CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT – INTO THE FRYING PAN

"Ooh, these red velvet cupcakes look like a perfect fit for the party! I'm sure the others will love them!"

"Nah, they're too fancy. These lemon buttercream ones will make things simpler."

"How about these banoffee cupcakes? I know a café downtown that makes them. Maybe I can find out their recipe so that we can try making them ourselves?"

"If you ask me, you can't go wrong with carrot cupcakes. I always order one when I eat at Kifune at the mall."

Natsuki idled by as she watched her classmates peruse their respective smartphones in their seats, browsing through cupcake recipes and offering one comment after another. Somehow, she knew that she should have seen it coming, though with how busy school had become, the idea of baking cupcakes for the class at their Christmas party had been swept under the rug. It only reared its head once again after her classmates had approached her out of the blue ten minutes ago to discuss the notion with her. As she hung back and waited for them to finish speaking, it felt odd listening to them discuss things involving her baking skills, given how she had rarely spoken to any of them before, and how she had not even given them her decision yet.

"You guys do know that we won't be baking the same amount we had back at the festival, right?" said Hina Murakami, her multicolored fingernails tapping lightly against her smartphone's screen as she scrolled through more recipes. "We only need enough for the entire class, so maybe two flavors ought to do it."

"But Junji said that we had enough money in our class funds to bake three batches," blonde Mieko Fukuda noted. "We should maximize that!"

"In case you've forgotten, we're not going to be the ones baking," Ai Inoue pointed out in a low voice. "Natsuki is, remember? So we should ask her first and see if it's not any trouble."

"You guys do know I can hear you perfectly fine over here, right?" Natsuki cut in, both amused and exasperated. That made everyone snap to attention, and the ones who had given the most suggestions shifted a little guiltily in their seats.

"Sorry about that, Natsuki," said doe-eyed Nagisa Sasaki. "We just got a little carried away. I mean, it's exciting to know that you can make these recipes happen, and if the ones at the festival are any indication, the ones at the party would turn out to be just as awesome!"

Trying to butter me up already, huh? Natsuki thought, though she felt flattered all the same. "That is, if I say yes about baking them."

That deflated her classmates' overall demeanor somewhat. "Is it too much of a hassle?" asked Ai. "It's okay if you don't want to. We know it's quite a lot to ask of you. . ."

Natsuki grimaced. "When you say it like that, it sounds like you guys are guilt-tripping me."

"N-No, it's okay!" said Hina to her left. "We were afraid that it might be hectic with the exams coming up."

"But just in case there's a possibility that we can change your mind . . . what can we do?" asked Nagisa with a hint of pleading in her voice.

Natsuki sighed as her classmates rounded on her expectantly. The pressure made her remember her middle school days when she would be put on the spot regarding her manga. Try as they might to seem innocent, she could tell that her classmates wanted nothing more than to have her bake for the Christmas party. Part of her wanted to invite Daisuke in their discussion, if only to ask for his opinion on what she should do. But as she glanced at the corner of the classroom where he was talking to his other friends, giving her some space to talk to the girls freely, Natsuki knew that her decision must be all her own.

"When is the party again? The day after the exams?" she asked her classmates.

"Around two days after, if I remember correctly," said Hina in reply. "That's the date Tadano gave us."

"Okay, so that gives us around a month to prep for it." Natsuki let out another sigh as she closed her eyes for a moment. The seconds that ticked by felt like an eternity of trepidation.

"F-Fine, I'll do it," she said lamely at last.

"Yes!" The chorus of excitement and glee that her classmates let out drew everyone's eyes to them. Natsuki shrunk back in her seat, waiting for the din to die down while the others squealed and gushed with delight.

"Thank you so much, Natsuki!" Mieko told her. "The party just got even better now that your baking's gonna be a part of it!"

"I'll talk to the others right away and see if we can get the funds for it after next week," Ai declared excitedly. "Thanks for giving this a chance, Natsuki!"

"Hey, just thank me when the cupcakes are already made and ready, okay?" Natsuki remarked, feeling a little self-conscious at the praise she was getting. "Anyway, you don't have to rush. Two to three days before the party would be more than enough time to have the cupcakes baked and kept fresh. That's how I did it for the festival."

"Then we'll spend the next few weeks finalizing what flavors we can have," said Mieko. "Is there anything you have in mind? As much as we'd like to suggest a few flavors that the class would love, you're the expert here."

"The flavors aren't that big of a deal to me. However, the number of batches we can have will depend on the ingredients we'll be using," said Natsuki. "If you guys want fancier cupcakes, it'll cost us extra, so we might not be able to go for three batches with the money we'll be given. If you're willing to downgrade to simpler flavors, we can get three."

Her classmates looked at each other, frowning in thought. "I'll talk to Junji first and see how much we'll be given, I think," said Nagisa. "And we'll see whether we go for quality or quantity in the end. We'll notify you as soon as we come to a decision."

"Okay. If you're gonna tell me, do it the week before the party, okay?" Natsuki told them. "That way, I can start prepping for it."

"Ah, are you gonna bake all these by yourself, Natsuki?" asked Nagisa. "We can help too, you know? Just teach us how to do it, so that we can split the workload between all of us."

"I could, but I think I'll be able to bake faster if it's just me," said Natsuki. "I-It's not that I don't want your help or anything. I can manage, that's all."

Her classmates regarded her with renewed awe at that. "That sounds awesome," said Hina. "So are you gonna be baking them at your place? That's what you did last time, right?"

"W-Well, not really. I did my baking over at my uncle's house," Natsuki lied, casting a subtle glance over at Daisuke. "My dad doesn't like it when I . . . when I make a mess at our place, so I usually go somewhere else for that."

"I see. If you want, you can bake at our place instead," Ai offered. "We've got an oven and all."

"No, I'll be fine, thanks. I'll just tell my aunt and uncle beforehand," said Natsuki. "Just tell me what you guys want, and run the list of ingredients by me before you get them. I'll tell you then if I need anything else."

"Okay, noted." Mieko shifted eagerly in her seat. "This is so exciting! At least we'll have something to look forward to in spite of the crummy exams. Are you sure you don't need our help in baking, Natsuki?"

"No need, don't worry," Natsuki replied. "But if you can, try not to tell the rest of the class about this. They might start asking questions o-or something. . ."

"Don't worry. We're the only ones who'll be asking questions if we have any," said Ai. "And we're gonna make sure that whatever it is that you'll be baking, it won't be too difficult or demanding."

"Okay. Whatever it is that you guys decide on, I'll d-do my best," said Natsuki, putting on a determined front. Her classmates smiled, and expressed more of their thanks at her decision and her willingness to indulge their request. Speaking so openly before them was bound to take some getting used to, but as Natsuki observed their demeanor, she was grateful that she could sense only genuineness coming from them.

Later at lunchtime, as she sat at a table with Daisuke, Yuri, Naoki and Kenta, she confided everything in a low voice to Daisuke. He listened closely all the while, surprise deepening on his handsome face.

"So they're actually gonna go through with it," he said when she was done sharing. "I hope it won't be stressful for you, though."

"I'll manage. Is it okay if I use your mom's kitchen again, though?" Natsuki asked.

"Of course. I'll tell Mom as soon as I get home later. She'd be glad to hear that you're baking again for school."

Natsuki blushed a little at that, staring down at the bento that Mrs. Matsuda had prepared for her and marveling at her continued kindness. "T-Thanks. I'll see if I can bake a batch for her as payment, just like last time."

"Sure thing." Daisuke grinned. "Does that I mean I get to help you bake again?"

Natsuki shot him a look. "Have you been looking forward to this all the while?"

"Not really, but hey, I'm sure you need some help," said Daisuke, "and who better to provide it than the same guy who helped you bake for the festival, right?"

"Are you sure you're not doing this just because there's someone among the girls that you wanna impress?" Natsuki asked bluntly. "It's Mieko, isn't it? Or maybe Nagisa?"

"Hey, you know it's not like that," Daisuke shot back. "Besides, they have no idea that I helped you bake for the festival. If they did, and if they found out we baked them over at my place, they'd get some funny ideas about . . . a-about us. You wouldn't want that to happen, right?"

"Alright, alright," Natsuki conceded, smirking at his defensiveness. "Anyway, it'll be easier this time around, since we won't be baking anything close to a hundred cupcakes. I'm guessing that they'll go for around fifty. There are twenty-five of us in the class, right? Giving everyone two apiece should be enough."

"That sounds manageable," Daisuke remarked. "So should I tell Mom that we'll be baking a few days before the party?"

"Yeah. I'm just gonna cook up an excuse for Dad and say that we're having practical exams for some subjects. He won't mind as long as I don't come home beyond seven." A part of Natsuki still worried about the possibility of getting found out, especially with the notion that she would be spending time with a male classmate at his house. "Once the girls lay everything out for us, we'll set up a safe schedule."

"Alright, sounds good."

As they continued eating, Daisuke shifted towards Naoki, engaging him in a conversation. Kenta paid them no heed as he continued to eat in silence, idly picking at his food with an empty look on his face. Having nowhere else to turn to, Natsuki glanced over at Yuri on her right. She was about to strike up a conversation as well when she noticed the look on Yuri's face.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

Yuri craned her head towards her, momentarily startled. "I'm sorry?"

"Are you okay?" Natsuki repeated, taking note of the lines beneath Yuri's eyes and the pale sheen of her skin. "You look pretty tired."

"Oh." Yuri brushed a lock of hair away from her cheek, setting her chopsticks down. "I'm fine. Just having trouble sleeping nowadays, t-that's all."

"I see. Cramming extra for the exams?"

"Y-You could say that."

Natsuki nodded as she took another mouthful of bento. "We'll all be in the same boat pretty soon, I reckon. Once we get our pointers for the exams and we start cramming for nights, Christmas break will feel like it can't come soon enough. Well, at least we have the end of the year events to look forward to."

"Yes, that's right. . ." Yuri muttered, her voice trailing off. Natsuki looked at her again and noticed how tense she appeared, too tense to engage in any sort of conversation that did not involve Naoki. Yuri did not even seem to notice her going quiet, instead glancing around the cafeteria distractedly. Natsuki shrugged and focused on eating instead, though she could not help but hope that Yuri was okay.

You and me both, Yuri. You and me both.

The last days of November soon saw a decrease in rainfall, leaving Eishima colder than ever as it neared December. Apart from bringing an umbrella with her for any wayward showers, Natsuki had also started wearing her pink jacket over her uniform as well as a pair of pink wool mittens, unwilling to let the chill overwhelm her frail form as she walked to and from school every day. Everyone else soon started adding similar articles of clothing to their daily routines, such as scarves and even bonnets. Natsuki always found herself envying the ones who went about with only a simple coat over their clothes, wishing that she had as much tolerance as they did when it came to the cold. Sleeping always left a dull ache in her limbs whenever she woke up, and sometimes the heater in their house felt like it did not give enough hot water for the shower.

Walking through the residential streets leading to her house, Natsuki went through the earlier events at school over and over in her mind. It felt like a lifetime ago when she had been plagued with insecurities and uncertainty about letting others know about her secret passion for baking, let alone actively participating in events by making cupcakes, and yet here she was, agreeing to make more cupcakes for people that she had not even bothered to talk to before. The skeptic in her could sense that her classmates merely wanted to use her, and would abandon her as soon as she had served her purpose for the party. Still, Mieko and the others were nothing but sincere regarding the matter, even if they acted in an overexcited manner typical for those who have just found out that a friend of theirs harbored a secret skill.

I gave Daisuke a chance, and it got me . . . here, she thought to herself. Maybe I should give this—and them—a chance too. It still amazed Natsuki to no end how a simple encounter at the first day of school had led to her having cordial acquaintances like Yuri, Naoki and the rest, let alone someone as friendly, helpful and charming as Daisuke. In Natsuki's mind, gratitude would always be an understatement with how she felt for this lot in her life.

Still deep in thought as she walked down the narrow street to her house, Natsuki looked up just in time to see a small group converging some distance away, right in the middle of the street. Immediately, she froze up. What's going on here? A quick look at the nearby houses revealed nothing out of the ordinary; none of their neighbors seemed to find the group suspicious enough. Unconvinced, Natsuki began counting down the houses on her left and saw with a pang of dread that the men were standing just outside her house.

Dad's "friends," she realized. Driven by panic, she quickly ducked behind a nearby fence. None of the men seemed to have noticed her, and there was no way to hear that they were saying to each other. What are they doing? What do they want? Her hands now trembling from something more than the cold around her, Natsuki wanted to leave, to find some other place to go to and wait for the men to pass, but a part of her wanted to snoop all the same, if only to figure out who they were and what their business was with her father.

I'm not trapped in the house with them, Natsuki thought. I can easily give them the slip if things get hairy. As long as they don't spot me, I'm good. She peeked out from behind the fence again. The men were talking to one another, with an occasional bark of laughter emanating from their group. To the left, the Fujisawa household looked just as ordinary as the rest of the block, with no sign of her father. Sinking in a half-crouch, Natsuki darted from one house's fence to another, moving closer and closer, never expecting that the day would come when she would actually be thankful for her small stature, or annoyed that she had chosen such bright colors to wear. If any of the men chanced to glance in her general direction, she prayed that she would be quick enough to crouch behind some garbage bins or slink behind a wall.

When she was close enough to see the men's faces, Natsuki snuck another glance, feeling her heartbeat rising in trepidation. There were five of them in total, with the black coats over their casual attire giving them the look of salarymen on a break. Or gangsters hiding in plain sight. She failed to identify three of them, but she was soon startled to recognize the other two based on their voices and the names she now heard. The first one—short and stocky, with beady eyes—was the one the others referred to as Beppu. And a square-jawed man with grey-streaked hair turned out to be the one with the curt voice, the same one who had warned his companions about discussing whatever business they had with her father inside the house. That suspicious need for discretion had been enough to tell Natsuki that some form of shadiness was afoot, and piecing together the voices she had heard before with the faces she was seeing now only reinforced her misgivings tenfold.

"—is ready yet?" one of the others asked. "Ishiguro assured us that we'd be moving in by the last week of the month. Can't wait to get out of that old dump."

"Takaoka here mentioned some trouble at Kiyohama," said Beppu.

The man with the curt tone spoke up at that. "They want to negotiate one more time. I told them that if that's what they want, they can take it up with Yamamoto. If they wanted to try and wheedle out a better deal, they had all the time they needed last week."

"This deal cost Yamamoto an arm and a leg, Takaoka. He won't be happy to hear those fools asking for more."

"We'll take care of it. I already told Yamamoto that I spoke to the group in Gunma about it. They'll make those bastards sing a different tune."

Listening closely to their conversation, Natsuki tried hard not to let her fear cloud her instincts. Somehow, nothing the men were discussing was explicitly shady, but she found it hard to assume that their business matters were of an innocent nature. She tried hard to remember anything else that she might have heard from the men in passing during the times they had converged at the Fujisawa residence, but the only thing that she could turn up was how fearful she felt at being under the same roof as them.

The sound of a door opening startled her out of her wits for a moment. Her father had come out of the house, wearing a threadbare grey bathrobe over a white shirt and a pair of brown pajamas. Natsuki shrunk back on the fence, not daring to move or even breathe loudly, as she watched him walk over to the men.

"Well, Fujisawa?" asked the one named Takaoka.

Her back pressed hard against the fence, Natsuki pricked her ears up just as her father spoke. "I talked to my brother-in-law. He won't be able to lend me enough."

A chorus of disappointment rang out at that. "Yamamoto already gave you a chance by extending your deadline, Fujisawa," Takaoka declared. "Pay up, or forget about your application."

Silence fell for a moment. Natsuki imagined her father scowling and seething where he stood, unable to do anything. "But of course, if you really want in on this, there's always that other deal, Fujisawa," Beppu interrupted. "Have you talked to any of your old friends at Gotoda yet?"

"I've been trying, alright?" her father replied, annoyed. "It's not like they'll talk to me that easily. It's been years since I worked there, in case you've forgotten. If they catch me trying to snoop around . . ."

"Well, if your brother-in-law can't help you, only they can," said Takaoka. "If you find out about what deals Gotoda has for this year and the next, you'll be doing Yamamoto a big favor—enough for him to even pay you back the money you already gave. Snagging those deals will give our group a huge advantage by the end of the year."

When Natsuki peeked out again, her father was wiping his hands anxiously on his bathrobe. "I'll keep trying. And I'll ask my sister and see if she can't convince my brother-in-law to lend me a bit more. She'll come around when I send her another message, she always does, and she'll talk her man down. Just . . . Just give me until next week, alright?"

"And the favor at Gotoda?"

"That'll take a bit longer. No one's returning my calls, and I don't know if I can just walk back into our office. But you'll have your answer by next week, I promise."

"Make sure we will," Takaoka declared. "Like I said, Yamamoto won't keep waiting for this, not with our relocation already coming close. If you want to move to Gunma with the rest of us, act fast, Fujisawa."

"I know, I know."

With a nod, Takaoka beckoned to his companions, and together they started leaving. Natsuki crouched immediately behind the wall she was hiding at, her backpack squished against the concrete as she pressed her back hard onto it. Snippets of conversation floated towards her, though they were nothing out of the ordinary. A short distance away, she heard a door close and mused that her father had gone back inside the house. Natsuki counted two minutes, took a deep breath to calm her nerves, and carefully slunk back onto the street, which was now thankfully vacant.

A light veil of cigarette smoke almost choked her as she slipped inside the house. Her father was seated at the sofa, staring at the news channel flashing on the nearby TV screen. "I'm home," she called out in an attempt to play innocent.

Her father craned his head a little. "Someone's coming over tonight," he said in a gruff tone. "There's some money on the dresser in the hall. Go buy some takeout at that noodle place down the block. And four bottles at the store, once it gets dark."

"Y-Yes, Dad." With that, Natsuki went upstairs to her room to drop off her things posthaste, ready to wallow once more in the miserable bog that was her life at home. This time, however, the bleariness around her felt heavier as she dwelt on the things she had heard, and she wondered with dread what new tribulations found their way into the Fujisawa household. For one odd instant, she imagined herself writing a poem about it, though she could only imagine what dreariness would prevail in her words then.

As she got back downstairs to fulfill her father's errand, she slowed down as she passed by her mother's picture in the hallway. Natsuki ran her hand longingly across its glass surface, touching her mother's cheek gently with her fingers.

Mom, wherever you are . . . please watch over us.

Nothing else transpired that evening, though it did nothing to address Natsuki's suspicions as they returned in full force the following morning. After cleaning up after her father's mess from the previous night, she quickly scanned the entire living room for any telltale signs or objects left behind by the men from their previous visits. However, the only curiosity that turned up was a brown leather jacket that had been draped over one of the chairs next to the sofa on which her father had spent the night in drunken slumber. Gingerly, Natsuki took the jacket and hung it on the coat rack in the hallway, almost gagging from the overpowering stench of perfume emanating from it, and did one last, unsuccessful sweep before going back upstairs to prepare for school.

Later that morning, seated among her classmates in class, Natsuki drew a bit of relief from her surroundings, which made for a markedly more reassuring sight than her father and his dubious friends at home. Still, it felt difficult to focus extensively in class, and she found herself struggling to take notes at times or listen to the lectures before her. Next to her, Daisuke had been none the wiser, though keeping him in the dark hitherto was starting to feel wrong.

I have to tell him, Natsuki decided when lunchtime came. As anxious as she still felt about how her news might trouble Daisuke, she knew it felt better to have him with her instead of shouldering her quandary by her lonesome. And so, as soon as the two of them had finished eating with Yuri, Naoki and Kenta, she led him to a staircase at one end of the building. The choice felt right, though it also made her heart hammer wildly with foreboding. Thankfully, Daisuke did not interrupt her when she started stammering through her recollection of the events. No visible reaction could be deciphered from his face, though Natsuki could sense his apprehension forming. Part of her sorely wished that they were back to discussing Parfait Girls instead, and she remembered with a healthy ounce of longing the time when the two of them would read by themselves, discussing and debating without many worries about everything else.

When she was done explaining, Daisuke frowned. "Gotoda?"

"That's the old construction company my dad worked for, before . . . b-before everything happened," Natsuki replied.

"Oh, I see. And what was your dad's job there?"

"I think he worked for a contractor there. I remember him going around talking to people at offices for supplies and other stuff, and going off to supervise people at a construction site. Mom and I would visit him at work at times, when Uncle Ryota would take us for a drive."

"Hmm. . ." Daisuke glanced around just in case anyone could hear their discussion at the staircase they had gone to. "So these men wanted your dad to either give them some money, or find out some . . . deals at his old workplace? That does sound weird."

"Weird? It's fishy as heck!" Natsuki exclaimed. "I mean, what would those guys want to do with Dad's old company? From the way they talked, I'm sure they want him to do something suspicious!"

"I know." Daisuke rubbed his temples with his left hand, thinking. "Going back to what I said, though, maybe it's for a new job. I mean, they mentioned an application, right? So maybe it's possible that this is one job offer that he's guaranteed to get, and if he's this desperate to pay for it, it sounds like a done deal. Besides, you said that there's a chance he gets to Gunma with these people, right?"

Natsuki froze, so caught up in her worry over the broader side of things that she had forgotten about that little detail. Gunma. That's right, those men did mention that, and they mentioned moving out too. "I-Is that what's gonna happen?" she asked, bewildered.

"I think so," said Daisuke. "And again, if he really wants this job, then that means he's okay with getting out of the city. That means you'll . . . you'll be free of him."

Free. A number of times, Natsuki had tried to imagine life without her father, without the cigarette smoke and the beer bottles, the strange women coming to visit, and the beatings whenever she failed to clean up properly or spoke out of turn or snuck in some new manga in her room. Life without her mother had been difficult, but her father's departure might not be so hard to deal with, considering the number of opportunities it would afford her. A queer chill coursed through her. I'd be able to come home at my own time. I can hang out with my friends some more, and even bring them over at the house if I want. I can go see Aunt Shoko and Uncle Ryota and Miki whenever I wish. And her father would be at Gunma with those men, working like he used to and being given some respite from the vices that he often wallowed in. Perhaps after a year or two there, he would be able to recover on his own terms, and even cope with her mother's death in the way that he needed.

But something still rankled inside Natsuki, something that she could not shake off. It lurked within her like a bothersome itch. "I . . . I don't want him to get into trouble," she muttered.

Daisuke looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"

Natsuki turned to him resolutely. "That kind of thing isn't what's on my mind. Right now, I just w-want to know what the heck he's gotten himself into. If this is just one more job application where he gets turned down again, it'd be easier to deal with, but these people he's been hanging around with, I know they're up to no good. I mean, what kind of company asks you to do stuff like snooping around your old workplace or even pay that much money for a job application? I don't know if there's any company out there that does that kind of thing. I'm scared that he's . . . h-he's getting into something illegal."

Daisuke could only gape at her, ostensibly digesting the gravity of her suspicions; no doubt he thought her mad for shying away from what might be her first chance at real respite from her father. Natsuki pressed on, feeling frustration biting at her core as she pushed back the blissful thoughts about living alone at last. "You might be thinking that these people he's talking to are just trying to con him, asking for money before they give him a job, but there's just something about them that tells me they're not just conmen looking to swindle people. Besides, Dad has been borrowing money from Uncle Ryota and Aunt Shoko for a long time now, to help us get by while he still doesn't have a job to keep the house running. But this is the first time he ever asked this much for a job that he may or may not get. Isn't that suspicious enough already?"

"I know," said Daisuke. "I just thought that . . . that maybe if this is your chance to get away from him, then . . ."

"No, Daisuke. If this is the only way that I'll be able to stay away from Dad, I d-don't think I want it. The men that he hangs out with, there are times when I can hear them sneaking around the house, like this one time when—"

She stopped then, realizing that she had not informed Daisuke in any way yet about the time when she heard one of her father's strange associates wandering outside her room. Daisuke, however, picked up on what she had just uttered, and his face turned even more serious.

"When they what?" he asked.

Natsuki shook her head. "I-It's nothing," she lied.

"When they what, Natsuki?"

Frustration welled up in Natsuki, coloring her anxiousness. "I heard one of them coming upstairs to g-go to the bathroom, and he . . . he lingered outside my room for a moment. B-But he didn't do anything, I swear!"

Daisuke sighed. "They'd better not," he muttered. "I think the sooner your dad gives them what they want and leaves with them, the sooner you'll be safe."

"No, I don't want him to leave with them, not with what they want him to do!"

"But this is serious, Natsuki! You're practically in danger every time you come home, with what your dad does, and now—"

"I know that! You don't have to remind me of it, okay?!"

Her shrill cry was followed by a ringing silence, punctuated by the sounds that meandered through the corridor next to the staircase. Thankfully, no one else seemed to notice their discussion escalate, though that did little to ease the ache in Natsuki's heart as she looked at Daisuke. Concern and reluctance were evident on his handsome face. Immediately, Natsuki felt guilty at her outburst. She took a deep, shaky breath and balled her hands into fists, clenching until her palms started to hurt.

"I'm sorry. I'm just really worried for my dad because this . . . this isn't like him," she stammered. "I know that he's a drunk and a moocher who h-hurts his own daughter, but I didn't think he's the kind of person who'd get into crap like this, and it's really, really worrying and painful to see and to know how low he's gone. And with the way he speaks about Uncle Ryota and Aunt Shoko, it's hard to listen to. They're family, and now he d-doesn't care about how hard Uncle Ryota works to help us, about how much Aunt Shoko worries for him, and he's just wasting the help he gets on his drinking and women and other useless things. And then this crap just comes out of nowhere. If Mom could see him now, s-she would be so sad, so upset. . .

"Don't get me wrong, I would like nothing more than to get away from the life I have at home right now. I'm sick of getting hurt or being starved, sick of buying cigarettes and beer and getting funny looks from the people in the convenience stores, sick of watching different strangers coming to the house almost every night. I hate Dad for what he's t-turned into, and for never knowing just how much h-he hurts me and Aunt Shoko and Uncle Ryota. But with Mom gone, he's the only parent I have left, and I don't w-want to lose him, not like this. I'm terrified of him, but I'm also dead scared of him leaving like Mom did. Mom died b-because of me, when she went to watch me in that stupid play I wanted to join. I'm n-not gonna lose Dad too by doing nothing about this. I'm not. I can't let that happen. I won't let that h-happen."

Her heart straining from the burden of her emotions, Natsuki sank onto the step beneath her, trying to control her tears lest the students passing by see her crying. I won't lose Dad, she kept repeating in her head. I won't let that happen. I won't. Undeterred, Daisuke sat down next to her on the stairs and pulled her into a one-armed embrace. Natsuki pressed herself against him, her hand gripping at his sleeve, his warmth caressing his face as she snuggled at his chest.

They broke free relatively quickly, lest a teacher pass by and misinterpret their moment of comfort as an improper display of affection. Natsuki felt thankful that very few tears made it past her defenses, and she wiped at them now with the back of her hand.

"I'm sorry," she repeated quietly. "F-For snapping at you, and for all this. . ."

"Hey, don't worry about it, okay? At least you didn't sock me in the arm," Daisuke joked, trying to reassure her with a grin. "You're free to do so if you wanna let off some steam."

"You know I'm not gonna do something like that, dummy," Natsuki told him with reproach. "I'm letting you go through enough trouble b-by having you listening to me like this."

"And I always find myself wishing I could do more. Listening is the least I can offer you, Natsuki. If I had the answers to all of your problems, I'll give them to you in a heartbeat." A brief look of helplessness crossed Daisuke's face. "I hope your dad comes out of this fine, and your aunt and uncle too."

"I know." Natsuki could scarcely repress a shudder as she imagined what would happen if her father's shady friends came knocking at the Ito residence. "I'm g-gonna do what I can to find out about all this, and to make sure that Dad doesn't get himself in trouble."

Daisuke looked as if he would protest for a moment, no doubt gauging how problematic her choice could be, but instead he said, "Okay. What do you have in mind?"

Feeling grateful for his willingness to hear her out, Natsuki replied, "I'll try to listen in to any other suspicious stuff that he brings up at home. When he's drunk, he doesn't really know how to lower his voice, so it'll be easy. A-And when I go clean his room, I'll look out for anything that's out of the ordinary. I'll tell you if I find or hear anything."

"What if your dad invites those guys over?"

"I'll stay in my room, with the door locked and all. I'll listen to any weird names they mention, or if they talk about Uncle Ryota or Aunt Shoko."

"Alright, just be careful. If you can, find out what company he's trying to join. I'll ask Hiroko if she's familiar with it, or if any of her friends have heard of it."

"Yes, thank you." Natsuki sighed, trying to keep her worry in check. Instinctively, she took Daisuke's hand, drawing strength and courage from the warm feel of his palm and fingers as she held on tight. Between the exams, the Christmas party and her father's dilemma, the all-too familiar sensation of being pulled from all sides was something she was not looking forward to, and she found herself wishing that she could carry on dealing with just liquor bottles, cigarette smoke and heavily perfumed jackets instead.

A/N: Hello, everyone. I hope this new upload finds you at a good time and in good health. I wanted to start writing this sooner than intended, but getting hit by COVID at the start of April threw everything off course. I'm doing better now, and I'm glad I was able to turn this in pretty quickly in spite of the isolation. Here's to hoping that May will turn out a lot better. Please stay safe, and always take care!