Chapter 22

Refresh and Decompress

Akira was unable to open his eyes as some sense of the world came back to him. He only knew that he was awake because his whole body hurt as well as feeling extremely difficult to move. He pried his eyes open, causing them to sting and tingle as he was nearly blinded by the little light that illuminated the room he was currently laying in. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a quiet, sickly groan as the world started to come into some focus. He then felt a hand on his left shoulder, and he felt like he was prying his neck to get a glance of who was beside him. The figure was blurry, but he could tell by the height and distribution of colors that it was Takemi.

"We really must stop meeting like this," she remarked. Akira could not quite tell if she was making a joke or not.

"Am I…" He tried to speak, but his throat felt full and hot, preventing him from articulating any of the many thoughts rushing through his mind.

"Alive? Yes, you are," Takemi nodded. "Rather surprising, honestly, given what you got hopped up with, but you are indeed alive. And your blood was able to give me quite a bit of valuable research data."

"You're welcome," Akira groaned. Finally regaining some movement in his body, he rubbed his eyes and face as he became more used to the light. "How long was I out?"

"Going on five hours. It's almost four in the afternoon now."

Akira groaned in pain as his head started pounding. Rubbing the sides of his head, he said, "Is everyone alright?"

"Are you referring to Mishima?"

The memories of that day, especially Mishima taking a bullet for Makoto, came back to him in full clarity. He rested his arms at his sides and was suddenly very worried of the response Takemi would give him. "Well, I meant everyone, but yeah. How is he?"

"Your friends are doing well, just resting now. Mishima is stable. I was able to remove the bullet with little issue, but he's not exactly in great condition either." Takemi sat in a chair beside the bed Akira was laying on, appearing pensive. "He's not the strongest guy out there, Akira," she explained. "Had it been anyone else I know in the Clan, they'd probably be back to fighting strength inside a week, but Mishima's not as strong as them, and he lost quite a bit of blood. I don't foresee him sustaining any permanent injuries or other complications, but that wound is going to take time to heal. Time, as far as I understand, you do not have."

Akira stared up to the ceiling and sighed. "What should we do then?"

"Get him home," Takemi replied. "It's too dangerous for him to stay here. Hell, it might be too dangerous for you and your friends here too, but I don't think any of you are about to leave."

"Almost want to at this point. Have you talked to Mishima about all this yet?"

"No, he's been resting, and I'm not about to wake him up for this kind of news. Oh, by the way," Takemi reached to the bedside table beside Akira and handed him the phone, "you need to make a phone call."

"What?"

"To put it plainly," she began, "Futaba wants to make sure you're alright, but she doesn't feel up to coming down and checking herself. She's also not open to visitors at the moment, but she still wants to know that you're okay."

"She does?" Akira looked back to her. "Why?"

"Don't know. Guess she took a shine to you. Now take the phone, I'll dial."

She handed him the phone and he took it awkwardly, struggling to sit up. The phone rang a few times, then he heard the rumble and rustling of someone picking it up, but there was no response. "Hello?" Akira asked. He heard the quietest gasp, but nothing else. "Futaba? Are you there?"

After a moment, he heard, "Mmhmm."

"Takemi told me that you wanted to check on me. Is that true?"

Futaba made a very high-pitched gasping sound, likely out of embarrassment. Before Akira could try to assuage her, she said again, "Mmhmm."

"Well, I'm very flattered." He could not help but smile. "Thank you for that. I had a rough day, but I'm feeling better now, thanks to Takemi. I'm sorry if you got scared. Just know that everyone is okay now."

There was a long moment of silence on the other line. "Good," she finally said very quietly. "I got scared…"

"I know, and I'm sorry again. How's your grandpa?"

"Fine," she said quickly. "He left again."

"I see," Akira nodded. "Are you okay? Do you want to watch some anime maybe?"

"No," she replied immediately.

"Oh, uh, sorry, I understand—"

"Just not now. Maybe another time."

Akira's smile returned to his face. "I'm looking forward to it. Whenever you feel ready."

"Mmhmm," Futaba said again. "Uh, get some good rest?" Akira chuckled, but caught himself when Futaba produced another embarrassed gasp. "Sorry!"

"No, no, it's okay," he replied calmly. "Thank you for that. Try to get some rest too. It should be easier knowing everyone is okay."

"Easier… Everyone is okay…"

"That's right. I'll talk to you soon, Futaba."

"Mmhmm. Talk soon."

"Bye."

"Bye." She quickly hung up, and Akira placed the phone back on the stand.

"She was pretty chatty today," he remarked.

"I'm amazed," said Takemi. "She never talks to anyone like that. She hardly ever talks to me that much."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Especially when she gets scared like she was." Takemi looked off to the side, resting her chin in her hand. "Anytime the news shows coverage of a big yakuza conflict, she gets terrified that Sakura won't come home. They have pagers for themselves for her to make sure he's okay whenever she gets scared. We even set up an emergency message for her in case she needs him home immediately because she's so rattled. I have my misgivings about Sakura, but I can at least say he always drops everything to come back and make sure Futaba knows he's okay."

A memory nearly forgotten suddenly sprung to Akira's mind. "That time at the café," he muttered. "There was an assassination and Sojiro got a message on his pager. He got really quiet and defensive before making us immediately head back. That must be what it was."

"About a week or so ago, right? That would be it; I was with her that night. When she heard on the news about the assassination, she became hysterical. I got her to calm down just enough to page Sakura and get him to come home. I try to encourage her not to watch the news, but she doesn't listen. She insists that she had to know at all times if there's something endangering her family."

"Why's that?"

"Family stuff." Takemi looked back to Akira, seeming tired by the conversation. "They've lost some people really close to them, and they don't want to lose anymore."

"I see," Akira nodded. Sighing, he said, "I feel bad for her. She must be feeling terrible, what with everything going on."

Takemi slowly nodded. "You have no idea," she muttered. The change in tone drew Akira's attention, but she quickly composed herself and stood up. "Your friends will want to see that you're awake," she said. "Don't worry, you should be on your feet within the hour. Just try not to get in any more fights," she smirked at him. "Doctor's orders."

Akira could not help but smile in turn. "Yes, Ma'am," he replied with a nod.

Takemi chuckled, walking to the other end of the room. "'Yes, Ma'am'," she repeated, pleasantly amused. "Oh, and by the way," she continued, "I cleaned the scars on your arms. With everything going on, it seemed like you hadn't tended to them in a while, and they appeared contaminated. You should be alright now." Akira's face went bright red at the mention of his self-inflicted marks. "Don't worry, no one else knows," Takemi added, turning back to him. "But they're not going to be kept in the dark forever. They're going to find out, Akira. And I doubt they'll be happy to see how you tend to deal with hardship." Before giving him a chance to answer, she exited the room.

Akira laid back on the bed, breathing deeply in and out. He still felt lightheaded from the day's events, and likely whatever Takemi had given him to help, but he at least had gained some of his strength back. Now he was tired more than anything, but the memories of what had transpired were still flowing through his mind, murky and clouded. He remembered the unspeakable pain he felt when the drug overtook him, how the world around him went red, until everything else that happened while he was under the influence became a jumbled, disconnected haze of images and sounds. No matter how he tried, he could make nothing intelligible out of the memories of the experience, save for that pain.

A rumbling of footsteps sounded off at the door, and in walked his friends, sans Mishima. Akira say up in bed and gave them a smile as looks of abject relief came across their faces. Ann's smile upon seeing him, bright and warm like the sun over his river back home, brought renewed strength and stability to his body as well.

"You're alive!" Ryuji exclaimed, giving off a beaming smile.

"You thought I wasn't?" Akira joked back.

"Well, Ann was pretty worried," he pointed to her before recoiling as she flicked him on the head with her finger.

"We all were, Akira," she added, her smile returning to her face. "Are you alright?"

"Don't feel much worse than a hangover. Given what we know about the RZ-412, I consider myself pretty lucky."

"We all do," Ann nodded. "That was terrifying, seeing you go through that."

"We didn't bear witness," said Yusuke, "but what Makoto and Ann told us was enough. I'm deeply sorry you had to go through that on our account."

"Better me than any of you," Akira nodded. "But thank you for the thought. Still, I don't know if any of you would have survived. It was… nightmarish."

"Can you tell us about it?" asked Makoto. "Any information you have may be vital to our understanding of what we're up against."

Akira looked to the floor, thinking back to what he had experienced. "I felt something prick my shoulder," he began. "It was some tiny needle. Someone wearing black shot me from the stands; I caught a glimpse of him before my vision started to turn hazy, even red. My heat was already up more than it ever had been before, but that was unlike anything I could have imagined."

"Your heat?" asked Ann. "You mean your power?"

"Yeah," Akira nodded. "My mom called our fighting spirit 'heat' when I would train with her. I always thought it was just adrenaline, which can make you physically stronger, improve your reflexes, just make you a better fighter when your fight-or-flight kicks in. This is kind of like that, but… more. So much more. More than anything I ever thought possible. I can see better, hear better, kind of feel my opponent's moves before they make them, and my body reacts before my conscious mind does. And I definitely get stronger than normal; I could never throw or take those blows like that normally."

"And the RZ-412 enhanced that?" Makoto asked.

"I think so. For a moment, that feeling I get when I activate my 'heat' became stronger than ever. My whole body was on fire, inside and out. I became hyper aware of my surroundings, and everything felt clearer and intensified. Then I felt like my head was going to explode."

"We saw your flames get bigger and brighter," said Ann. "They were a deeper shade of blue and seemed to encompass your whole body."

"I definitely felt it, and I've never felt any painful heat from them before. Just an invigorating warmth, like coming off of the best workout of my life. But I also felt increased aggression, anger. I was barley cognizant of it, but I knew I had changed. I don't normally act that way… and it kind of scares me to think about. It reminds me of Kamoshida."

Ann shook her head. "This is nothing like that. You were fighting for survival."

"She's right," said Ryuji. "You got in a fight with someone much stronger than you and let loose. This doesn't have anything to do with Kamoshida."

"But I lost control anyway."

"You were under the influence of a drug," Makoto added. "You can't blame yourself for that."

"Even before that, something felt like it was going to snap in me," Akira stood up shakily. "I don't like that feeling. I can't let myself lose control like that ever again. I've done it once before, and that was more than enough," he looked to his friends with a dark expression. "From now on, I'll be more careful, more controlled. You won't see me like that again, I promise."

Ann took a step forward before anyone could respond. She placed a hand on his shoulder and looked into his eyes. "If you ever get in a bad spot," she began in a near whisper, "give it everything you've got. Promise that instead."

Akira looked down, putting his hands on his hips. She really shot me down quick with that one. Nodding, he replied, "I'll think about it," as their eyes met. Ann smiled, and Ryuji gave him a thumbs up from behind her, bringing a smile to his face.

Yusuke then added in a cold tone, "We are at war, Kurusu. Whatever happened with Kamoshida is irrelevant to that. No matter what happens, we don't want to see you, or anyone else here, be defeated on the cusp of victory."

"Well said," Akira nodded. "Thanks, guys."

"We probably shouldn't have to say it in the first place," said Ann with a smirk, "but at least the message got through. Now, we should probably check on Mishima."

"I was just gonna say that," said Akira lightly. "Hope he's not taking this too hard…"

Across the hall was the room Mishima had been lain up in. They found him laying on a bed with clean bandages around his midsection, staring into the ceiling. When he heard them come in, he mustered a weak, exhausted smile.

"How are you holding up, hero?" Akira asked, smiling back.

Mishima lightly chuckled in his throat at Akira's greeting. "I feel like I've been shot."

"And how does that feel?"

"Like shit. But I think I'm past the worst of it."

"Good to hear," Akira nodded.

"Mishima-kun," Makoto spoke up, standing out in front of the group, "I cannot thank you enough for what you did. However, I can apologize for putting you in that position." She bowed low to the young man. "I am so sorry this happened to you."

The smile on Mishima's face faded, and he suddenly looked far more exhausted. "Don't be," he shook his head. "I came here to help you exact justice, remember? If this is how I accomplish that… well, it sucks, I admit. But at least I know that I did something."

"You did more than anyone ever has," said Makoto. "I can still hardly believe you actually took a bullet for me."

"Well, even if it means my time helping you guys out is over, at least I can walk away with a clear conscious."

"Did the doc tell you?" asked Ryuji.

"No, but she doesn't have to." He looked off to the side. "I'm gonna pull through, I know that. But it's gonna be a while before I'm able to kick ass with the likes of you guys again. I'd only get in the way if I tried to tag along, or just get killed outright this time."

"Mishima…" Makoto sighed.

"I'm not gonna jeopardize your mission, guys. Not when you're this close to taking down those bastards," he turned back to his friends. "It's been a great ride everyone," he smiled. "I'm honored that I could make it this far with you, and be of some help."

"You saved my life," said Makoto, smiling as well. "You did so much more than just 'be of some help'."

Mishima nodded, laying back on the bed. "Then I can go home with a clear conscious. And don't worry, guys. When I'm back on my feet, I'll find some way to support you from back in Shibuya. I'll spread the word, tell people about how there are good people fighting to end this crisis. I'll tell them the truth about what's really going on in Kamurocho."

"If you can do that safely," said Yusuke, "it could be a great help. God knows what the public think about all this chaos."

"That's why I'll be cheering you on," Mishima smiled. "Should be able to go home tomorrow, I think. Once I do, I'll be in your corner until every one of you joins me back on the Shibuya strip. Don't worry about me," Mishima gave a thumbs up. "I'll still have your back."

"We'll be looking forward to it," said Akira. "I'm glad you're feeling okay, buddy."

"Well, I will be, at least." All the friends shared a light but pleasant laugh. "Take care of yourself, guys. I wish I could come with you, but I guess it wasn't in the cards."

Ann added sympathetically, "You're just needed elsewhere. That's all."

Mishima laid back on the pillow. "I'll remind myself of that on my way back home. Thank you, guys."

They bid their last thank you's and goodbyes; a quick process, given Mishima's still weak and exhausted condition, but the moment was tender, nonetheless. Makoto said a few more thank you's to Mishima, gave two more bows before they exited the room. Akira seemed now about back to normal, though still moving more sluggishly than he usually did.

At this moment, Ann noticed Akira's attire was not exactly up to par, being only a button up shirt and completely ruined slacks. She perked up, her smile warming up the dour room, saying, "Hey! Why don't we go take our minds off things with a new wardrobe!"

Everyone looked back at her with perplexed expressions. Ryuji deadpanned, "What?"

"Let's go engage in nature's decompressor and get some new clothes!" she pumped her fist enthusiastically. "I mean, Akira especially could use some new threads, what with… uh," her attention was grabbed by the stain on his pants where he had vomited.

Akira piped in, nodding. "Yeah, I know. I look like death."

"Well, you're not wrong," Ann shrugged.

"I, for one," Yusuke added, "am rather comfortable with my attire."

Ann's smile turned to a pout. "You don't have to buy new clothes, everyone. I just thought it might be nice to get out and do something to take our minds off what happened today. You know, a friends' day out?"

"If we can avoid drawing the attention of the masses and press," Makoto muttered.

"Come oooon!" Ann crooned. "You know you all want to blow off some steam! And Akira, do you actually want to have your wardrobe filled with nothing but yakuza dresswear?"

A few minutes later, after allowing Akira time to change into some clean loungewear, they were walking down Taihei Boulevard, heading to a trendy clothing shop at the Nakamichi Street corner called "Strut". The displays were lined primarily with expensive, brand-name women's clothing, though there was a slightly smaller men's section tucked away in the back right corner of the store, offering everything from suits to loungewear. Ann immediately sprang into action, inspecting the offering of high-end street and urban style clothing. She would look at a graphic tee or jacket on the rack, look at Akira, then put it back, one after another. After a few minutes, even Makoto started to take part in the ritual while the boys stood off to the side awkwardly, occasionally taking a look at the odd shirt or jeans.

"So, Akira," Ann spoke up while holding a long sleeve shirt with a graphic of a skull and crossbones on the front, "what's your style? What do you like to wear when not on the job?"

"Well, generally whatever I have that's comfy. I'm too busy to think about it much anymore."

"I asked what do you like to wear," Ann pressed with a smirk. "Maybe I should ask about what you want to wear?"

"Hmm," Akira hummed, looking at the rack beside Ann. "I don't need anything too flashy, honestly. Given everything going on, I'm more concerned with flexibility."

"And you can have flexibility and practical application without being boring!" Ann beamed at him. "Just because you're out there kicking ass doesn't mean you can't leave a strong visual impression at the same time!"

Ryuji enthusiastically added, "Hell yeah! Everyone thinks you're a hero now, man! You gotta look the part!"

Akira chuckled as he looked back at the shirt rack. He picked up a black tee with gray trimming around the collar and travelling up from the waistline to the end of the sleeves. "It's soft," he said, "good material, easy to move in, would match with about anything. What about this?"

Yusuke rubbed his chin ponderously. "On its own, it just looks like something one would wear to the gym or around town in the summer. There's no artistic flourish to it. Perhaps…" Beside him was a display of designer men's jeans. He picked one up and unfolded it before inspecting it meticulously. "The deeper blue coloration could match the shirt well," he explained. "There's a richness to the shade you do not normally see in denim jeans. It's slimmer fit, but the material is quite elastic, fitting your criteria for flexibility, Kurusu. This would show off your figure and improve your overall look whilst allowing you to execute your normal martial arts moves with relative ease."

"Um, thanks?" Akira said with confusion at the remark about his "figure".

"Wow, Yusuke," Makoto remarked. "I guess your eye for art doesn't end at paintings and tattoos."

"I may have only dabbled in fashion myself, but many aesthetic principles are applicable across all forms of art. As a tattoo artist, I believe one's body can be a beautiful canvas, and that does not only apply to the skin," they exchanged warm smiles.

Akira nodded, saying, "Alright, I'll give it a try." Yusuke gave him the pair of jeans with a slight bow of the head. "Anything else I need?"

"A bit of bling," Ryuji chimed in with a cocky smirk. "How about a flashy belt?"

"The ones I have aren't enough?"

"Akira, we're getting you a new outfit! We have to pick up all the new pieces together."

Ann giggled to herself. "I didn't know you were so fashion conscious, Sakamoto."

"One of the biggest parts of being a yakuza is appearance and street cred, Takamaki," he proudly proclaimed. "You gotta leave a really good first impression with everyone around you, and the best way to start a new friendship or fight is with your clothes. Let everyone know your status and attitude before you say a single word," he winked at her.

"Well said," she nodded with a wide grin.

"Quite astute," Yusuke added, nodding.

"Most impressive," said Makoto approvingly.

"Alright, you've made your point," Akira shrugged with a smile. "If you're such an expert, wanna find one for me while I grab a jacket? I think one might look good over this shirt."

"Leave it to me, bro!" Ryuji threw him a confident thumbs up. "Yusuke, wanna give a grunt a hand with your keen eye?"

"Certainly," Yusuke nodded, obviously relishing the good mood everyone was in. "Akira's entire visage shall be made a masterpiece, or I will forever lay down my brushes!"

Despite his complete sincerity, everyone else shared a laugh at Yusuke's bravado. "Don't put too much pressure on yourself, man," said Akira pleasantly. "Just find something you think will work."

"No, Kurusu-san, it will not simply 'work', but complete the piece! Come, Sakamoto! We shall scour every inch of this store until we find the perfect belt!"

"Every inch?" Ryuji's smile suddenly faded.

"Leave no option left untested when searching for the perfect final touch to an art piece, my friend. None at all."

Ryuji looked back at his friends with far less comfort and sureness as Yusuke led him off to the other end of the men's section, leaving Akira alone with the girls who all shared a chuckle at their friend's potential misfortune. "He's a strange one, that Kitagawa," said Akira. "But when he actually gets to let his hair down, he seems like a nice guy."

"I think his quirks are endearing," Makoto added. "They certainly help to lighten our often dour moods."

Ann said with her same bright smile, "Then it's a good thing he's on our team. Hmm, maybe I should get him to give me a tattoo sometime," she muttered pensively. "But before that, we need to find this boy a jacket, Makoto! A hero like him needs a dangerous look, but not quite thuggish without looking like a dad."

"Precisely," Makoto nodded, taking the spot beside Ann in front of the display of jackets. "Something that says 'I'll kick your ass, but only if you make me'."

Ann giggled once again to herself. "It's like we're trying to kit out some kind of anime character."

"I know!" Makoto perked up. "This is going to be fantastic!"

As they continued to talk excitedly amongst themselves, Akira crossed his arms to admire the image. He felt happy that they were getting along, acting like two genuinely good friends in spite of their very rocky past together. They compared and contrasted a dozen jackets, commenting on every detail that could either improve or detract from Akira's final look, occasionally showing Akira their best options while also just making pleasant conversation. It was then that Akira truly realized how relaxed everyone felt, like a group of friends just enjoying a day on the town.

A few minutes later, Ryuji and Yusuke at last returned, proudly displaying a black leather belt with a silver three-tailed flame on the buckle. "Behold!" Yusuke proclaimed. "A tasteful yet stylish embodiment of your abilities and resolve, Kurusu-san! It shall be the perfect complement to your attire!"

Crossing his arms and smirking, Ryuji off-handedly added, "I found it."

"Oh, it's gorgeous!" Ann exclaimed, eyes widening. "It's stylish, dangerous, it's certainly on topic, and has a slight sexy aura to it. Great job, guys!"

"You've certainly exceeded my expectations," said Makoto as she inspected it. "This should be perfect."

"All in a day's work, ladies," Ryuji replied. "Turns out even Mr. Prim and Proper here can pick up some nice street fashion too."

"Just because I have a vocabulary does not mean I'm some stuffy aristocrat, Sakamoto," Yusuke said in very aristocratic tone. "Now, how goes the search for the final piece, ladies?"

"Just about done, I think," said Ann, turning back to the rack of jackets. "Makoto and I think this one would match the overall look the best." She picked a handsome jacket off the shelf and held it out in front of the boys.

"The material is a soft and flexible leather," Makoto explained with precise and academic diction, "allowing Akira to move around with virtually no interference regardless of the situation. The fit is slimmer than a more biker-style jacket, though again, because of the material, this should be of no issue. The black base color with gray-blue and red bands on the sleeves offer a splash of accent for eye-catching aesthetic appeal while still not appearing too flashy. This aesthetic should only be improved when using your 'heat', Akira. Therefore, this Kellum brand leather jacket, we believe, will be the finest option to complete his new look."

There was a slight pause as she finished her presentation before all her friends gave her a round of applause. Makoto blushed lightly a she could not hold back a smile, and bowed to hide her embarrassment, though said embarrassment came not at all from any unpleasant feelings about their reaction. "I'd give her full marks for that report," Ryuji remarked.

Standing back up, Makoto continued, "But of course, we will not know for sure until our subject tries them on. So, get going, Akira!" She handed him the jacket, laying it on top of the clothing items he was already carrying. "Let's see how it really looks."

"Moment of truth then," he muttered, walking to the dressing room. They waited in great anticipation (Ann even more than the others) until the door opened, and out appeared the young man, left hand in the pocket of his new jeans. The color ensemble matched delightfully, and he gave off the exact "dangerous but handsome" aura the girls had described. And mixed in with that aura was a distinct air of confidence, like a prize fighter at the peak of his career? His gaze was narrowed and strong, and he seemed to have even let down his long hair a bit, making it seem a bit messier to match the street model look. "So?" Akira asked, with his voice even sounding slightly smoother. "What do you think?"

"Va va voom!" Ann exclaimed. "You look like you could walk off the runway and into a brawl! But, in a good way," she chuckled awkwardly.

"Marvelous," Makoto nodded. "Most impressive indeed, Kurusu."

Ryuji walked forward and gave his friend a light punch in the shoulder. "Badass, bud! You almost look more stylish than me!"

"Indeed," Yusuke stroked his chin again, inspecting every aspect of Akira's look. "Truly a masterpiece, Kurusu!" He held his hands out in front of his eyes, framing his friend. "I should paint this in a scene when I get back to Grandfather's home. Would you be open to modeling for me, friend?"

"When the world isn't collapsing around us? Maybe, Yusuke," he nodded with a smile.

"Seriously," Ann added. "You look amazing, Akira. Thank you for letting us do this!"

"And thank you guys for the help," he smiled to them all. "We'll have to make it up to Mishima when he's better, since he unfortunately missed out. We should give him the same treatment sometime after our work is done."

"I'll keep a pin in it," Makoto said promptly, responsibly.

"There's just one more thing we should check," said Akira.

"What's that, dude?" Ryuji asked, still smiling.

"Did you guys check to see how much this all cost?"

Their smiles transitioned from beaming to awkward at that question. The final price was affordable for Akira given his current occupation, but multiple times more than any outfit he had ever worn or purchased in his life beforehand. However, this was money he was not exactly keen on taking home, at least any great amount given how he had acquired it, so he paid his bill and exited the store, sporting his new outfit. The conversation became much more pleasant again once they had paid.

After a minute of conversing, Ann perked up once again. "Hey, guys?" she asked the group. "There's an arcade just down the street, right? Would you be open to getting a photo taken?"

"What's this all of a sudden?" asked Akira.

Ann became considerably more downcast. "It's just that, well, with everything going on, it's rare that we all seem… happy together. This is the first time we've been able to act like, you know, friends. No fighting for our lives involved. It's helped me take my mind off everything that happened not just today, but the last few weeks, and I guess I want to have a memento of it…" her voice trailed off out of some obvious embarrassment.

The other friends looked between each other for but a moment before nodding in agreement. Makoto stood at Ann's side and said, "That's a great idea, Ann. We'd all be happy to."

"I'm down," Ryuji added. "Let's move, guys. The arcades start getting busy around this time, and the photo booths are always one of the busiest spots."

Luckily, upon arriving at the Club SEGA off Nakamichi Street, the photo booth was vacant despite business obviously starting to pick up as most schools were just let out for the day. They took advantage of their fortuitous timing and piled into the booth tightly. From left to right was Yusuke, Makoto, Ann, Akira, and Ryuji on the end.

In the electronic display, they saw themselves. On their faces were marks and bruises, especially Akira, and they all looked like they had indeed seen their fair share of conflicts and fights. It was a nearly tragic yet nearly funny sight, seeing this group of young adults look so beat up. Yet there was a comradery among them, a bond that superseded even a normal friendship. They put their arms around each other, and Akira felt Ann lean into him just a bit. He repaid the gesture in kind, and they all smiled for the camera. There was a snap, and a moment later, a reel of photos showing their damaged, happy faces was spit out by the machine.

Three more photos were taken of the group. One with silly faces, one with looks of great surprise, and another of everyone holding two fingers up behind each other's heads. They talked about the photos, they laughed, they had copies made for each other. And at that, they realized Akira had yet to eat lunch once his stomach audibly growled, and so they went off to enjoy an early dinner at Big Bang Burger. They knew the young man needed some hearty meat in his body (well, "meat" is a strong word, but it tastes like meat).

That was until they passed by an electronics store with a display of different televisions in its front window, most showing the Tokyo News Station. The newscaster, a beautiful woman in her late twenties, was discussing the aftermath of the morning's events, and the police once again promising to improve their efforts to combat the recent strings of organized crime attacks and altercations.

"Additionally," she continued, "we have been recently informed that Prime Minister candidate Okumura Konikazu will be speaking on the matter in one hour at an emergency council meeting with the leaders of law enforcement in Kamurocho. His representative has also stated that Okumura-san's daughter, Haru, will be making her public speaking debut as well to weigh in on the issue in support of her father. This has likely been brought on by the hastily organized protests that were organized outside of the Kamuro P.D.'s precinct this morning, decrying the police's supposed inability to act in defense of the people of Kamurocho."

"That's not good," Ryuji remarked darkly.

"Guys," Makoto spoke up, "maybe we shouldn't be out all night tonight. You know, just in case."

"In case of what?" asked Akira.

"Anything. Let's just get something to eat. That sounds far more pleasant than… that." She looked back at the TV one more time, showing a brief recording of the angry protestors, and they continued on their way.

It took Makoto some time to become as talkative again.

[Reviews are always welcome.]