A/N: Well, here we are. Not too sure what to say. It's over folks—this is the last chapter. Thank you for sticking around for this long and reading through over 60 chapters of my self-indulgence. Thank you especially to Blue and Jelly. You guys rock. Also a special mention for Lena—without you, boytoy would've just stayed in my notes.

July 4th, 2018

The dorm was spacious. As soon as she entered the door, she found herself confronted by the living area. Another girl was already there and figuring how the remote control worked. She looked up as she entered. "Hey! You must be one of my new roommates."

She nodded, enthusiastic. "That's right! My name is Yamamoto Akane—it's nice to meet you!"

The other girl held out a hand, which Akane took. "It's nice to meet you, too. I'm Makoshima Sumire. You a first year?"

"Second year," clarified Akane. "What about you?"

"I'm postgrad."

"Oh! So you're a senpai, then."

"Ah..." Sumire scratched her cheek. "Don't worry about all that stuff. Formalities take the fun outta everything."

Their other two roommates—both girls—arrived soon after. They all got introduced to one another. Sumire was the oldest out of the girls, and she quickly took charge of the discussion, though it was evident she didn't take her newfound social position too seriously.

They picked out their beds—Sumire and Akane both got saddled with the top bunks.

While the other girls unpacked and continued their conversation, Akane climbed into her top bunk to put down her pillow and blankets. A comfortable bed was very important for a good night's sleep, as her good friend Haiba Alisa had once told her.

As she fluffed her pillow, the conversation in the living area waning into the background, she noticed writing on the wall, near the ceiling. Huh? Did someone do that? Why?

She stood on her knees to get a closer look.

The words weren't proper sentences, but rather just names.

Kindaichi Yuutarou

Kunimi Akira

Yahaba Shigeru

Goshiki Tsutomu

Akane muttered the names under her breath.

Of course, the dorm had belonged to others before she and the girls came. Had they not wanted to be forgotten? Was there some sort of significance behind the words? She didn't know why, but she felt a lingering sadness in them.

'Don't forget us'.

'We were here, too'.

"Hmm..." Akane gazed at the words before being interrupted.

"Akane!" called Sumire. "Come down, we're about to start playing twenty questions!"

"Oh! Coming!"

July 17th, 2018

Arms stretched in the air as the students filed out of the lecture hall, excitedly sharing the answers they had penned down on today's mock exam. Some were less enthused, complaining of how they'd thought they'd left mock exams behind in high school, while others left immediately without bothering with conversation. A few planned outings at the local barbecue restaurant to celebrate the completion of an intensive week of exams, completely forgetting that their real exams were coming up very soon.

Law could be absolutely soul-sucking sometimes. Kindaichi didn't fault them for wanting to drink away their stress and fill their stomachs with delicious meat. He lingered outside the theatre, holding his books to his chest as to lighten the load in his backpack. It had been open book—Kindaichi had brought in as many non-electronic resources as he'd been allowed to.

Now, he was waiting.

It was a little embarrassing to admit, actually. Things like this always were.

Kindaichi was waiting for—

"Yuutarou-kun!"

Kindaichi beamed. "Shino-chan!"

Iwasaki Shino, his girlfriend since late June, trotted up to him with a cake box.

If Kunimi were here, Kindaichi knew that he would pretend to violently barf all over the floor. Well, that guy could go fuck himself because Kindaichi's sweet, adorable girlfriend was simply worth all the initial shyness.

"How was the test?" Shino asked as they fell into stride together.

"Awful," Kindaichi groused. "I feel like I only got, like, seventy percent of it right."

"You'll do great." Shino intertwined their fingers, her free hand balancing the cake box. "Guess what flavor I got you."

"Uhh, chocolate?"

"Close enough. It's red velvet!"

"Uwoh! You went all out today, Shino-chan!"

Kunimi would have likely joined them just to be a nuisance of a third-wheel today had he not been finishing up his latest thesis. It was due to be submitted tomorrow; he'd been working on it all semester and not even the opportunity to tease Kindaichi would tear him away from his laptop. Mitsuhara Otome probably would be a better person to engage in intellectual discussion with, anyway.

Normally, Kindaichi would be leaping for joy at the chance of spending some time with Shino. Ever since he had rescued her in May, they'd started seeing each other more and more often. Naturally, it had developed into a relationship. But today...

"Are you okay, Yuutarou-kun? You seem a little down."

"Ah, well..." Kindaichi smiled weakly. "I'm going back to Miyagi on the twentieth..."

"Oh?" Shino gave him a curious look. "What's wrong with that?"

There was nothing, in truth, inherently wrong with visiting home. Kindaichi had been back to Miyagi twice this year already—once with his old roommates before the spring semester commenced and once more after he'd been shot on the rooftop.

His shoulder twinged at the reminder. It would bother him on and off for the rest of his life.

"Everyone's coming," Kindaichi said, quietly. "All the old boys from Seijoh."

Shino was smart enough to infer what he meant. "So you'll be saying goodbye."

Oikawa's name hung in the air between them. Kindaichi made no move to address it, however, instead glancing heavenward. The trees were already starting to brown. Autumn was coming in, and soon after that would be winter. It's all gone by so fast. It'd already been nearly two months since Shō had been sentenced to death. The fate of Daizen's corrupt associates was a little more complicated, the investigation into their corruption still ongoing. It was a losing battle, but Daizen fought with great vigor to make things as difficult as possible for the police and the prosecutors. Miyazawa had gotten off relatively easier—a suspended prison sentence and orders to never practice again, which didn't matter much as Miyazawa had been on the verge of retirement anyway. There was some news on Noriko, too—her circumstances had been taken into consideration and her sentence was light. Rehabilitation-focused rather than punishment-focused.

Earlier this year, he'd been hunting a murderer.

Now the biggest thing on his plate was exam week, so laughably insignificant in comparison.

The world certainly worked in strange ways.

"What if I'm not ready?" Kindaichi sighed, something cold and icy coiling in the pit of his stomach as he envisioned himself in front of the abyss, Oikawa's peaceful face floating in the darkness. "What if I totally lose my shit?"

Shino appraised him. "We're never ready for these sorts of things. It's okay to cry and scream if you need to, you know. Don't be afraid to show how much he meant to you—I'm sure the others will," her smile turned a little sad, "'lose their shit', too. Yuutarou-kun... You're not alone."

No. He wasn't, was he?

"Thank you," he said, honestly.

He leaned in for a kiss, one she gladly reciprocated.

July 18th, 2018

There was a mild halation surrounding the meadow. Sakusa found that the soil and the grass were soft underfoot as he got out of his car, closing the door. Nearby, Midorima was also parked along the dirt trail cutting through the field. He was donning something more casual than his usual suits—a pressed white shirt, sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms, and dark slacks.

Midorima looked him up and down—took in his neon green polo shirt and khaki jeans. "Hmm..."

"What?" Sakusa lifted a brow. "Do I have something on my face?" It was one of the rare times that Sakusa had opted out of wearing his mask. After all, they were basically in the middle of nowhere with no dirty crowds for miles.

"No." Midorima's lips quirked up in a smile. "I was just thinking—your true fashion sense hasn't changed at all."

"Oh, shut up," he grumbled, kicking a loose pebble with the toe of his shoe. "Why did you call me out here? Specifically, why all the way out here?"

"I thought it would be nice. We had a lot of good moments here together as children."

"Huh. I didn't think take you as the type to reminisce..."

Midorima shook his head. "I'm not. But with you, I can't help but reminisce anyway."

Sakusa could recall the times. The times they had lay down next to each other on picnic blankets, Midorima rambling about star signs and luck and Sakusa doing his best not to let the good weather lull him to sleep. Midorima teaching him about the different types of clouds in the sky and none of the information retaining in Sakusa's brain. You're surprisingly tender-hearted, Midorima. He breathed a sigh. "They were good times," he admitted, begrudgingly. Some of the best times of my life.

"I knew you'd agree."

And he didn't know why exactly he had to say this, but he just did. "I was never jealous. But," he glared at him, "It hurt. When you cast me aside for her. Like some used toy."

Midorima dropped his gaze. "I didn't realize," he murmured. "That you felt that way. I'm sorry."

"Are you? When... have you ever been sorry for anything?"

"You'd be surprised."

Another innocent pebble flew through the air, courtesy of Sakusa's foot. "How's your wife?"

"Recovering," Midorima reported, looking mildly pleased that the subject of conversation had shifted to her. "We go in and out of the centre every day. She burned her uniform last night. It's a step forward."

"Uniform?"

"Her Karasuno one," elaborated Midorima. "According to the counselor, there's a lot of trauma attached to it. Her father... He'd make her dress up in it. Do things in it. As you know, Daizen and my father were responsible for the National Youth Offender's Rehabilitation Program." It'd just been another layer of lies for Daizen to obscure himself in. "There was a boy in high school he made Noriko follow around undercover as a student. She hated it. Said it made her feel perverted." His jaw tightened. "That bastard ruined her life."

"And many more," mused Sakusa. "I'm ashamed my father ever associated himself with him."

"I would think the same, but I wouldn't have ever met Noriko if..."

"Yeah. I get it. It's funny, seeing you like this. So out of your depth." He chuckled, humorless. "For the longest time, I thought of you as infallible."

Midorima studied him for a little bit. Studied the faintest crease on his forehead, the way his shoulders hunched, and the way he was scraping the sole of his expensive shoe against the dirt. "They say to never meet your heroes," he said, finally. "Have I fallen from grace in your eyes?"

"You were my hero," Sakusa answered. "But now I see that you are just a man."

A slow smile crept up his cheeks. "I see. Not terrible for a lying liar, huh?"

"You had your reasons."

"I had choices," amended Midorima.

"Yes. And I know now that—every time—you would choose Noriko over me. You're going to keep chasing after her, because that's the sort of sentimental, lovesick fool you are." I only wish that I hadn't wasted so much time on you.

He did not deny it. "That's true."

Sakusa tilted his head slightly. "Is this goodbye forever?" That's what you dragged me all the way out here for, isn't it? For one last goodbye.

"That'd probably be for the best. But only if you want it that way."

He seemed to consider this, his brow lowering and his nose scrunching up in frustration. Then, all the tension eased out of his face, and his shoulders loosened. "Go. Go after her. And don't look back."

Midorima bowed his head. "Thank you. Goodbye, Kiyoomi."

Sakusa held out his hand and looked skyward, feeling the first few droplets of rain wet his palm. Then he met Midorima's gaze, nodding sharply. "Goodbye… Shintaro."

Midorima disappeared into his car, sticking his arm out the driver-side window in a final farewell. The window rolled up soon after, leaving Sakusa alone to gaze after the taillights.

Silently, Sakusa ducked into his own vehicle. Before he set off, he leaned across and opened the glove box, where he found today's Oha Asa. For a few seconds, he just stared at it. Then he crumpled it up into a ball, tossing it on the passenger seat and making note to chuck it in the trash when he got home.

July 19th, 2018

"How the fuck did they find where we live?"

That was the first thing Iwaizumi heard when he got home from his morning jog, a sheen of sweat slick on his forehead. Satoshi had been the one to utter the words—and rather darkly, at that—standing over the kitchen table with a pile of letters he had retrieved from the mailbox. "What's that? Fan mail?" he joked. Satoshi had grown up to be quite the handsome young man—whenever Sunano Mina came over for dinner, she would rant and ramble on about how she had to beat other girls off with a stick on a regular basis.

"Fan mail?" Satoshi held a letter up, scowling. "Yeah, right. This isn't the 2000s, old man."

"Oi. Watch who you're calling old," Iwaizumi threatened before pouring himself a glass of orange juice from the fridge. "You kids with all your fancy emails..."

"Text messages," stressed Satoshi. "Nobody sends emails anymore."

Iwaizumi shrugged. "I wouldn't know." And he meant it. He had missed out on six years of technological development.

Satoshi realized this as well, having the decency to look shame-faced before mumbling, "Well, you'll have plenty of time to catch up. I'm not letting my brother become some... some boomer."

"'Boomer'? Is that new slang you kids made up?"

Satoshi didn't answer his question, opting instead to shove one of the letters in his face. "Look at all this horseshit! Apologies? From literal strangers? What kind of idiotic cuntface would send us this? People are fucking stupid."

His little brother had a horrible case of what Mina had coined gamer mouth, Iwaizumi thought, but it made something in his chest clench to see the empty words on paper. Evidently, there were people out there who weren't able to sleep at night knowing that they had played some part in denouncing their family. It was truly pathetic. "Just throw it away," he sighed.

"I'll burn it in the garden," Satoshi proclaimed, full of vitriol.

"Nope. No fire. Mom and dad will kill us."

Iwaizumi had been living in his parents' house in Kosaka for the past one and a half months. It had only been the natural move to make. Prior to that, he'd been heavily compensated for his time served as an innocent man—he was now rich enough to live out the rest of his life without having to lift a finger. Not that he had any plans to just sit on his ass. I want a degree. A job. The last six years back. Not... a pile of cash. No amount of money would ever be able to buy back the years he had lost—would be able to buy back the only man he had ever loved.

The orange juice sloshed in his cup as he set it down on the kitchen counter.

Satoshi gave him a hesitant glance. "You good?"

"Yeah. Just thinking about tomorrow."

Naoko had been the one to reconnect him with the rest of their former classmates. Well—the ones that had really mattered, anyway. Matsukawa, Yuda, Yahaba, Kyoutani, Watari, Kindaichi, Kunimi... She hadn't bothered with Sawauchi and Shido. Perhaps it was for the better—Iwaizumi hadn't been very close to them, anyway. Had never found much need to interact with them outside of the court—that'd been Oikawa's job.

He didn't want to think about what had happened Hanamaki. Matsukawa had told him over the phone, before they'd even gotten a chance to meet face-to-face. He couldn't recall if he had cried that night or not.

Only a heavy numbness remained now, clinging to him like a spectre.

Tomorrow, they would all be heading down to Sendai. Together, as a team. For him.

Iwaizumi was going to bring flowers and milk bread.

"Oh." Satoshi paused in ripping up one of the apology letters. "That's tomorrow? Time sure flies... Umm... You wanna play Vario Cart?"

A smile played on his lips. He knew this was Satoshi's way of trying to comfort him for what was to come. "Only for an hour. We have to make breakfast for mom and dad."

Satoshi scrunched up his nose. "Right."

Iwaizumi poked him hard on the head. "Hey. You shouldn't hold it against them."

"I don't blame dad," Satoshi protested. "It's not like he wanted to get sick. But mom—you should've seen her. She... She acted like she didn't want you to come back."

Iwaizumi was glad that his parents were at church, unable to listen to their conversation. "Would you?"

"What?"

"If your son got accused of murder. And everybody believed it was true. And he got thrown into prison. Your house gets vandalized and your car gets lit on fire." Iwaizumi still remembered the words his mother had said during her one and only visit. "Would you want him to come back?"

"Of course!" Satoshi snapped, vehement. "I'd—I'd believe him! Because I would know that I didn't raise a monster!"

"Nothing's ever one-hundred percent. There's always the smallest chance that—"

"Don't." Anguished, Satoshi pulled at his jacket sleeve. "You're not a monster."

Iwaizumi softened. "Sorry. But still—I don't blame mom. She's not perfect, but... She's still my mom. And I miss her. I've missed all of you."

They entered Satoshi's room, his brother walking ahead of him. Satoshi didn't turn back, getting on his knees to turn on the TV and the console. It was pretty outdated, but Satoshi had never thrown it out and replaced it. As if he had hoped that—someday—Iwaizumi would return and they would be able to pick up where they'd left off.

"How?" Satoshi suddenly said, watching the television boot up. "How can you just... forgive them?"

"Because she's my mom," Iwaizumi repeated. "Ah, hell. Satoshi—I've spent six years in prison. The guys in there aren't exactly nice. Every night, I'd fall asleep dreaming of home." He sat down, picking up a console. Even after all these years, it felt familiar in his calloused hands—every groove and curve. "I'm here now. There's nothing I need to hold against anyone."

For a while, Satoshi was quiet. He set up the game without a word. Then, he said, "You're too good for this family, Hajime."

Iwaizumi huffed, lightly digging his foot into the small of his brother's back. "Enough of that. Let's play already."

And so they did. The hour flew past, and they found themselves in the kitchen next, preparing a simple breakfast of omelet rice for four.

"I have a date with Mina today," Satoshi shared as he scooped his own portion of rice and egg into a shallow plate. "I'm taking her out to the movies."

"What are you guys seeing?"

Satoshi rattled off the name of some horror film. Noticing Iwaizumi's surprise, he added, "She's a total horror addict. I know. She's weird. I thought girls were supposed to like romance movies."

Somehow, that stereotype had never made it to Iwaizumi's mind. He'd been surrounded by testosterone-filled guys for all his life—the one girl that he had frequently interacted with when he was Satoshi's age was Naoko. Naoko. She hadn't been much of a moviegoer at all, and it had been hard for Oikawa to gauge her tastes when he dated her.

Not to mention Oikawa had been a sucker for rom-coms.

"With that thinking, I'm surprised you even managed to get a girlfriend," Iwaizumi said, banally truthful. "Did you ask her out or did she?"

Satoshi mumbled something under his breath.

"What was that? I didn't quite hear."

"I asked her!" Satoshi yelled, rice spilling over the side of the plate. He made haste to clean it up. "Dammit, Hajime, don't make me say it again!"

Hajime roared with laughter as his brother's cheeks colored an adorable pink that reached his ears. "Look's like my kid brother has balls after all." He patted Satoshi on the head, irked at having to reach up to do it.

It was then the doorbell rang.

Satoshi put the platter of rice down on the dining table before both brothers went over to the entrance-way.

"Did they forget the key or something?" Satoshi wondered allowed, opening the door.

To their surprise, it wasn't just Yoichi and Futaba waiting on the other side. Accompanying their parents was one Makoshima Naoko, a sweater pulled over her shirt. Her hair was out of its usual ponytail, flowing down her shoulders like a sheet of ink.

Naoko smiled. "Hello, Hajime."

"Naccha—Naoko!" exclaimed Iwaizumi, blinking. "When did you...?"

"We met her on the way back from mass," Yoichi explained with a wide grin. Their church was a little strange—they held services on Tuesday, Thursday, and Sunday. Or maybe it was normal and Iwaizumi just didn't know because he wasn't a Christian.

"Sorry for dropping by unannounced," Naoko said. "But I wanted to see you."

"Isn't it far?"

"It was, but it's fine—I took the rest of this week off."

Had Naoko been expecting to stay here with them? Iwaizumi scratched the back of his neck. "Sorry, we didn't clean the guest room up—uh, we'll go do it right now—"

"Oh, no," Naoko held up a hand, "Don't worry about that, Hajime. I'll stay the night at a motel. I'm going back to Sendai tomorrow for the meeting, anyway."

"It's getting cold," Futaba remarked. "Why don't we all head inside? Naoko-chan, you can sleep in Hajime's room, and Hajime will sleep in Satoshi's room."

"I really shouldn't—"

"It'll be fine!" Yoichi claimed. "Right, boys?"

Iwaizumi nodded. "Of course."

"Yeah, I don't mind," added Satoshi.

A hesitant Naoko followed the family into the house. "Pardon the intrusion," she murmured as she toed her shoes off, placing them next to the shoe rack. She sniffed. "Is that... omelet rice?"

Satoshi let out a low whistle, impressed. "You've got a pretty sharp nose, Naoko-san."

"You should've seen her during high school," Iwaizumi commented, scooping rice into individual bowls for each family member, including Naoko. Yoichi grabbed an extra chair sitting in the corner and placed it at the table. "Always first to the cafeteria. Nobody wanted to get in her way during lunch. Or else they'd risk bodily harm."

"That was so long ago." Naoko sounded exasperated. "I was immature and selfish."

Iwaizumi nudged her, teasing. "Do you remember what they called you?"

"Ugh, don't even—"

"Delinquent Lunchtime Princess."

"Shut up, Hajime."

Futaba looked as if she were uncomfortable accepting Naoko's history, but she kept her head low, clasping her hands together as she prayed before her meal. Once they were all seated, they waited for Yoichi and Futaba to stop praying before beginning to eat.

They made small talk during the meal. Satoshi mostly stayed out of it, secretly texting his girlfriend underneath the table. Futaba didn't participate much either, most of the conversation happening between Yoichi, Naoko, and Iwaizumi.

"All the way to Sendai?" Yoichi was shocked when he heard about Naoko's cake endeavours.

"Whenever I had time," Naoko affirmed. "There was no way I was gonna allow Hajime to subsist on beans and rice."

"We got miso soup sometimes," Iwaizumi said, sardonically.

Yoichi chuckled tiredly. "Thank you, Naoko-san. I'm glad he had someone there for him."

"It wasn't your fault," Iwaizumi automatically responded. "Those guards—"

"It was an unfortunate situation for everyone," Futaba interrupted. "Let's just leave it there, shall we?"

The rest of breakfast passed without much flair. After they'd finished eating, Futaba washed the dishes while Naoko, Iwaizumi, and Satoshi all headed upstairs to Iwaizumi's room. It was sparsely decorated. Iwaizumi's parents had thrown out most of his things before moving. Satoshi couldn't stay long—he had a date with Mina to prepare for.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," he said, bluntly, before slamming the door.

Naoko sat on the edge of Iwaizumi's bed while he searched through one of the boxes in his closet for something. "Your brother's cute," he heard her say from somewhere behind him, "I can't believe that's the same Satoshi as..."

"Right?" Iwaizumi didn't turn around, still digging through the cardboard box. "He'll be headed for university before long." He sighed, finally finding what he had been looking for. "I can't believe I missed out on everything with him."

Naoko hummed, thoughtful. "Well, you'll have plenty of years to catch up."

"Funny. He said almost the same thing earlier this morning." The bed sank underneath his weight. Naoko scooted further down the mattress, allowing Iwaizumi more space. "Here." He flopped a book down between them. It was filled with photos. There was the smallest smile on Iwaizumi's lips—one that Naoko mirrored. "Do you remember all this?"

"Hard not to. You guys were always a loud bunch." Naoko stroked the edge of the scrapbook with one finger. "I didn't realize you were the type to keep photos."

"It was from Tooru," Iwaizumi confessed. "He made me this book for my eighteenth. About half of it was filled when I got it. I filled the after half before..." He didn't need to say it. Flipping to the very end, they discovered that there was one page left—enough to fit four photos. "Huh. Guess I didn't finish it." I thought I did. He flipped through it again, stopping right around the beginning of their third year—it was only from here on out that Naoko appeared in their pictures.

There weren't many with her in it, but they were there nevertheless.

In a photo obviously from Oikawa, Naoko and Oikawa stood together in front of a movie theatre. First date ;P, Oikawa had written across the bottom. It hadn't been Oikawa's first date, but rather Naoko's. A few pages later, there was another one—only Naoko had been replaced with Iwaizumi. First date, it read again, this time without the silly face. The backdrop was also different—not a cinema, but a whole mountain range. They'd gone hiking together that day. Had kissed under a cherry blossom tree with the view behind them.

Iwaizumi glanced at Naoko, realizing how this must have looked to her. But she didn't seem to mind, that little smile never leaving her face as she observed silently. Eventually, she said, "He really loved you."

"He loved you, too," Iwaizumi replied, and it was the truth.

Oikawa had loved them both, and they'd both loved him.

"Do you miss those days?"

"Yeah. I do." There was no shame in admitting it.

"Me too." Naoko turned the page. A group photo caught her attention, and her eyes widened. "Is this...?"

"Hm?" Iwaizumi peered at the picture in question—at the beaming smiles of Oikawa, Hanamaki, Matsukawa, Sumire, Tadashi, Naoko, and himself. "Oh. This was for Tadashi's birthday." Only the outing had been a few days before the actual birthday due to scheduling issues. It'd been taken in early November—just days before Oikawa had died. Iwaizumi pushed that thought away. "How is he, by the way?"

"He's an oncologist now," Naoko told him. "He lives in Sendai with his boyfriend, Yoshino. We still talk almost every day, but we haven't met face-to-face in a while..." Both of them being in the medical field, it was hard to make time for each other.

"What about Sumire?"

"Finishing up her masters in Todai. She's a candidate for early graduation." Pride lit up in her eyes before fading. "She's mostly gone her own way. I... I can't remember the last time I talked to her." Naoko puffed a little laugh. "I couldn't be prouder of her, though. She's a good girl. She knows what she's doing. I trust her."

"Wish I could say the same thing about Satoshi," said Iwaizumi, and Naoko laughed again, louder and heartier this time.

After they went through the scrapbook, they enjoyed each other's company in silence, scrolling on their phones.

There was little news relevant to them.

RUSSIAN FIGURE SKATING STAR YURI PLISETSKY SAYS HE WOULD 'THROW A SKATE AT HIRAKAWA DAIZEN'S HEAD', was probably the most interesting headline he'd seen in a while, though.

Afternoon rolled around. Not wanting to be stuck inside for the rest of the day, Iwaizumi shut his phone off. "Wanna go for a walk?" Though he hadn't been living here for long, he knew most of the town like the back of his hand now.

"Sure. I could use the fresh air."

Pulling on his jacket, Iwaizumi led the way. After traversing Kosaka, there was not much that interested him now. But Naoko had only been here a few times, and he showed her around some of the popular tourist spots. For the majority of the time, they simply admired the architecture and the natural beauty.

Crossing a bridge with a beautiful view of Lake Towada, their biceps bumped occasionally.

"You know," Iwaizumi said, slowing to a halt. "I don't think I'm nervous about tomorrow anymore."

Naoko threw him an amused look. "The wonders of nature, right?"

"I went jogging this morning. It didn't have the same effect."

"Maybe you just needed to take it easy."

Iwaizumi nodded, slowly, as he considered the reason. "Maybe," he agreed. "Or maybe it's because you're here with me."

"Oh?" There was no outward reaction on her part, but Iwaizumi had known her for long enough to understand that she was taken aback. "Should I be flattered?"

He shrugged, unable to give her an answer. To him, Naoko was a constant presence in his life. Even in prison, she had always showed up at least once a week without fail. He trusted her more than anyone else in the world right now—trusted her to never abandon him or give up on him. In a way, she was like his security blanket. "Tomorrow," he said, skirting around the question. "We'll face him together."

"Sure. We'll face him together," Naoko vowed, staring out into the open waters. "All of us."

July 20th, 2018

It was Friday.

A sunny afternoon.

Kunimi and Kindaichi arrived in Sendai at approximately three o'clock in the former's car. Kunimi parked his car across the street from the memorial park. The first thing Kindaichi did was take a deep breath. The air was as sharp and crisp as he remembered it to be. A beeping noise sounded as Kunimi locked his vehicle, shoving the keys into his jeans pocket.

"Are the others here yet?" Kindaichi asked when Kunimi took out his phone to open the new Seijoh group chat.

"Watari, Kyoutani and Yahaba are on their way," Kunimi replied after a beat. "Matsukawa-san and Iwaizumi-san are five minutes away." There was a girl called Naoko who was coming along, too. Kunimi recognized the name, vaguely, as the doctor who had made Daizen fall on his face. He didn't know much of her relationship with Iwaizumi and Oikawa, though—had never really paid her any attention in high school. "And... Yuda-san's already here."

Kindaichi looked to the front gates of the memorial park, noticing Yuda waving to them. He waved back, even offering a ginger smile.

They crossed the road to meet him.

"Wow!" Yuda's eyes bugged out when they stood in front of him, freckles brown and prominent under the sun. "You guys looked way shorter from a distance! I can't believe my underclassmen are taller than me now..."

Kunimi smirked. "We weren't gonna stay the same height forever, you know."

"I know, I know. Just let an old man like me reminisce, why don't you?"

Kindaichi looked around. "Sawauchi and Shido didn't come with you...?"

"We lost touch after high school," Yuda informed him, if a little stiffly. "If they're coming, I don't know about it."

They weren't in the group chat, either. Kindaichi supposed that meant that they wouldn't be coming after all.

Group by group, they arrived.

The next to come after Kindaichi and Kunimi were Matsukawa, Iwaizumi, and Naoko. They exchanged murmured greetings, Naoko's stony face even softening slightly when she said hello to Kindaichi.

Matsukawa looked as if he hadn't slept in a while.

Nobody blamed him.

They'd all heard the news about Hanamaki.

Watari got here soon after, sporting a head full of hair. Many of them openly stared.

The last pair to reach the memorial park were Yahaba and Kyoutani. A woman with a side braid drove them, parking behind Kunimi's car. She made no move to exit the car; her mouth moved as she let Yahaba and Kyoutani off, probably wishing them good luck.

"Yahaba!" Kindaichi couldn't contain his excitement.

Gods, he was so skinny now.

But he also stronger than before.

Yahaba met them with a great big hug, pulling in both Kindaichi and Kunimi at once. Iwaizumi got similar treatment—or would have had he not been clutching two delicate items. Yahaba settled for a side-hug instead.

Kyoutani nodded at them all, not bothering to say anything. There was nothing any of them could really say. The empty streets only drove home the fact that they were little more than ghosts in a ghost town.

At last, it was time.

As one—as a team—they wandered into the park.

Oikawa's headstone was just as Kindaichi remembered it. But it felt a lot less lonely than before—warmer than before. Maybe it was just the sun beating down the back of his neck, but he wanted to believe that it was something more.

In the middle of their group was Iwaizumi, holding flowers and milk bread to his chest. Nobody spoke a word as he knelt, laying the bouquet and the bag of bread in front of the plaque with shaking hands.

Somebody sniffled.

Kindaichi rubbed at his eyes, his knuckle coming back wet.

Iwaizumi sat on the grass, crossing his legs and slumping forward. "Hey," he greeted the gravestone, a barely perceptible tremor in his voice. "It's been a while... Tooru."

Matsukawa began to cry in silence, tears sliding down his stoic mien. He made no move to wipe them away, letting them pool at his chin and detach in fat droplets.

"Six years," Iwaizumi went on, reaching out to palm the tablet. It was icy on his skin and damp from last night's rain. Six years spent in concrete hell, alone and voiceless. There'd been little sympathy there, merely scathing looks and gruff words. He'd dreamed of this day for six years—of the goodbye he'd never been able to give before now. He swallowed a lump in his throat. "Six damn years. Tooru, I—I miss you."

A single leaf fell from an overhead tree, almost completely brown.

"I guess..." Iwaizumi's hand fell to the grass. "I'm home now. It's your birthday today, so you can eat as much milk bread as you like, and play as much volleyball as you want. I know that'll make you happy. And when my time comes, we'll do everything together again." A pause. "Makki's with you now, right?"

Matsukawa inhaled.

"You're not alone up there. But don't forget about the rest of us down here. Or we'll kick your ass."

There was a collective chuckle at that.

"So wait for us, alright?"

A gentle breeze swept through the clearing.

They stayed there for a while, each of them saying their own piece to Oikawa. By the time they were finished, it was already late afternoon. The golden sunlight was blinding. Grass crunched beneath their shoes as they dispersed—it was time to leave.

Only Iwaizumi stayed, Naoko hovering behind him for a few moments before deciding to give him some time alone.

"Think he'll be okay?" Kindaichi asked, worriedly, as he passed through the memorial park gates with Kunimi and Naoko.

"He'll be fine," Naoko assured him, her hair fluttering in the wind.

Kindaichi looked back one last time before rejoining the others at their vehicles.

Still, Iwaizumi remained at the gravestone. He read the epitaph, over and over again, until he would be able to recite it in his sleep. I'll never forget you. Even when I'm old and gray and the world's a haze, I'll always remember you. You're the greatest partner I've ever had, and the greatest setter I've ever known.

Touching his forehead upon the monument, Iwaizumi closed his eyes, smiling.

"I love you, Tooru."

fin