.

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Wishing I could hear your voice again
Knowing that I never would
Dreaming of you won't help me to do
All that you dreamed I could

- Andrew Lloyd Webber, Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again

7 / 5 / 2016

It is a rather pleasant evening. Somewhat marred by the fact that Maruki still hasn't woken up, but beggars can't be choosers. The night lights are bizarrely pretty this time around; relatively few people on the streets as usual, less cars honking their horns or stuck in traffic. Plus I managed to make good money at the flower shop and was able to study reasonably well in the library after class hours.

Of course Niijima's still depressed, and there's no way I could possibly blame her for that. Of course Takamaki, or Yoshizawa, or Sakamoto don't want to say shit to me just yet; if anything they ought to study for the exams that'll take place a week from now. The exams I've only had cursory looks at my notes for, utterly bare-bones shit that the past me would have reviled.

Niijima and I share a small dinner at Bikkuri Boy, though I do most of the eating. Woman's still too distraught to even touch her food, and I feel no need to pressure her to be otherwise. That blank stare into her dinner does me no end of discomfort, but hell. I can't provide her any peace, so I might as well not even try.

Through Bikkuri Boy's windows I see a young man, roughly my age, with long black hair and a brown overcoat for a school uniform, passing through the street. I called him up earlier this afternoon, through a number Niijima had numbly and wordlessly provided; fortunately he had no extra work past six, and therefore was fully able to convene with me in a Shibuya fast-food resto. When he arrives his eyes are half-lidded, not out of exhaustion but more the kind you'd see out of the most annoyed man on the face of the planet.

"Hello, Akechi-san," I smile at him, hollowly.

"Dispense with the pleasantries, Hikawa-san. I assume you're both still intent on returning to his Palace. Or, is this my lucky day, and you've decided to apologize for your ignorant rambling by treating me out to dinner in a Shibuya diner."

"The former. More ignorant rambling awaits."

"Then why should I be here at all?" he folds his arms, smirking derisively. "If you know what's good for you, you'd try to wriggle yourself away from this meaninglessly self-destructive endeavor. Perhaps that part of yourself is screaming at you to be won over by my reasoning."

"No. I'm of perfectly sound mind when I tell you I am fully prepared to return to Hideyoshi Tsukioka's Palace, as is Makoto Niijima. I'm here to convince you to join us."

"Is this true, Niijima-san?"

She just looks up at him, and when she speaks her drained and dead eyes turn that flaming shade I've always been captivated by. "It is."

And she says little else for the rest of the conversation.

He shifts his jaw around, as if caught between wanting to laugh and wanting to shove his thumbs in my eyes. "How could you possibly convince me to join you? If I could just have you arrested now, and save myself weeks' worth of wasted time."

"You absolutely could."

"For all you know I may be in league with the cops, and I intend to send out all the information you've provided me to them."

"You very well may just be."

"I could betray you in an instant and have you thrown in a padded cell forever."

"I'd be disappointed if you couldn't."

"Then why tell me any of this in the first place? I know that you're suicidal, I didn't think you were stupid."

"In all honesty we have almost nothing to bargain with. The possibility that you could put us down remains strong. I doubt I could convince you to ignore me. You could kill me and cover it up, but I highly doubt you're one to get your hands dirty in that manner specifically."

"And I shouldn't just be rid of you, right here and now, because?"

"Because we're hoping that we can win you over. We're hoping we can appeal to you. We're hoping there's one small speck of a detective in there, willing to get the bottom of things and help bring closure to those victimized by these corrupt fucking cops."

"You can't steal his heart. You shouldn't. It would destroy so much you'd never be able to understand."

"I'm well aware stealing Tsukioka's heart would probably fuck my life up far worse than I'd like. I don't intend to do so, neither does Niijima. Like I said, in you I'm hoping that the ace detective I've heard so much about is actually willing to help victims of corrupt cops make some measure of peace with their past. I want you to help us find evidence surrounding Niijima's father, his involvement in the drug trade and his affiliation with a fucked-up man like Junya Kaneshiro."

"Evidence for his connection to Kaneshiro, that's all you're looking for? What makes you think I can hand that to you?"

"You've been in Tsukioka's Palace long enough to determine so much about the SIU's connection to the yakuza. Enough to know how Niijima's father was responsible for setting that monster loose. Don't you recall how you came across all that?"

He can no longer determine how I could be so stupid to even think of such a thing, yet smart enough to have lived this long. "There are routes inside the Palace that can get us where we need to be; evidence lockers, libraries of blackmail and information. Enough to make a man sick, but. All that said. What is it you're really planning?"

"Whatever could you mean by that?"

"If I'm blunt, I apologize, but you don't strike me as the selfless type, Hikawa. You would go into this man's Palace for someone like her? You would put yourself in danger and tell me all this to my face? I see no future where you come out of this in one piece. And you must not see it either, so I must know. Why?"

"There is not much beyond that, though I'd be lying if I said I was doing this entirely out of selflessness."

He purses his lips. "And it has something to do with this, Shijima you brought up to me back then?" I raise a brow at him, at which he continues, "Before I say anything I would sincerely like to know much, much more about you in particular. Your explanation of events, leading up to your Persona's awakening, was fairly suspicious to me. You talk of yourself like you're a novice, but carry yourself like a veteran. To act like you had back in the Palace; so ruthless, so sure and precise in words and action - either you have an almost inhuman sense of compartmentalization, or you were lying to me when you said Suguru Kamoshida was the Ruler of your first Palace."

I shuffle my jaw and keep my eyes trained on him; upon each other we are locked, like tigers invading the other's territory. But rather than teeth that can bite through bone or claws that can tear open flesh, all we have are our words and the masks we wear, and neither can afford to slip.

"I don't like that term," I say to him.

"Which one?"

"Inhuman. It's annoying."

"Annoying?" he says, almost confused. "Didn't expect you to describe it in that sense. What about it is annoying?"

"We live such privileged lives that something even slightly beyond what most can stomach is described as being inhuman, when it's no more human than anything else we do."

"So you're a misanthrope, as well."

"Only on bad days."

"I can relate, really I can. I suppose you have a lot of those bad days, don't you, Hikawa-san? And I'm willing to wager that this Shijima is a cause for your distress."

You smug fucking prick. "Smart wager."

Looks a little sad, as he asks, "What had they done to you to drive you down this path?"

"For me to know."

"No, no, no. You tell me. Because if you want me to help you do something so reckless and stupid, I'd like to know just who I'm working with. So that I may determine how high a chance I have of dying as a result of his machinations, or his idiocy." When he realizes I won't say shit he decides he'll jostle my memory. "You figure that they were involved in the incident surrounding Kana Kohaku's mother and daughter."

I blink, whatever anxiety creeping up and squeezing my chest dry refusing to show itself upon my face. Niijima turns to me, shocked, having never heard something like this from me before.

"What, you hadn't heard, Niijima-san? He hasn't told you?"

"Told me what?" she turns to me. "What's this about a...?"

"It's just-"

"Kana Kohaku. His prior relationship. Committed suicide in December. Her mother was the victim of a mental shutdown; she committed a violent rampage which ended in the death of Kana Kohaku's child, Masako Kohaku. Both Kohaku and Hikawa were grievously injured. The mother, Asami Kohaku, committed suicide before the authorities could arrive on time."

I should have expected something like this. Should have prepared, more than anything else I should have prepared.

I knew I'd have to confront something tonight, at some point. Inspiration isn't coming.

The urge to strangle this man right here and now is beyond overwhelming. Niijima's got a face on I can't stomach, trapped between horror and disgust and pity - apprehensive I'll do something she opens her mouth to try and placate whatever's coming and I barely make it to the point where she won't need to do a thing.

"Now you listen to me," he says clearly, sternly, with such command in his voice I can't help but let him speak. "I have been assigned to work on these mental shutdown cases since they reared themselves up. People suddenly working to murder their business associates, friends, family members, random bystanders - as though at the snap of a finger. And that's my job, not yours. You're a civilian. Your vigilante justice is unwarranted, and you've already got blood on your hands. By all means I should throw you in prison. I should hound you 'til justice is served and you live the rest of your life isolated completely from the rest of society. Instead you approach me, and request my help to indulge you in your mad addiction for vengeance."

"Then we'll make a deal with you," Niijima tells him. "Help me get evidence surrounding my father's involvement in criminal activity, and we will abandon our pursuit of Shijima."

He blinks at us. "You, what?"

"It's your job to settle things with Shijima, isn't it? You're the ace detective, after all," she says seethingly. "It isn't our responsibility to put a stop to these monsters, and everything we've done up to this point has been nothing but a string of mistakes. Everything I've done up to this point has been nothing but a string of mistakes. But my father is responsible for perpetuating all of this. It may not be my responsibility, but it's my right to know what he did. To see it for myself."

"So in effect, you're doing this crusade for yourself?"

Niijima speaks for us both. "Yes."

"And what about you, Hikawa-san? I'm quite pleased with these terms and conditions, but are you?"

Of course not. But, well. Short-term lie for long-term cons. "Like you said, you're the cop. Your fucking job to fix all this bullshit."

He doesn't believe it, and neither does Niijima. But he looks at us, looks at me, carefully. In his head the wheels turn and his next statements are concise but vague at the same time: "I don't intend to do this without compensation."

"Compensation?" Niijima narrows her eyes.

"You're asking me to help indulge you in your little last gasp for closure. If I do this, I will be risking my life for you, even moreso than usual, considering I'll have to be watching over you at the same time. If we do survive, I expect you to do something for me."

"What do you have in mind?" she asks.

"Not you," he turns and faces me, "you. You, specifically, Hikawa-san."

"Why him?" Niijima asks.

"That, is for me to know," he says, though his face is that of a brick, he speaks with the tone of a grinning man. "I will not help you if you do not agree to my terms."

"I don't even know what your terms are-"

"Yet. But you will. In due time. For now, I shall leave you in the dark. You need not know what's going on just yet, but I promise you will."

Niijima gets out of her seat, "You can't expect us to accept your offer for compensation without telling us what you want beforehand!"

"Then I won't help you."

She grits her teeth, "Well, fine. We'll find our own way inside-!"

I grab her by the arm. She's stunned for a moment, even as I slowly pull her back down into her seat. My eyes are locked upon Akechi all the while, and I let his mouth morph into a shit-eating grin, as I take in a deep breath. "I accept your terms."

Niijima's eyes widen, "Hikawa, are you sure?"

"We need his help. He was able to infiltrate the Palace far enough to get as much info as he did. I'm quite alright with whatever comes."

"You don't have to do this, if you..."

"I want to, I'm quite alright, Niijima."

She turns to Akechi. "Then let me in on it as well."

"No," Akechi grunts out, "just him. Not you."

"I won't let you use him as your tool to do whatever you please," she nigh-shouts, before simmering down. "If he does this for you, then so do I. I won't just abandon him to you and trust that you have his best interests at heart."

"Perhaps I do," he smiles. Then he puts a hand to his chin, his eyes wandering over the both of us. "Very well. I suppose I can let you in on it, if you're so keen. But, only after you get what you want from the Palace. If you disagree with my terms, then we can't move forward."

Niijima doesn't respond, just turns and waits for what the hell I have to say. I extend a hand across the table, "Glad to be working with you, Akechi."

And when he takes it, it's as if I've touched barbed wire. "Here's to a fine partnership."

I keep pleasantries up for a little while longer before letting go of this man's hand, sparks in my head flying all over the place as I scramble to make a plan to save ourselves from the clutches of this man.

Because whatever Goro Akechi is, he certainly isn't this great ace detective, and he certainly is above all else a lying backstabbing piece of shit.

After exams, we've decided. From the thirteenth to the sixteenth, they will take place. On the seventeenth, Sunday, we will return to that fucking place. Hopefully with Takamaki and Maruki in tow. Thankfully, Akechi's exams take place this week, so he'll be free by then as well.

It's painfully, wretchedly silent as the both of us make our way to the trains. Akechi's proposal hangs over the both of our heads as I wonder what I could possibly say to dissuade what I know will come out her mouth. It comes lightly, not as overwhelming as it had been in months past, but it comes; a small, tiny giggle, in the corner of my mind. A little thing crawling in my periphery before disappearing. Baby hands, cupping around my ears and tousling through the locks of my hair.

"Hikawa-san," is the first thing she says once we get off the train. Near the turnstiles she confronts me, and I see black vines, squeezing her throat and slinking over her shoulders, her thighs, worming up her skirt. "We... we need to talk."

"No, we don't."

"Yes we do!" she says, obviously distressed, "You didn't - you didn't...tell me, about-"

"We don't talk about the daughter. Ever. Okay?" I say it so sternly and so harshly that anyone with a gentler soul would have been scared to death; not her, never her. But she doesn't say anything further, and I let out a sigh. "I understand what you're trying to do. I know you want to talk about it, but I don't, and I can't, and I-" I run a hand through my hair, "-I can't. I just can't. Not now, not... not ever. Do you understand?"

She blinks, her expression hardening. "I understand. I just... that's why you want to find Shijima."

"Yes. Are you going to begrudge me for that?"

"Of course not," she grunts, "I could never - I just, what they did to you, I can't even fathom-"

"I don't want that out of you, either," I growl. "I don't want your pity, I don't want to see anything like that again."

"It's not pity-"

"Niijima."

"You're planning to go after them yourself, even after we resolve everything with Tsukioka, aren't you?"

"Of course I am."

"And you didn't tell me, or anyone else."

"Of course I didn't."

"You should have! You were going to do this, and not let any one of us know!?"

"Why the hell would you even give a shit?"

"Are you kidding me!?"

"You aren't my fucking friend, you know. And if I did tell you you'd lose your fucking shit like you are now."

"I can't just let you stand by and allow you to do this to yourself!"

"Fucking hell. Cops and their fucking daughters, this another thing your dear old dad imparted upon you before he died? Another fucking lie he made you believe before he got undone by his people?"

She knows my games too well to let my words stick to her, "Hikawa-san. You're going to destroy yourself. Akechi will incriminate you or they'll just end up killing you, you can't expect me to let you do this on your own. Does, does Maruki know you-!?"

"Yes. He said he would help me, actually. Made me promise not to kill them, but. Well. You can never be too sure of what I'll do until I get there, really."

"Hikawa. You shouldn't-"

"Just fucking stop."

"Listen to me, would you!?"

"No, you listen to me! Kana's mother fucking smashed her granddaughter all over her fucking living room! She threw her around like a fucking ragdoll, rendered a baby into fucking pieces, her eyes ended up in the fucking floorboards you fucking stupid bitch you can't tell me to let this shit go!"

Niijima, again, is struck by silence, the description enough to leave her shaken. There is no longer pity or anger in her eyes, just a profound, horrified sadness that cuts into me like never before. I realize too late I've grabbed at the collar around her neck, and I pull away the instant it hits me. My breaths are heavy, shaken, tremulous; eyes watery but never overflowing. Within seconds the walls are erected again and I'm made of steel once more.

"Almost every night I see them. You understand me? They come at me, even in my dreams. I heard them and saw them when I made the first train to Shibuya. I heard and saw them whenever I'd walk through the halls of the school. I heard and saw them when you blackmailed me about Kaneshiro, I hear and see them now. It's like it just happened to me, so fresh in my mind it might as well have happened minutes ago."

I've never been sincere towards anyone since that day. The closest I've ever come before this is Maruki. And it's fucking terrible, it's horrible, it's shameful, it's embarrassing. If I could wipe her mind of this interaction right now I'd do so in a heartbeat. The words all came out in a torrent, like a waterfall, and that look in her eye is something that causes my ribs to grind against my lungs.

"Hikawa-san..."

"I can't forget it, Niijima. No matter how much you tell me I should, I can't and I won't and I-" I cover my face with my hand, "there is only one way I can let it go. Only one way I can be free."

"This won't free you, in any capacity, Hikawa," she mutters. "I should never have told you about Tsukioka. I should never have told you about Shijima, I, I should never have brought you into all of this."

"Too fucking late now, isn't it?" I seethe. "You can't stop me. You know you can't stop me, and, and, and - and fuck this. Honestly. I've no delusions about what this will do to me or for me. I won't pretend I'll get anything out of it, anything that matters."

"But you're going to do it anyway. And you'll never stop, until you find them, and rid the world of them."

"I don't have a choice but to do this."

"Yes, you do. You always have, Hikawa-san."

"I'm not talking about this with you. You can't leave your fucking dad behind, and I can't leave this behind. Least you'll get closure once we make our fucking way in there."

"HEY!" she shouts, "My father was a career criminal who sold drugs to people and got the SIU in bed with the yakuza! I am trying to find out what he did and how I can stem it before it gets worse, you are planning on getting yourself killed trying to hunt down a group of cognitive murderers! My father lied to me! He deceived me and my sister, he sold drugs to children and helped a monster let himself loose on the streets. But, this isn't just closure for me! The man I mourned all those years ago was never there to begin with, but everything he taught me still matters! Everything you've lost still matters, but the only thing that seems to matter to you now is getting rid of the people you hate!"

"And all that matters to you is making sure that some small part of the father you knew is still there, somewhere. But, for all intents and purposes, Niijima. He isn't."

"Hikawa-"

"You rag on me like this now, but you'll lose it when we return to the Palace, you know. You talk about how we should never fucking lose ourselves, all that bullshit, but nobody ever really loses themselves. Even in shit like this. They just bring other parts of themselves up to the surface. You can posture and preach all you like but in the end, you'll stare at the blood on your hands and wonder how the hell you let yourself become what you are."

"Don't you dare compare me to you!"

You are me. You're one bad day away from being me. I thought you weren't, but you are. "When push comes to shove, Niijima, I'm sure I won't even compare to the shit you'll pull."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Whatever the fuck you want. But don't pretend you're doing this with some lofty ideal in mind, Niijima."

And I just move on away from her, passing through the crowds. She rushes toward me at first, grabs my arm and tells me to stop, but I pull her away. Soon enough I pass through masses of people and she's blocked away; she calls my name loudly, harshly, and for a second I think she'll ripple through the crowd to get to me, but she doesn't. She doesn't follow me whatsoever, doesn't even call me on my phone; just watches me through stark red, downtrodden eyes as I disappear, and she calls me one last time:

"Hikawa!"

Because of that last calling of my name, even in this darkest of nights a spark of inspiration shines through, and as I pass through the crowds I can narrow down that horrible feeling of anxiety I'd felt all the way back in Tsukioka's Palace...

And I come unbelievably close to losing my mind right on the spot.

So much so I pause, allowing her to rush through the crowds, grab at me firmly, and make me face her.

Her hair is messy, but it has a certain bizarre charm. Her eyes are at their best when they're furrowed and sharp, like daggers; as she stares at me I'm locked in place and I for the life of me I cannot pull away. But their sharpness melts to a sincere, brooding, overwhelming sadness she can't show anyone else. Even in this, she's beautiful.

She deliberates on her words. Through eyes that remain wilted she says, with a throaty and thick and raw tone, "I pulled you back into this, kicking and screaming, the day I learned of Kaneshiro extorting students from our school. I wanted to do something. I felt I had to follow all the pressures of those around me and fulfill their expectations, or else I'd never be able to live with myself. But I... if ever I turn away from something like this, all I'll ever be is that person again. And I," she grits her teeth, "I have to know what kind of man my father really was. Or else it'll eat at me until the day I die. This isn't for anyone else. It's for me, and only for me. And honestly, I don't know what I'll do to Tsukioka, in the end. I don't know what I'll do or how I'll feel if ever I do find out exactly what my father was, but I wouldn't want to let everything I hate about myself dictate my next move. Because as much as that's a part of me, that's not who I want to be. And it's not what you should want to be, either."

Honestly?

She sounds like Maruki.

It's refreshing to hear such blunt honesty.

But it's agonizing, all the same. "They took my daughter from me."

She says, brokenly, "I know."

"It was like they'd torn out my insides and laid them out in front of me."

She blinks back tears forming at the edges of her eyes, "It's impossible for me to even know what it is they've stolen from you."

"The whole living room was colored red, Niijima. It was all over. Like a bag of blood had burst open everywhere. I don't want you to help me find them, I don't even want you to even think about going after them. This is between me and them. I can't, I. I know, what it is I want. I know what this will do to me. But. Do they deserve anything less?"

"You deserve more," she says. "More than this, more than them. Hikawa-san, listen to me."

"Niijima-"

"Listen to me now, please. Just this once." She says, sternly enough for me to shut the hell up, but with so little in the way of hostility that I'm sure she's without any malicious intent whatsoever. "What's happened to you is beyond anything I can describe, beyond anything I can even remotely come to understand. There's nothing I can do that could possibly fix what they've done to you or those you loved." She purses her lips, looks me dead in the eyes, grabs me by both of my hands, clasps them tight around her own, "I was wrong about you."

I shake my head weakly, "What are you talking about?"

"I called you a vindictive borderline-psychotic. I thought you were a monster. I called you insane and I couldn't even imagine there being anyone like you out there in the world."

"You weren't wrong to say any of those things."

"But I was wrong to believe that was all you were! I was wrong to believe that's all you are! Because it isn't! For every horrible thing you've done you've saved so many people, and you may not believe in that but it's the truth! And you're letting yourself believe the opposite is true because you don't believe you deserve to be anything less!"

I start chuckling sadly, weakly, as the crowds pass the both of us by and my chest sinks into itself, "What in God's name is wrong with you?"

"What?"

"You found out your father was a monster, and all you're doing now is trying to soothe my fucking nerves?"

"Hikawa."

"And they say I need a fucking therapist. You're crazy, all of you. Sakamoto's the sanest one I've met so far. If you weren't, you'd know it'd be stupid to try to talk some sense into a fucking idiot like me. You're stupid to put your fucking faith in the Devil. Look at what I've done, Niijima, look at what I'm willing to do. You know what I am, you said it yourself. You know what I'm willing to do when shit hits the fan. And you say I can, what, I can bring the fucking bad guys to justice? I can't even save my own kid, and you think I can save other people? You think I've actually saved anybody?"

"You saved me," she growls out.

"No, I didn't-"

"Yes, you did! You saved me from Kaneshiro, in that bar! You went there all by yourself so you could get me out alive! You willingly trusted me to help you stop him in his Palace! I summoned Johanna because of you! I know now that I have to live my life for no one else but myself! None of that would have happened if I never met you! Hikawa!"

"You should never have met me," I say plainly. "Whatever life you would have had if you hadn't? It would have been better."

She grits her teeth. "You're absolutely wrong. Despite everything, I don't regret it. If it weren't for you, I would have still been living a lie. Like you are, now."

She's so much stronger than I ever could hope to be. Even as she unhands me, her eyes keep themselves locked into mine. I just shake my head, "You haven't known me long enough."

And I leave her, in the crowd. She has decided to let me go, she's said enough, and she watches as I move past the remaining crowds. I feel her red eyes upon me, I feel an unquenchable illness filling the nerves in my neck; as terrible, awful, misshapen thoughts fill my mind.

Thoughts of my father, and his dastardly doings.

.

.

.

7 / 6 / 2016

Takamaki wanted more time to herself, to think. No word on if Maruki's still asleep. Yoshizawa didn't show up to class today, likely facing some anxiety; Sakamoto's still refusing to even walk in my general direction. The cat finds me after classes, sitting in the courtyard bench again. It's an all-too familiar scene to me now. Gonna have to find another place to mull over shit.

I have inputted two names into the Nav, twice each. One of them has a Kingdom. The other one, bizarrely, does not. I just stare at my phone blankly, trying to figure out what the hell's wrong, even as it approaches me.

"What's up?" cat asks me, shaking its fur.

"Can you sense Kingdoms?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Can you?"

It blinks, "If you're wondering about that brown-haired guy, no. I don't know if he has a Kingdom. I can't sense them, not like I can with Palaces."

"Why not?"

"How should I explain it?" it looks upward, contemplatively. "I can smell liars. People who deceive themselves. They let loose a certain, disgusting smell. It's how you found me in Kamoshida's Palace. I can't track Kingdoms because those who bear Kingdoms don't lie to themselves."

Hmm. Makes sense in hindsight, actually. If it knew that I have a Kingdom, it would never shut the hell up about it.

"You wanna know if he's involved with this Shijima group," it states matter-of-factly.

"Absolutely."

"You told me about how your girl's mother..."

"Yes."

"They'd something to do with it, then? You're sure?"

"Fairly certain. Nothing's a hundred percent yet. But I won't get anywhere if I sit on my ass all day."

"You put his name in the app? Does it say he has a Kingdom?"

"He doesn't."

"Well then, that problem solved itself. He doesn't have a Kingdom."

"Or...he's using a fake name."

Cat widens its eyes, "You really think that?"

"Hard to believe he's spent enough time in Tsukioka's Palace to know about all his fucking weirdo deals with yakuza; even harder to believe he knows all this about Niijima's father & sister. And not know anything about Shijima the whole fucking time. So call me a little suspicious."

"Can't help you there. For all we know he is what he says he is."

"For all we know he's a lying piece of shit." No more so than I am.

"If you'll have me, I'll help you find Shijima in whatever way I can manage," it says bluntly.

I just blink at it. "In exchange for my helping you get your body back?"

"Well, that'd help. But... I owe you."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do. I got you into all this by promising you I could help save your girlfriend, and I couldn't keep that promise. I remember what you told me, about your girlfriend's mom. Her daughter, your daughter. You want to find Shijima and bury them. Don't you?"

"Your observational skills are above and beyond anything I could ever comprehend, cat. Now leave me alone-"

"I want to make it up to you, for that day."

I just look at it, "I appreciate the help, but I don't need more empty promises. Do as you please."

"Alright then. I won't tell Niijima or the others about this whole suicidal quest you're taking on, by the way."

"Niijima already knows. Though not for lack of trying, mind you."

"Shit. How?"

"Detective Cunt decided to out my fucking past to her."

"Shame. Does Maruki know? About what you're planning to do?"

"Yes. He understands I'm still in mourning, though. Made me promise I wouldn't kill them."

"You gonna keep that promise?"

"If it were up to me, hell no. Doubt I will if ever I meet them face-to-face."

"Not like Maruki can stop you."

"Not like any of you can stop me."

"Niijima can. Sure, she'll probably lose an arm or two. But she can."

"Niijima's gonna abscond from all this the instant we're done with Tsukioka."

"You sure about that?"

"She has to."

"But will she? She's as stubborn as you."

"She has to."

"And what if she doesn't? What'll you do to her then?"

I just look at it calmly. "We'll deal with it as it comes, if it comes, which it won't."

"Which it will."

"Not. Dear God, I already have enough to fucking deal with. I don't need her on my shit."

"She'll wanna help you find these guys, you know. What are you going to do now?"

"Head to the hospital," I sling my bag over my shoulder, "And hope my therapist wakes up."

Last night, Makoto Niijima called out my name in a rage, and for some reason it struck me, it struck me so strongly that it compelled me to think, and think again, and think for the whole night, stretching out into the day. And suddenly, innumerable things make sense.

"I know that if she weren't scared, she'd have visited you at least once."

"So why didn't you visit me?"

"I was busy cleaning the mess you'd made."

Two years ago I found a man harassing my girlfriend and her mother in the dead of night, calling them vicious slurs and grabbing them by the hairs over their head. I crushed his skull, caused it to bend inwards upon itself, and put him in a sleep that by all means deserves to be nothing short of permanent. Masayoshi Shido is comatose. But before he was comatose, he was a participant in the narcotics trade. A criminal who'd grown fat and full off the money he'd wrenched from the corpses of his fellow businessmen.

"Shido's in a coma, asshole."

"But that never fucking stopped them," Baal Zebul had told me. "They seized his assets, all of them. They've grabbed us by the balls and if we so much as talk back we lose fucking everything!"

I've narrowed down that horrible feeling of anxiety. I've grabbed it by the throat and given it a name.

"One o' my fucking people squealed, told our higher-ups that I was planning to do all kindsa shit to the son of Morishige Hikawa, and they fucking called me up and screamed at me, told me I was a goddamn nutjob to even think of messing with that asshole's son."

I've written down two names in the Nav. Goro Akechi has neither a Palace nor a Kingdom. But the other?

Back in the Palace, Tsukioka transformed into his Shadow self and thrashed about madly, forcing us to escape before he could do us any harm. He raged and demanded we leave, and a horrible anxiety consumed my bones right then, and the reason for that was because he flew into his violent uproar right after Akechi demanded us to stop.

"Would you both just listen to me!?" he pleaded then. "Niijima! Hikawa!"

For what possible reason could Hideyoshi Tsukioka have, to be afraid of my surname?

What possible reason, indeed.

Kingdom Ruler: Morishige Hikawa
Kingdom Location:
Kingdom Distortion:

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Not even I thought this chapter would be as emotional as it was. Look at Best Girl, putting other people's problems above her own.

Turns out we'll be goin to the Basilica next chapter. Hope you enjoyed this spectacular rollercoaster thus far.