The next time they met, Rinchei procured a pair of tickets to the cinema, a grin on his face as he handed over the drawing book. She looked back an forth between him and the drawing book before deciding to read he had written.

"My parents said I should take out my 'girlfriend' on date. You can have them and go with your friend instead."

It was obvious he had been trying not to laugh from the way his handwriting jutted out at strange angles. Confusion turned into amusement and Juri laughed, clutching her chest.

After calming herself down, Rinchei patting her back as she choked on air, she took one of the tickets and flashed it at him. She grinned.

"Let's go together then, friend."

Rinchei facepalmed good-naturedly. At her confused face, he took back the drawing book and flipped it once he was finished.

"I'm sure my sister will be there to snap our pictures, and it'll all be your fault. So you're responsible to explain everything."

Taking that as a challenge, Juri smiled in mischief, devious plans starting to form in her mind.

"Oh don't worry. She won't."

Rinchei stared at her in concern, growing more so as she whispered her plan to his ear.

[You're a little devil] he signed when she pulled back.

She (learned from the best) grinned.

"I aim to please."

Juri liked to think of family dinner as a stageplay. The family members were both her fellow actors and audience, because only she knew the script, and everyone else followed her lead. She needed only to say the right words, and they'd give her the response she wanted, slowly distancing them from probing into her personal life. Except–

Except she'd promised dad, promised Takato, to try and communicate more with her family, (step)mom included.

So she put down her chopsticks, stared at everyone in the room, and hesitantly threw out all the lines she'd perfected and memorized over the past years.

"I'm going out with a friend tomorrow," she announced, carefully watching the changing faces of her family. Going off script meant she didn't know how they'd react.

Ideally, an acknowledging nod would be nice. That way she didn't have to keep the conversation going.

But life was not a stageplay.

"Will you be gone long?" (Step)mom asked, a smile drawn on her motherly face.

Juri didn't miss how the woman knew, and gave a green light to, her intention to stay out late into the night.

"Maybe a bit later after dinner. Then I'll come straight back home."

(Step)mom nodded at the answer.

"I'm glad you're breaking out of your shell," she didn't say, but Juri knew the woman was thinking of it.

Masahiko, the five-year-old he was, paid more attention to the food he was playing with. A slight curious glance at her and he was back to drawing shapes in his rice.

Dad, the person she wanted the most reaction from, grunted with a nod. His face twitched as he drew an awkward smile, as if he wasn't sure what he was doing. (Step)mom elbowed him in the ribs when he took too long to response.

"Sure. Uh... As long as you finish your homework," he said and hesitantly returned to his meal, eyes briefly glancing up in uncertainty.

He was trying at least, and that was one good change from before.

In a way, being held hostage by a monster from worlds beyond for over a week, without food or water no less, was a silver lining in the gloomy cloud that used to hover over the Katou household. Now there was no cloud. Only gloom.

(Step)mom sent a placating smile in her direction.

Juri considered telling him that her friend was a boy almost twice her age, but discarded the idea soon after. Even without any script, she just knew he'd just nod and then tell her how she could take care of herself.

"Okay," she finally responded before picking up her chopsticks again, absenmindedly counting the individual grains of rice in her bowl.

Despite the conversation going just as she wanted, she felt more disappointed than anything.

"Masa-chan, can you pass me the soy sauce?" she said, almost sighing.