"Why do we use vhs's anyway?" Issei whispered out of the corner of his mouth. He saw Matsuda perk up and turn towards them a little, but Motohama was the one he was addressing, and the man in question looked thoughtful.

"It's more authentic." He whispered back. "It's an older style, and the vintage feel makes it feel better. More important."

"But it isn't."

"How dare you. Those are original copies. Some of them didn't even crack 1000 print."

Issei reared back a little, quietly insulted. "Motherfucker, do you know how much we spend on those things? A lot more than goddamn dvd's, lemme tell you."

"Oh yeah?" Motohama smirked. "Carnation Productions, the distributer who released the vhs we watched yesterday, had a bad winter in '87. They had a staff shortage, so a lot of the rent and temp workers got hands on. This eventually extended to the rest of the hired staff, as they tried to beat the end-of-year quarter to get into a different tax bracket. The women were pressured to do so; the men had a higher right of refusal due to being loaners from a different studio. Thus-"

Issei's eyes were bugging out of his head. "Wait, are you serious?!"

"That's right." Motohama was faintly grinning. "Can you say that the dvd you watched was personally packaged by the actor fresh off her set?"

Issei was blown away. Looking down, he looked at his right hand, the one that had held the vhs. To his newly enlightened eyes, it appeared to be glowing. This hand had become a part of something greater. Some higher power had woven this flesh into a destiny far beyond his meagre imagination.

"Yeah, man, when I found out, I rubbed that tape all over my body. You guys should totally look for vhs's like that too. They're a lot more personable than a cd. The history really adds a lot."

Issei leaned over, and roughly snagged Katase-san's hand sanitizer, snapping the rubber clip with a savage wrench of his hand. He placed his right limb solemnly on his desk, palm up, shattered the plastic box in his left, and slammed the entire mass of plastic shards and acid into his hand.

The hiss and pop of his flesh slowly searing from alcohol burns was only a minor comfort to the pain in his soul. To his side, he saw Matsuda slowly pull a bottle of rubbing alcohol from his bag, and the two traded understanding looks.

They both stood up together, pointedly avoiding Motohama's curious look, and slowly turned and walked out of the class mid-lecture. Matsuda had already bandaged his hand, so Issei waved him on, and turned to Hana-sensei, who was giving them dubious looks.

"I gotta go."

"You gotta go." Hana-sensei repeated.

"Yeah."

"Explain, Hyoudou."

The newfound void in his soul yawned. Issei turned to her. "Look, I gotta go. I can't. This isn't. There isn't enough alcohol in this world." He ignored her quiet mutter of amen, and stumbled right out. Matsuda was outside, slowly binding his hand with some handkerchief cloth, so Issei gave him a comforting pat with his left hand, and continued walking out of the school.

He had better things to do, and more of a life to live.

Hand newly bandaged and finally feeling like his again, Issei whistled a little as he walked to the corner store. The cashier had called him the previous day to tip him off about a new shipment, and damn it, there weren't many better ways to raise lowered spirits than a porno mag. Leaving school early to wander the town and clear his head had ended up being a good idea!

FEAR

Issei chose not to think about the reason behind his lowered spirits. Some things simply deserved no further consideration. Instead, he chose to appreciate literally anything else, like how nice and grey the sky was, or how the trash tumbling in the wind sounded like a very soft snare drum. Positive thoughts.

At serious risk of depressing himself, Issei sped up when he finally spotted the corner store around the corner. The cheap lot had rarely seemed more welcoming, a flickering neon sign branding the generic 24/7 joint as one where any man, any gentleman could approach for...needs. He slowed down only as he approached, and gingerly pushed the door open. The inside was dim, a perfect level of respect for the careful connoisseurs perusing the shelves up front. Issei joined them in silent communion, looking for titles that caught his interest while ignoring the disgusted look some of the other students skipping class shot him as they passed through to the bento aisle.

The new adds were always top-row, and skimming them revealed that there were a few titles he liked, so he reached into his pocket, interested in how many he could afford. Two or three probably...

Reality reared its ugly head as he looked into the empty folds of his cheap wallet.

Empty! How?! When?!

He shook it again, waiting for the bills to stop sticking to the sides of the cloth. He shook it a little harder, then even harder, and then physically whipped his arm up and down. And then he looked again. Empty.

Issei turned around, speed walking out of the store before he could break down. Shit! Shit! Did he spend it all yesterday? Did he really buy so much porn that he put himself into a fugue?! Shit! Yesterdissei, what even happened?! Share the porn, damnit!

As he walked, he shoved his hands into his pockets and rummaged furiously, eventually withdrawing his hand with a single 100 yen coin winking at him.

Issei had several questions; like, 'where did my money go?' and 'why is this money still here?' and 'can money evaporate?', but now he just kinda wanted a drink.

His hands were shaking as he took in last bit of change in his pockets, before it inevitably tumbled from his loose fingers. Issei froze for a second, before he dove after it. He wanted a can of coffee damnit! He wanted comfort! The coin bounced around, rolling about, and the crowd let him know exactly what they thought of his ankle-high scramble. Screams and yells echoed as he pushed past kneesocks and dress pants, mindlessly following the twinkling metal, until it came to a stop in a slim, pale hand.

He followed the pale hand, gently straightening up and accepting the coin. "Ah thanks...?" Issei blinked, and looked up. A girl was looking back at him; a girl with lovely, long black hair and a heart shaped face that made his chest hurt. A light of slight recognition flickered in her eyes, although that may have just also been the butt of the long cigarette dangling from her lips.

She seemed almost awkward, fidgeting a little on the stone bench with people around her and taking gentle puffs.

"Yo."

"Ah?" Issei blinked, looking through his memory for super hot girls he'd spoken to as he slowly slid the coin back into his pocket.

It was a short list.

"Ah! Miss Groceries!" He exclaimed, with a fuzzy memory of helping her with groceries, and her offering him her scarf in thanks for the long walk home. So that was what he'd spent his money on yesterday! He was rather pleased to see her again. God! He was so manly! He felt like a hero while helping her carry them! He'd also been hoping she'd invite him inside or kiss him goodbye, but then, Issei hoped for a lot of things.

The scarf was nice though.

Her painted lips quirked. "Ah yes...Ise-san wasn't it?"

She remembered him! Holy shit! He was so happy he was frozen! He couldn't think!

Apparently, he'd waited too long, and accidentally overheard her mutter to herself, 'was it not Ise? Was it actually Isaya? Shit, it's only been a few days, uh...'

"No!" Issei hastily yelped. "No, it's Ise-san, you got it!"

She turned back to him with an all too honest, awkwardly relieved smile, grateful that he hadn't left her on the spot.

Again! He was frozen! He couldn't even hold a conversation with this girl, everything she did charmed him! He wasn't even talking about her personality, she was just really cute!

Issei grinned somewhat dopily back. "How are you? You waiting for something?"

"Someone." She corrected, and Issei felt himself plunge into hell. The world had it's brightness setting shoot down at least 30 points. Just dark enough not to see her face anymore. If he pretended she wasn't as gorgeous as she was, maybe he didn't have to feel sad he didn't stand a chance? "A girl." She continued, putting her hand out to the side. "About yea big. A foreigner. I'm going to be helping her around. Have you seen her, Ise?"

Jack those settings back up, he still had a shot! Yeaaaaahhhhh!

"Nope!" He said, somewhat cheerful again. "A girl? Is she a child?"

"Something like that." The girl muttered. "She's the child of a priest, and a good friend of mine. Unfortunately, she's also somewhat dim, so I need to help her get settled in."

"That's very responsible, er..." Issei flushed an ugly red; he'd forgotten or not learned her name. His compliment was so lame now! She was smirking, so she'd clearly noticed. Oops.

"Yuuma." She said smoothly. "I wouldn't say I'm being particularly responsible or anything. I half-assed my last project, so I thought I'd at least nail this one."

"Yuuma-chan." Her name tasted like social superiority on his tongue. It was a nice name. Really eased the fact that he had no idea what to say, now that he was being forced to actually hold the conversation. "Er...do you know where she'll be coming from?"

"The airport."

Well, this was the taxi ringroad, so Yuuma was clearly in the right place to meet her guest. Shit! He couldn't even raise the 'show her around town' flag! This girl was social teflon!

Or maybe you're just a 2mm round his mind whispered. That joke actually hurt himself more than he'd originally expected, so he ignored it.

And maybe even that was a mistake, as the silence stretched. It was an awkward, hanging silence, where neither of them were really sure what to say. He didn't even really know this girl, and to his surprise, his endless font of chatter had run dry. No witty stories or clever insights came to mind, and even the barebones news he'd heard felt like a trite interpretation.

The girl herself seemed unbothered, eyes lazily roving the crowd, her comfortable posture at odds with her erratic, quick pulls from the cig.

Seconds stretches to minutes, and Issei's mouth continued to grow drier.

Briefly, he considered taking the plunge. She was talking to him and smiling, so he maybe had a shot? But no, that wouldn't help. Even if he succeeded, he'd cry, scream, beat his chest, crow about it from the light pole, and then climb back down here and still have no topic of conversation.

Instead, he cast his eyes and mind about, seeking an idle topic, and accidentally spotted one. A little blond girl in a massive poofy black dress growled as her baggage rolled crazily about, someone having bumped her accidentally. She burbled something loudly in...foreign...and began swivelling about impatiently, shooting everyone around her judging looks.

"Ah, I found her." Issei said regretfully. Short, blond, a little goofy. Nailed it.

Yuuma, startled, dropped her cigarette and spun around, following Issei's line of sight. The two girls met eyes before Yuuma hopped to her feet and briskly marched over. The crowd parted like waves as two irritated forces of nature collided, and they immediately hunched over and began whispering.

Issei watched a little dumbfounded as the whispers progressed to irritated jabs, to loud squeals, to the little girl literally jumping up and down in irritation. The crowd, where it hadn't simply concealed into a sticky mass of people behind them, was too dense for Issei to make out much more than that. In the end, he simply sat, impatient and curious, wondering if he'd somehow fucked up.

The two eventually bustled back, the little gothic girl pushing right past him, while Yuuma stopped.

She wasn't really looking at him, and he had the sinking feeling that he'd become a bit of an afterthought. "I'm sorry," she said, a little frazzled, a little hurried, "But I really need to go. Something urgent came up, and, I-I need to go handle that. Thank you for keeping me company." Her smile was perfunctory and polite, but her eyes were already looking elsewhere.

"Is everything alright?" Issei asked, actually somewhat alarmed. "Do you need my help?"

Her replying look was perhaps a little distant. "Afraid not, my boss is coming by to help us handle some work."

She'd intended it to be cool, but her slightly reddened cheeks were far more honest and Issei got the picture immediately. And yet, this time he didn't feel his heart break. Was it because he'd already lost hope? Or was it the hint of something lurking behind her pretty eyes, that perhaps he'd thought twice about getting closer to. His instincts, such as they were, were loudly recommending that he not look too deeply into it. But even having lost his shot, he couldn't help but admit that a girl in love was a beautiful thing to behold.

"He sounds like a good guy." Issei said, taking a polite step back and containing what internal jealousy remained. Ah! It was hard, he really did hate successful men! But, he'd give it a shot anyway.

It was, perhaps, a sign of her distraction, of her mental preoccupation, but to Issei's surprise, she answered him honestly.

"Azazel is a very good man."

And even absently, her voice was heated. Azazel, Issei remembered. If he came across the guy, he'd have to tell him to be good to Yuuma. What a lucky bastard he was!

"Good on you, Yuuma-san."

Issei began walking backwards, watching the lovely girl withdraw him from her attention entirely, as with an idle flick of her wrist goodbye Yuuma walked right out of his life.

Funny, he'd only met the girl twice, but he still felt...

...sad.

Hm. How odd.