inches shy of him. Tch— It's only four in the morning. He never quite expected a bootcamp in such a posh hotel. "Look at yourself, kid!" the man continued. "You're the one trespassing on us like a hobo and now you sleep like this is your place!"

He keeps regurgitating some version of this same tirade every single morning—which was true. When he first stepped onto Piazza there was no vacancy anywhere so he hung out at the parking area for the delivery trucks and washed them despite being told off every so often.

Anyway, the deliverymen were pleased and asked the supervisor to look into him. Whereupon he took Yoshiyuki aside and told him he'll be admitted only as a "trainee." No pay, only bed and breakfast and maybe a recommendation letter for his next job-hopping, if he was good enough.

The price for this paltry deal was his very soul, it seemed; the place was far more regimented and pressured than Nankaisei's wildest fantasies. Five hours of lifting and stacking in the pantry and other storage areas in the morning, and five again in the afternoon till evening, punctuated by breakfast and lunch of only twenty minutes each. But the food was good and he was able to save his money and his tickets. And he was proud to get by on his own. Who needs "connections?"

But he was starting to forget what took him there to begin with. If Anna Nanjou was going to take over the hotel, she should be lurking around here someplace. There wasn't a shadow of her so far.

"Missy's staying over at the house," said the middle-aged guy in the bunk below his, referring to the mansion he and the club visited once, entering via the secluded "street gate." There's no way he could barge in through there, of course. "I heard," he went on, "something happened to her in Italy. Tsk, tsk. Women these days are a little easy."

He knew better, of course, but felt she deserved it. "Lucky guy. Wish I knew how he got to Missy." And they shared a cheap laugh over it.

"You're a little daring, kid," remarked the man, "having a taste for unreachable lassies."

"Don't you? I thought everybody does."

Cackle. "Of course, of course. That's why we have fairy tales, poor chap wins the hand of the princess, girl in rags catches the eye of the prince."

"It happens in real life, though."

"So you do have a plan to get her."

"…"

The man made another snort-guffaw. It gets on his nerves a little. "No worries, kid, I'll get you the juicy stuff as soon as I pick up any."

Yoshiyuki rolled over and didn't answer. The fellow didn't sound like somebody to somebody meant to be taken seriously. But he didn't want the slightest possibility of Anna catching wind of someone out to "get her." He wanted to appear out of nowhere in her room or wherever, curse her to her face, and vanish like a nightmare, and then go off to the mainland relishing the thought of her losing sleep over her crime of ruining Aquasports.

In the following days the supervisor charged the man, who was an early riser, to wake up Yoshiyuki in his stead, which he did by pulling away Yoshiyuki's blankets and pillows. As soon as Yoshiyuki showed any signs of discomfort, he would shine a LED flashlight in his face. From then on, the two would be on whatever lowly task was their due for the day. Including cleaning the latrines.

"You haven't told me who you are," said Yoshiyuki as he scrubbed the tiles. "What do I call you?"

"Dale would be fine."

"Dale? Are you a high school punk or something?" Taking on American monikers like that.

"Well. If that bothers you so much, I think I'll just call you Kenneth."

Yoshiyuki only turned away. The old bloke was being silly again. To be sure, though, he was not interested in letting his actual name slip out too often. "Yohan will do."

"Then Yohan it is."

They weren't always together. Every other day Dale was stationed to some far-off corner of the hotel as was usual for low-ranking grunts like them who didn't have a proper job designation. A few times the man wasn't even in his bunk. Is he going to have to sleep in the open eventually, as well? Regardless, the man always came back early in the morning to wave the flashlight at him and ease him out of bed. Was he taking his his ad hoc duty of guardian a little too seriously? Oh well. If he didn't keep it up, the metal rod will be back, probably.

Dale felt sorry Yoshiyuki didn't receive any pay. At the table he would often give him about half his meal and sometimes all of his tea, as well. Yoshiyuki, who was neither bent on rejecting his insistent kindness, nor keen on receiving pity, one time offered Dale his ticket. "I don't have anything to Tokyo for," laughed Dale. "My family is in Kamakura and I have a piece of land in a mountain somewhere. You kids are the ones who like Akiba and all; maybe you have a crush on one of them space girls or whatever you call them… Moose, I think? Wait, isn't moose an animal? Why'd 'ya even call a bunch of lassies like that? I didn't get the rights of it, son, excuse me for not being young enough to know."

Anju will kill you if she heard you right now, thought Yoshiyuki. Gah, why did you remind me of them? I think I'll just do it for her.

At one point Yoshiyuki was sent back to the pantry to stand in for an employee downed by a hangover. This time he was stocking fridges. It half-amazed him how something so mundane at home turned into a veritable nightmare at work, akin to operating a power plant. He handled about three separate clipboards each with a frightening checklists of items. He managed somehow, and even the pantry boss was secretly impressed. So they sent him again the next day. Now he only had to check a single large fridge full of specialty items. He quickly acquainted himself with about twenty different exotic foodstuffs almost all of which he had never heard of before.

There was a snag though.

That night he turned to the only source he could avail of about Anna or anything else. "Abalone?" mused Dale mildly surprised. "They don't have it? But there's plenty around here. If you have been here for a year I'm sure you must have seen it somewhere."

Oh, he had seen it, alright, at a certain kitchen back in Otou-san, back when he was in high school. "Maybe the tourists snapped it all up?"

"No, that can't be. They probably weren't good at finding… Oh, I get it now. People out here catch the stuff right before peak season and hoard it in cold storage for as long as they can, and if they can't anymore they'll feed it to the ducks rather than let anyone know. Even if they caught a lot they sell it a little at a time to make it look rare and jack up the price, especially to outsiders. Tch. They can't do this to Piazza! Guess I'll have to contact my asset.

"You know someone?"

"Why of course! I may not look it, but I'm really a global database. In fact, here and now I can guarantee you I have at least an 85.88% knowledge of everything that goes on in these islands."

And he didn't care. "How much are they asking?"

"Well, they're not really fisherfolk, so they can sell their stock at a bargain to us. But they do get picky about whom they sell to. They give perks to off-season tourists 'cause they encourage people to come in numbers year-round. Otherwise they sell only to Piazza."

"A business?"

"A dive shop. Listen. In this same island there's a pretty little bay. It is more directly accessible from the island's own harbor, not really from here, you'd probably not find it at once if you did. I go there, like, every other month. There's this awesome guy, ehh, maybe ten years older than me, a senior, but still flexes a lot like he's in his twenties. He's a really jolly chap once you get to know him."

"…"

"And…" This, with a silly little grin… "Mm-hm! He's got a sweet sweet lady at his side. His grandkid, I think."

"…"

She sometimes teaches a bit of swimming at the high school on Otou-san so she's probably muscular, too, but you'll neeeever suspect that at first sight because she's so sweet she belongs to a bakeshop rather than a dive shop. Ah, she needs a candy costume!"

Yoshiyuki conjured up an image of said girl singing in a music video, in a maid outfit, and then in a cupcake/parfait costume with a gigantic cherry on her head. Carrying macarons and ice cream cones and stuff. Wink.

Are you ready?

Just what are these things people had been hallucinating about of late? First there was Kanako's manga flick and now this. Next thing he'll hear about—

Cupcake PUNCH!

"You'd think I'd have a chance with her?" Dale continued. "I been divorced for five years already, maybe it's time I remarried."

"…"

Well. How to put this?

"I don't mean to pry," said Yoshiyuki, "but didn't you say the very same things about your ex-wife."

"Hah?"

"The… gorgeous part, I mean."

He made a small face. "Well, I admit I did think her more than a bit pretty. Kinda like that actress in Izu no Odoriko. But… well, we did have a big fight 'cause I had a fling back in the day."

"And she sacked you?"

He shrugged. "I think. We stopped talking and I left and… But the kids have flown the nest so I guess it's OK."

"And you never checked on her since?"

"I figure she won't be so interested, so—hey, you're not interrogating me, are 'ya?"

"I am. If your children are grown up you must have been with your ex-wife for at least twenty or twenty-five years. And you broke up just five years ago? I don't think she'd be that disinterested."

"Well—we grew tired of each other, twenty-five years together is a loooong time."

"It's a long time for a pair of shoes. I always thought human bonds only grew stronger. Or so they say?"

Dale paused to scratch his nape. "I don't know."

"If your last fling was five years ago and you want to remarry now, then that means you're catching a syndrome which requires you to change wives every five years."

"Uh-huh…"

"If I were you I'd go for the least effort and stay with somebody who lasts for twenty-five. It's a great bargain."

"Now you're the one treating women like a pair of shoes!"

"I was basing on the facts of your case!"

"…"

"Most importantly," he said softly, "I really do think she's just waiting for you to talk to her again."

Dale scratched his nape and finally decided Yoshiyuki was just pulling his leg. "Bah, enough of your theories! You're only trying to keep the good stuff away from me. Or maaaaybe you just want the babe for yourself. Hah! Admit it, Yohan! You will not theorize me out of my woman."

"…"

"Wait. Do you by any chance know the dive shop owner?"

He held up his hands. "I didn't say anything."

"You do! Admit it Yohan! You talked to the babe. You know her! Listen, if you make a move on my babe, no more Nanjou intel, forever!"

"You're trying to scare me out of both Miss Babe and Miss Nanjou. Make up your mind who I really want."

"Who knows if you're a bigamist?!"

"Bigamist, sure. With you at the lead, we'd make a great fling team."

"I'm warning you, Yohan boy, Babe is my territory! You steer clear of her if you want to stay in my good graces. And he left the room in a huff.

Welp, there goes his abalone agent.

Yoshiyuki remained in Dale's good graces although he never received word about his progress with Nanaka. He wouldn't have time for that as the workload became more hectic as summer wore on, what with the cruise calls for the year and an international symposium to boot, and no Anna in sight. He began to make plans on where to go next. His ticket was still intact, for a once-in-a-blue-moon trip, it had a longer expiration, but he realized his money will expire faster and he better start with somewhere closer to Tokyo for the time being—maybe Miyagi. What job would he land with a hotel experience? Another hotel? If so, then shouldn't he just work his way up the ranks here? Maybe the cruise pays better? Maybe he'll run into Shuka somewhere? What if he tried a short course or something? Perhaps he'll get a better job. Gah. Such an illusion of choice, for somebody as lowly as him.

While he's at it, time caught up with him. He turned eighteen.

"Come on," said Dale pointing the snout of the gin bottle at him. They sat atop the steps leading down to the hotel's expansive wharf where a few yachts were moored. His birthday was Sunday, day before yesterday, but now was the only chance to celebrate as they were granted a day-off for tomorrow. The hotel let go of them at ten, however, so it was almost midnight. "You can't swig out of a bottle, son?"

"No, I just, this is my first time." In ages, actually; alcohol breath was one of the things that gave him away to his folks back in Tokyo.

"It's all the better, then," he said still pointing the bottle at him. "First time's always the most memorable." He poured him a glass. "There. This one's just for you. Alright, cheers, cheers!"

The odor of liquor assaulted his nostrils. This is probably not going to end well, but whatever, he's free from Grandma now. He gulped—and promptly retched. Dale had to really make it strong, huh?

"You OK, kid?"

"I'm…" Cough, cough. "I'm fine…" Cough. "That's all for tonight, I guess."

"Bah, don't be a spoilsport, it's your big day! Here, I get you a smaller dose, take it one at a time, OK?"

"It's fine." He noticed the waterline just a couple of yards below them. It certainly won't do to get used to it again.

"Tch. You're still a wee kid." He took a swig form the bottle, coughed a bit, and laughed. "Beats slaving away all day, Ne, Yohan-tan?"

After that, however, he calmed down and looked out to sea. "Eh, its's no good doing this by my lonesome." He reverted to drinking from the glass. "You sure you really don't want some?" Gulp. Gulp. Sigh. "Miyako hated my drinking."

"Hm?"

"I been thinking about what you said last time. I texted her. She… She answered back after a couple e-mails. Called me a coward not to actually call. But if I call she'd demand me to give up alcohol. I'm sure of it."

"…"

"Bah, women! That's the difference between marrying and not: if not it's wine and women, if so it's wine or women. Woman, I mean." Spit. "You make a note to yourself never to marry, 'ya hear?"

He downed his second glass. "But I do miss her…"

The night breeze blew in and fanned them while they took a few more shots. Yoshiyuki stretched to enjoy the cool. It was eminently sweet to drink the night air.

After a while he noticed the man's eyes glaze over. He should probably escort the man to bed before he gets himself off the wharf.

"Yohan-tan!"

"Hiiiiiiiiii—!"

"I been everywhere. Here in te hotel, and up zerr in ze mounten. I've seen Mizzy more than once over there. I'm sure ze menejment will send me beck over and over. Know what? I'll make a bizniz. I can be a rumor mill for ze tabloids in Numazu. I'll even make up a few. Like Miss Babe iz into Mizzy Nenjou and all? Not bad, not bad!

"And… And I'll make sure to tell 'ya all ze plazes Mizzy hangs out. Iz all up zerr in ze mounten."

He immediately perked up at this. He'd likely forget as soon as he gets drunk enough so he nagged him for details. He got a waiter's pad and made a rough map of everything out of every utterance that rolled off of Dale's whiskey-smelling mouth. At the end of it Dale finally began to nod off and he helped him all the way back to the barracks.

That afternoon the following day Yoshiyuki went up to a co-worker who was also off-duty while Dale snoozed the day away in his bunk. They had a hard time making sense of the rather confused sketch and even more confused notes scribbled awkwardly all over both margins of the pad, as a result of Dale's inebriated ramblings. He made a note to himself never to talk to anyone even remotely intoxicated ever again.

With the newly-rationalized map he then presented himself to the supervisor and volunteered to substitute for him in those places, stating he wasn't sure if he'd completely get out of his hangover by tomorrow. With a mutter of complaint about Dale and a few corrections to the map, the man agreed and swapped their assignments, keeping Dale within the hotel under his watchful eye, and away from the more potentially embarrassing up in the mountain with the premium guests and the Nanjous themselves.

Early the next morning, even before Dale could stir, Yoshiyuki left the barracks with a weird sense of anticipation. Weird, because he wasn't supposed to be excited seeing someone he was planning to shame. Was it just a holdover from his old longing for Aquasports, that he'd jump at the chance to see anyone with the slightest connection to it? But, he told himself, it will be all over, all ties to the club will be severed with finality once he rejects the very last reminder of Aquasports to her face.

His assignment for the day was to spray some pesticide from a can at the greenery along the driveways and footpaths all over the exclusive complex. Now, neither his post nor the map took him anywhere near the resort residences nor to anywhere close to the Nanjou residence, a stark contrast to the club's direct access in the old days, and he was already unnerved by the nigh-invisible cameras poking from the bush here and there, as well as the occasional security roving just within sight. He wondered what sort of scandalous behavior Anna might bother to indulge herself in, out here where the bushes have eyes, and whether the "rumor mill" was just a drunken boast.

Nevertheless, he had been wandering around the spots where Anna was said to have been sighted, and still there was nary a scent of her. This was going to be tougher than he surmised. Maybe he should just leave a threatening note or something, the security may well bring it straight to the Nanjous and wreak panic. Though that means he'll have to spend some more time out here crafting an appropriate message.

He turned down a side path hoping to stumble into a backdoor. He soon found himself in a mazelike area where the hedges grew taller than him and closed in till barely two people could squeeze through side-by-side. Funny, Dale never mentioned this place. He didn't notice any cameras, either, though he thought somebody else was walking around. He can't stay here for too long.

He noticed something hanging from a branch in the bush.

Oh. A cup of Hargen Darch.

He took his time to enjoy it while he planned his next move. Some maid probably stuck it here, thinking nobody would dare get lost in here and find her loot.

"This is nice taste! Ohohohoho~"

Hey snap out of it! There's no way he's going to behave like that tyrant.

Now, what kind of harangue will get under Anna's skin? "I hope you're satisfied now that you have destroyed the dreams of us lowly mortals." Chomp. "We are nothing but an afterthought to the one percent." Mmmm. "The likes of you assume you the rest of humanity. But now, by the powers of Yohan I call down a plague on you, so that, though you fancied yourself a god, you will feel a very human chill down your spine." Mmmm. "Before this day is over, the world will know…" Mmmm. "…that even a god-king can bleed." He finished the ice cream and flung the cup aside in a flourish. "You call yourself immortal, but I will put your name to the test!"

Wha—!

Somebody yanked him into the hedge.

"Don't make a sound!" hissed Anna cupping a hand over his mouth. After a tense moment of listening for any intruders, she sighed in relief and then looked him over. "What are you doing here, Yoshiyuki?! There's plain-clothes security in this area!"

"You gotta answer me first why we're inside a bush. You're planning to molest me!"

Slap.

"How'd you even get here?!" she continued. "Who hired you? And… What were you goofing about just now? You're so loud, you know that?"

They only stared at each other wild-eyed for a good while until her phone rang. It was a bodyguard warning her of a drunk trespasser somewhere in the vicinity. "It's fine; I saw him, too. He got away already, due south. Please check the carpark to be sure." After she hung up she spent another five to ten minutes listening for any movement. And then she pushed him out of the hedge.

"Take the next turn east and follow it all the way to the stone fountain," she instructed form the bush. "Follow the cobblestone trail from there to the entrance of the hotel's spa. And don't look back!" When she hesitated, she threw leaves at him. "Go! Scram! Shoo!" She watched him stagger back and make his escape. As soon as he left, she leaned back and closed her eyes with a pained expression. She did know what he was "goofing" about. "One percent, huh? I knew it. They're blaming me. Rika-chan…"

Yoshiyuki finally got to the spa and looked around to see if there was anyone around. He sat down catching his breath, reproaching himself for the botched operation. How could he possibly get close enough to her again?! Is he now going to make do with leaving notes when he could have seen her squirm firsthand? Yoshiyuki, you idiot! he said to himself. I gotta return there. I'll find a way to her bedroom. Even if it gets me jailed.

"…"

Wait… That would be no good. He still has his eye on the mainland.

After a while he composed himself and decided he'll pretend for now that nothing happened.

Next Time! #13. Storm of the Heart