Hello again! Sorry about the delay with this chapter - I'll try to have one up every month during the exam months, but I should be able to write one chapter every two weeks in the holidays. Thank you so much for continuing with this fic - I appreciate it!

Hope y'all enjoy!

A Quiet Night

~ Monday, April 6th, 2009 18:10 ~

Naoto used his elbow to hold the door, turning so he could shove it open with his back. He'd underestimated quite how many school books Gekkoukan required him to have for the beginning of the school term, and his hands were occupied with three heavy bags that he'd been sure were going to break at some point during the walk back. To his relief, they'd held together surprisingly well.

"Where've you been?" Sanada called over, from where he was sitting on one of the couches. He was holding a boxing glove. Not a pair of gloves. Just a single boxing glove, which he reverently ran his fingers over from time to time.

"I required some supplies for school." Naoto said, deciding not to remark on the item in Sanada's hands. Perhaps Sanada simply had a few idiosyncrasies related to boxing, since he was the boxing team's captain. He nudged to door closed, trying to get a better grip on his bags. "I returned before my curfew, so I don't think there should be any issues, correct?"

"You're fine." Sanada left the glove on the sofa, got to his feet and headed over to the kitchen. Naoto, a little unsure about what Sanada wanted him to do, followed at a distance. "I wanted to ask. You eatin' with us tonight?"

"I… I had planned to, yes. I trust that's alright?"

"Yeah, you're good. I'm making omurice for everyone, since it's pretty easy, but you're free to make whatever you want with whatever food that's not got a label on it." Sanada ran his finger down a recipe that was pinned to a corkboard on the wall. Judging by how worn the paper seemed, Sanada had probably been using this particular recipe for quite a while.

"If it's not too much trouble, I'd – like to have omurice too." Naoto said, stumbling over his wording. I hope that didn't sound presumptuous. "Do you usually make meals, or…?"

"We didn't tell you this morning, 'cause you left so early, but there's a rota for cooking. You know how to cook, or should we take you off the schedule?"

"I can follow a recipe." Naoto said quickly. I can pull my weight – I'm not useless. A twinge of pain jolted his arm, and he winced as he dropped one of the bags. Sanada glanced back when he heard the thump, then pointed at the doorway.

"Go 'n drop off your stuff. I'll have finished in twenty minutes, but if you don't turn up, I'll put some in the fridge for you to eat later." Sanada said, going back to roughly chopping up some mushrooms. Naoto silently removed himself from the kitchen, shifting the bags between his hands as he made his way up the stairs.

~ Monday, April 6th, 2009 18:37 ~

Exactly twenty minutes later, Naoto had sorted his schoolbooks onto a shelf above the desk, unpacked most of his clothes into a closet and locked his revolver in his suitcase, away from the view of the security camera. He checked his watch once more, (Grampa had impressed the value of punctuality on him – though he probably hadn't meant it to this degree) before he left his room.

The part of the stairs closest to the wall creaked when he walked on them, so he kept to the other side as he went downstairs. In the kitchen, he could see a red head of hair bent over the sink.

"Good evening, Shirogane." Kirijo said, fastening the cover on a jug of water. Beside her, Sanada carefully stirring egg into a pot of fried rice.

"Good evening, Kirijo-senpai." Naoto said, looking around for something to do. "Can I assist you with anything?"

"Could you get the cutlery from the drawer beside the fridge? There are Western and chopsticks – you choose whichever you prefer." Kirijo said, setting out cups on the dining table.

"Certainly, Senpai." Naoto hastened to his task, picking out four sets of Western cutlery from the drawer, and neatly arranging them beside the cups on the table. He couldn't remember when he'd last helped set the table for dinner – usually, Yakushiji-san ensured that all their eating and sleeping arrangements were taken care of.

Sanada grunted as he set down the pot in the centre of the table. The aroma of spiced vegetables was unmistakeably familiar, (Embarrassment. A messy kitchen, strewn with discarded bowls and utensils. Love. His mother, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Pride. His father giving him an exaggerated thumbs up as he ate a spoonful. Joy. Laughter. His family-), but he forced away the wave of nostalgia in favour of helping Sanada fill bowls with the steaming rice.

"There's salt and pepper and stuff, so use whatever you want." Sanada gestured vaguely to the condiments, sitting down. Kirijo was already seated, so Naoto took his seat beside Sanada.

"Thank you for the food." Kirijo pressed her hands together briefly, then started on the heap of rice in front of her. Naoto and Sanada quickly followed suit.

The omurice was pleasant, if a little too spicy. Naoto sipped his water discreetly, trying not to make it seem like he disliked Sanada's cooking. Kirijo, who was halfway through her bowl, set her spoon down with a loud clatter, as though she'd just realised something.

"Did you see Takeba on your way down?" She asked, looking at Naoto enquiringly. Interesting. She didn't notice until part way through the meal – perhaps Takeba is new to the dorm, and Kirijo hasn't gotten used to eating with her yet? He shook his head.

"I didn't, no. Does she usually eat with you?" Naoto took another drink of water. The spice hadn't been quite as bad after the first few bites. Kirijo frowned, standing up.

"Almost always. I'll go and see if she's doing alright." She left her place at the table, heading up the stairs. Naoto glanced at Sanada, who was watching Kirijo walk away with a concerned expression. He sighed, looking back at Naoto. Sanada pointing at his bowl with his spoon, raising an eyebrow.

"You want some more? You only gave yourself 'bout half of what Mitsuru and I've got." Sanada reached out to scoop up another ladle of rice from the pot. Naoto started, waving his hands frantically.

"No – I, I mean, I – couldn't possibly-!" He sputtered out protests as Sanada dumped some more rice in his bowl. Sanada snorted.

"You gotta eat more than that, Naoto. You're already pretty thin, and you don't have any muscle definition. A detective can't spend their entire life indoors, you know? You'll need to fight criminals – you'll need to hold your own in a fight." The jab at Naoto's aptitude for his profession swept away any respect he'd had for Sanada's observational skills. He sat up straight, brushing away the hair that fell into his eyes and fixing Sanada with an icy glare. It gave him some small degree of satisfaction to see Sanada recoil slightly.

"For your information, Sanada-senpai," Naoto said, words clipped and cold as he adjusted his hat, "I keep fit, and I regularly sparred with my grandfather's secretary. I can protect myself perfectly well in a pinch, thank you."

An uncomfortable silence descended upon the room. Sanada seemed uncertain about how to respond, Naoto noted. It was rather gratifying, to be able to quiet someone on his own without Grampa having to intervene, even if he'd probably… overreacted. Sanada had been blunt, yes, but not without concern – encouragement, even - for him. Naoto felt his face flush with embarrassment.

The creaking of the stairs alerted him to Kirijo's return – and there was only one set of footsteps he could hear. Takeba wasn't with her. Kirijo sat down, seemingly ignoring the tense atmosphere.

"Takeba will be eating later – she isn't feeling particularly hungry right now, but she's fine otherwise." She said, resuming her meal without hesitation. The tension in Sanada's shoulders eased. He was worried about Takeba. Was he simply concerned for her health, or was he afraid of something else?

"That's good." Sanada said, more to himself than to either of the others. They continued their dinner without talking, the awkward atmosphere slowly dissipating as they started to clean up. Sanada let Naoto collect his bowl, taking away the leftover rice and packing it away into the fridge. Suddenly, Naoto realised what his main reason for coming down for dinner had been, almost dropping the bowls in his surprise. What can I do to get them to tell me something? Takeba was afraid of something, I assume Sanada was concerned about something relating to her, so…

"I was – wondering." Naoto blurted out, a half-formed idea in his mind. Sanada and Kirijo turned to him, and he swallowed, before continuing. "I-If either of you heard something strange last night. I'm not quite sure how to describe it, but it… woke me up?"

Sanada and Kirijo exchanged a glance. Sanada shrugged at Kirijo, and she turned back to Naoto, shaking her head. "I'm afraid not. Do you think you might have imagined it?"

Naoto hesitated (are they lying?), then nodded. "It's entirely possible. I was rather tired last night – it was likely just a figment of my imagination." I don't think she's lying. If I wasn't supposed to hear something, they'd have likely made up something to liken the noise to, so I'd brush it off. I couldn't have heard anything to be worried about last night after I arrived. What about before I arrived?

He mused over his limited information as he washed up, organising the dishes on the drying rack. Kirijo and Sanada completed their tasks in the kitchen as Naoto finished putting away the cups. The three of them started up the stairs. Naoto made no effort to talk to the third years, too caught up in his own thoughts, only broken out of them when Kirijo stopped on the second flight of stairs to call after the boys.

"I almost forgot to mention, but a new second-year will be staying at the dorm. His name is Arisato Minato – he should arrive late tonight. I'll be staying up to meet him." She said, walking up the stairs without waiting for their response. Naoto turned to Sanada questioningly.

"Are three boys not enough to start a male dorm?" He asked, tapping his chin thoughtfully (something he'd seen Grampa do countless times).

"Ikutsuki-san is looking into sorting a new dorm for us. We'll get one soon, but until then…" Sanada shrugged, opening the door to his own room.

"I see. If that's all, I will take my leave. Thank you for dinner, Sanada-senpai." Naoto said quietly. He paused, then added, "I apologise for my misdemeanour earlier. It was uncalled for." Sanada nodded, and Naoto slipped into the safe retreat of his room. Well, obviously not safe, since there was still a camera in the corner, but the relative safety of silence and lack of people to interact with was enough for him.

That was… helpful. Not as informative as I'd hoped, but useful, nonetheless. Naoto flipped open his notebook, taking short notes about his day and the information he had to work with.

Evidently, the two third-years don't live in fear of Takeba, since they were both worried for her well-being. When all the evidence is compiled and evaluated, however, they do seem to be afraid of something. What is it? It appears at night, because Takeba was wary at night, and must not carry a gun around town with her, since her holster wasn't concealed in a way that would make a gun easy to hide in public. They didn't caution me about anything during the day, but I do have a curfew. Does that tie into anything?

Naoto sighed, scrubbing at his eyes. School begins tomorrow. I'll stay up on Saturday night to see if anything happens, but I need to sleep. And call Grampa. Prepare for school. And maybe get a mental evaluation about that hallucination earlier, but that's far less important right now.

~ Monday, April 6th, 2009 20:00 ~

The first notes of 'Jupiter' from the Planets suite played thinly over the speaker on his phone, and Naoto fumbled with the small buttons as the music swelled. Finally, he hit the answer button, holding it to his ear with his shoulder without checking the call ID.

"Good evening, Grampa. How has the Tokyo case progressed?" He said, returning to ironing the fold creases out of his new school uniform.

"Good evening, Naoto." Grampa's voice sounded faintly amused. "Right to the point, I see."

"I only have two numbers on this phone, Grampa, and both you and Yakushiji-san text before calling. What happened with the case?" The iron sizzled, and Naoto scowled, tossing the ruined shirt in the bin and taking a new one out of his closet.

"The case has... Well. A proper investigation has uncovered a far more complex case than was originally thought. Premeditated kidnappings at least a day before each murder, with a rough structure to them. There's been another death since you left, another police officer."

Naoto frowned, smoothing out a particularly stubborn crease with his knuckles and letting the iron rest on it for an extra second. "I thought the second victim's husband said he'd seen her that morning."

"He did. We're looking into him right now, actually." Grampa was silent for a moment.

"The killer seems to be following some kind of pattern, going up in rank through the police force and those involved with it. You won't be able to join me in Tokyo for a long time, and there's the possibility of you getting involved somehow.

Are you sure you don't want to go back to Inaba with Yakushiji-san? There's far less of a chance of you being targeted to force me into a corner there." The concern in Grampa's voice was clear, but there was no point. Naoto already hated the Estate enough – he wasn't going to put himself through being there without Grampa. It was too hollow for him to stay there alone, even if Yakushiji ended up staying with him the whole time.

"Grampa, you were the one who said that you trust Ikutsuki-san, and that your faith in Tatsumi Port Island's police force was second only to Inaba's. You need Yakushiji-san, if the case is as complex and dangerous as you say. Besides, I met with Detective Kurosawa earlier, and I doubt I'd be able to get the same level of work in Inaba." He said, concealing the slight waver in his voice with a cough, switching the shoulder he was holding the phone with as he laid out the ironed shirt with his new blazer and trousers.

"True, but you'd be safer-" Grampa started, but Naoto cut him off, rolling his eyes as he put away the iron.

"I'm perfectly capable of self-defence, Grampa. I do have a gun."

"Alright, Naoto. Just be careful, you hear me?" Grampa sighed. The resignation in his voice made Naoto feel slightly guilty, but there wasn't a single chance of him going to the Shirogane Estate without Grampa, so he kept his tone firm as he replied.

"I will be."

"And talk with Shuji or Kurosawa if you need to. Kurosawa owes me for assisting him with the rebuilding of the police force in Tatsumi Port Island after an incident about a decade ago, so he was willing to assist me in getting you a spot working at the station."

"Understood. Thank you for that, by the way. The work he has me on is ideal for building experience."

"I'm glad. Take care of yourself – and make some friends!"

"Grampa!" Naoto hissed, an embarrassed flush colouring his cheeks. He slumped down on his bed, dragging a hand over his face.

"You don't need lots, just one or two. Socialise a little, get used to being around people again, alright?" There was a quiet kind of steel in Grampa's voice. Naoto scowled to himself, but caved.

"... I'll try." He said, and the world jolted. The fan on his desk stopped whirring, the chirping of insects outside was abruptly cut off, and the soft feedback that played through the phone's speakers was silenced. Naoto inhaled, pressing a palm to his chest as he felt a crack and a warm(?) rush of... Of something flooded through his ribcage, filling him with an almost blissful feeling of peace. It feels just like it did back at the police station, Naoto noticed absently, distracted by the card floating over his hands.

I am thou, and thou art I,

Thou hast spun another's string of fate into thine own,

If it should turn the Wheel in thine favour and aid thine quest,

Thou shalt be blessed, should thine Arcana ever align with the Temperance Arcana.

As before, the card (the card had a design of four quarters, all coloured differently, with different symbols on each quarter) shimmered out of existence. The woman's voice, so irritatingly familiar that he could almost recognise it, recited the same words as before, but if Naoto wasn't mistaken, the "Arcana" had changed – from the "Hierophant" to "Temperance". The warmth in his chest faded as Grampa replied, speaking as though there had been no interruption.

"Thank you. I love you."

Naoto paused. It was rare for Grampa to be so blunt with affection. "I love you too. I'll call you after school tomorrow." He said, clicking a button to hang up. The phone dropped out of his hands, and Naoto slammed his head backwards onto the mattress, flinging his arms out to the side in an awkward starfish.

I'm not intoxicated, or under the influence of anything – as far as I know. I'm not tired, I presume I'm not insane. Whatever's happening to me – right now, I can only assume it's real. Naoto stared up at the ceiling, running a hand through his messy hair, tugging on one of the longer locks thoughtfully.

The Hierophant. Temperance. Arcana. The Wheel. Strings of Fate. What do all these things tie into? What links them? What's capable of stopping time? Fixing his mind on a few questions was simpler than focusing on the impossibility of what he was considering (though, the possibility of magic and superpowers did fill him with a childish surge of glee). Naoto sat up, rolled over onto his front, and switched on the laptop he'd left on his pillow.

xXx

Naoto tapped the pen against his bottom lip, reviewing the notes he'd made on the various words he'd heard.

First, the Hierophant. A tarot card, representing tradition, morality and pursuit of knowledge or truth about the world or oneself. He'd heard the word in reference to Kurosawa, which seemed fitting – the man was clearly dedicated to his police work.

Next, Temperance. The first definition was of the virtue of abstinence from alcohol, or self-moderation. On the other hand, it could also refer to a tarot card, representing the middle path, patience and finding balance as one adapts to various situations. This one had been in reference to Grampa, which also made sense – Grampa hadn't had alcohol since high school if Yakushiji was to be believed, and he was the very definition of learning to adapt and find balance in life.

Arcana. A word that could mean secrets, or mysteries. It could also refer to tarot, where there were twenty-two major arcana, and fifty-six minor arcana (Tarot is a common link, Naoto had scribbled in the margin of the page).

The Wheel – going with the theme of tarot, the Wheel of Fortune was another card, representing change, cycles, luck and fate, and the inevitability of balance, best portrayed by the words 'What comes up, must come down'. The words resounded strangely inside Naoto's head, and there was a sense of recognition he couldn't quite place.

Finally, strings of fate. In Greek mythology, they referred to the threads of life spun by the three Fates – Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos. In Japanese and Korean culture, they could refer to the 'red thread of fate', a string that was supposedly wrapped around someone's finger and tied them to a soulmate, or someone that they were destined to meet. (The only reference that I remember that does not hold a link to Tarot. However, Tarot is often used as a source of insight into one's life – their fate, one might say.)

The words that I remember made out the people I were talking to be the "Arcana" – so they must be represented by said "Arcana". In that case, I suppose that the "Arcana" that represents me is "The Wheel of Fortune"? And I am someone who has some degree of control over others' lives – shown by my "spinning" my string of fate into others'.

With a thoughtful hum, Naoto closed his notebook. The idea of supernatural forces and powers, capable of stopping time and the like, was intriguing (and awesome, it was just like that one episode from Phoenix Ranger Featherman R… which he'd forgotten to watch on Sunday. He'd have to watch the new episode later in the week), especially in that it related to him in some way. Now, the next step would be to figure out what had instigated the time-stop.

I… was talking with someone, both times that it happened. I was talking with them, and before the time-stop I… Agreed, to something? Naoto dredged up the details he could remember of Kurosawa's conversation with him, comparing them to his chat with Grampa.

Yes, I agreed to do something for the people I was talking to. I agreed to tell Kurosawa if I required a break, and I agreed to attempt to make some friends when talking with Grampa. So, the 'trigger' for these occurrences is to talk to someone, and make some kind of deal with them? Perhaps my arrival in Tatsumi Port Island also had something to do with it – I'm certain I've made deals with people before without this kind of thing happening.

The reasonable thing to do, Naoto decided, would be to test this. I wonder if I can lead a conversation with someone onto a topic where they ask me to do something that I can agree to?

Maybe tomorrow. Naoto yawned widely, piling the laptop and his notebook on a chair grabbing his sleepwear. For now, sleeping sounds like a good plan.

~ ? ??, ? ?:? ~

There were voices downstairs. Groaning, Naoto shoved away the bed covers, sluggishly forcing himself out of bed. He couldn't find his coat, or a pair of shoes, so he padded barefoot across the landing. Naoto peered over the banister, watching Takeba and Kirijo talk. There was someone standing behind them – a girl, if he wasn't mistaken. She was a bubbly looking teen, wearing a bright pink sweater and one earphone looped around the top of her ear.

"Why do you have a gun?" She asked, directing her question towards Takeba. Naoto perked up, listening with as much focus as his sleep-addled brain could manage.

"Huh? Um, well it's sorta like a hobby…" Takeba stumbled through her answer, and Naoto grinned to himself, relieved to finally have some confirmation about the gun's existence. He looked over to check, and the gun was definitely in the holster on Takeba's leg. "Well, not a hobby, but…"

There was an awkward pause. Kirijo stepped up to take over the conversation. "You know how it is these days. It's for self-defence." There was some level of satisfaction in having his suspicions confirmed. Sanada almost certainly know about the gun too, if Kirijo does. Gun licenses are difficult to come by, but I'm sure the Kirijo group could have –

"It's not a real gun, of course." Kirijo continued, and Naoto scowled. Why would she have a model gun for self-defence? She's clearly afraid of something dangerous, not just a robber. Why else would she have been so antsy? Besides, she hid the gun from me. Why do that, instead of just explaining?

"It's getting late, so you should get some rest. Your room is on the third floor, at the end of the hallway. Your things should already be there." Kirijo turned to Yukari, clearly waiting for a response.

"Oh, I'll show you the way. Follow me." Yukari chipped in, and the girl nodded, letting herself be led upstairs.

"I'm Minako, by the way. Minako Arisato. It's nice to meet you!" She said, smiling brightly at Yukari, who seemed a touch confused by the peppy introduction. Naoto stumbled back from the bannister, darting back down the hallway. Before he went into his room, however, he turned back, catching Arisato's eyes for a second. The girl looked a little startled, but grinned at him all the same. He offered a quick nod of his head, then ducked into his room, unseen by Takeba.

The room, he almost noticed, was empty. His suitcase wasn't in the corner, his personal items weren't on the desk, and the closet was locked closed, unlike how he'd last left it. Unaware, and unwilling to care, Naoto slipped back into bed and closed his eyes.

And that's part two of the previous chapter! Initially, I didn't want to spend more than a chapter on Naoto's first day, but that got thrown out of the window real quick. I'll try to get the next chapter up within the next three weeks, but no promises.

As always, constructive criticism is appreciated.

Thanks for reading!