Chapter 25

Alliances and Bonds

Okumura leaned forward in his chair, rubbing his eyes as the news played on the TV in front of him. The reporters frantically recounted the events of the chaotic car chase one hour earlier, and seemed far more stressed at the constant "BREAKING NEWS" bulletins their show had become in the past couple weeks. They discussed the dramatic rise in gang activity, the continued public disapproval toward the police, which seemed to be on the rise since his indignant daughter's outburst that evening. All of it was giving Okumura a splitting headache.

But more than any of that, Haru was gone. There were no casualties reported in the accident, from both current investigators and witnesses, but Okumura was yet unable to slow his frantic, worried heart rate as he pondered on the fate of his only child. He could not bear to look at the television, nor could he bear to divert his gaze out to the city, or to the phone beside him. He felt sick, weak even, as he wondered as to what had become of his indignant, disrespectful, beloved daughter.

That was when the door to his penthouse was unlocked, and in walked Daigo and his bodyguards, covered head to toe in dirt and blood. "Okumura-san!" Daigo exclaimed worriedly. "They've taken her! They've taken Haru!"

"What!?" Okumura shot to his feet. "Who did this? Is she alright?"

"Sakura Clan thugs, that's who! One of them attacked us on the highway, drove us off the road and wrenched her right from my arms before his friends came by and tried to kill us! We're lucky to be alive, believe me!"

"What were you doing with Haru, boy?" Okumura pressed him first. "Where is she? Where were you taking her?"

"We planned to take her out of the city, to a safe haven not far from here where she would not have to endure the political fallout of her actions. She was unharmed when last I saw her, but for whatever reason, the Sakura Clan wanted her for themselves. I believe it's to make an example of her, seeing her endorsement of them as a chance to further discredit our efforts."

"Damn those barbarians!" Okumura slammed his fist into the armrest as he stood up, his eyes alight with rage. "My daughter made a fool of herself, yes, but she is not some bargaining chip in their game of gangs! Even after all this time, Sakura still believes himself to be some kind of god, huh? I will not have it! Not in my city! Not in my nation!"

"I completely agree, Okumura-san," said Daigo in a much calmer tone. "Their actions are reprehensible, and we must make haste to get her home. Have you any means of doing so?"

Okumura's fiery rage subsided as something else stirred within him. Anger turned to apprehension on his face, and the flames in his eyes died. He recomposed himself, sighing as he straightened his tie despite it being as cleanly arranged as it had been when he put it on. "I will make a call, Daigo-kun," he said slowly. "Retire for the evening; you must be quite rattled. If I have any more need for you, we will discuss it in the morning."

"Are you sure, Okumura-san?" Daigo asked. "Is there nothing more we can do against these fiends?"

"The calls I am about to make will enlighten us to our options, young man. We will act quickly once we have decided on the correct course. Now leave me."

Daigo smacked his lips annoyedly before nodding. "Alright. I hope your friends will be of use. These yakuza are getting crazier by the day." With that, Daigo left for a long, hot shower.

Okumura sat back in his seat, noticing that his hands were trembling. He yet felt fury at the thought of these abhorrent barbarians taking his daughter, and whatever they had planned for her. And too there was fear within him; fear for her safety, as any good father would feel. He looked to the phone, thinking of the number in his head as he was about to call "them". He reached out for the phone, but his hand hesitated. His partners were not to be trifled with, and they no doubt had their own opinions and choice words to offer him regarding the night's events. God almighty, he hoped they would not interpret his daughter's foolish behavior as his fault.

He reached out, wrapping his hand around the phone, only for it to ring as he touched it. Tentatively, he picked up the phone and said, "Hello? This is Okumura."

"Good evening, Okumura-san," said a deep, strong voice on the other end. "We are aware of the night's unfortunate events, and are sending a liaison to discuss matters with you personally. They should be arriving any moment. I hope this impromptu meeting is not an inconvenience to you."

"Uh, no," Okumura cursed himself for stammering. "Not at all. I will be awaiting their arrival."

"Very good. Please also understand that we are already investigating the Sakura Clan's actions, and Shido-san extends his personal condolences to your plight. We will be working tirelessly to ensure the safe retrieval of your daughter."

"That… is very relieving to hear. Please give my thanks to Shido-san."

"Of course, sir. Have a good evening." The dial tone rang in his ear before Okumura hung up the phone.

And Okumura was left alone in his apartment, stewing on what had transpired this night. He cleared his mind of his apprehension toward Shido's cohorts, but thoughts of his daughter yet remained. He knew he was angry with her; nay, downright furious would be more accurate. She undermined his campaign and the entire police force! What the hell was she thinking! Ungrateful, stupid child! At least, that was how he surmised the situation until the reality of the night's events sunk in.

She was captured, alone with the yakuza. Perhaps in the clutches of the "kingslayer", and he shuddered at the thought of what that monstrous, deviant fiend could do to his little girl. She was an ungrateful child, yes, but she was still his child. His only child, the one fruit of his wife's womb, God rest her soul. And so, he would bring hell and fire upon all who even toucher her.

There was a knock at the door, causing Okumura to jump in his seat. If it was a maid or other servant, they would have announced themselves with their knock, but no such announcement came. Meaning it must be that "liaison" he had been informed of. He stood to his feet and walked to the door, opening it slowly.

Before him was a… thing about his height that nearly caused him to jump back in fear. A skull of dark metal, hooded in a dark cloth shroud, greeted him at the door atop a body clad in black and grey clothing, obviously of an enforced material to resist physical damage. The skull bowed its head to him before speaking in a low, raspy voice, "I am Golgotha, here on behalf of Shido. May I enter."

Okumura tried to compose himself as he nodded shakily to "Golgotha". "Yes, come in," said Shido, only barely breaking a whisper.

Golgotha entered the penthouse swiftly, almost gliding across the floor. He stood before the seat Okumura had been sitting in and motioned to it. Okumura required no more convincing to do the strange agent's bidding.

"I am sorry for your loss, Okumura-san," said the agent, standing upright and completely still; he seemed not to even be breathing. Okumura found this almost comical, receiving pity from some sort of demon. "I was dispatched to discuss possible options we may have in recovering her."

"Do you have any plans in order?"

"It would be more accurate to say they were 'moved up'. Your daughter's capture has accelerated our original timeline, which means for you that you will have your daughter back in your arms expediently."

"Thank heavens," Okumura sighed. "And what of the political situation? Do your employers have any way to help with that?"

"They are deeply disappointed in your daughter's actions, sir, as well your inability to prepare for this." Okumura went pale for a moment, his hands becoming clammy. "I know it is improper to judge someone for their parenting, but perhaps you should have been more direct in your teaching Haru the ways of this nation's politicking."

"Mark my words, she will be thoroughly reeducated upon her return," Okumura spoke venomously. "However, my highest priority is the rescue of my daughter, and while her approach to the matter was entirely cavalier, I must say that the Omi Alliance's record has been sparsely bright since this operation began. How will you save my daughter when you cannot even fight your own war?"

"Are you saying you doubt Shido-san, Okumura-san?"

"N-no!" Okumura blurted out, feeling even more fearful after his outburst, which he promptly cursed himself for. "However, his agents have proven less than efficient. The situation is only growing more dire; the political landscape growing more divided. Shido-san himself promised that the public would be united against the Sakura Clan, but no such unity has come about. At least, in the polls that I have seen."

"And these polls have planted seeds of doubt in your mind?"

"They certainly call into question your capabilities. I am not so foolish as to attempt to radicalize the public as my daughter has, but I require greater assurance that Shido and his men will be able to actually hold up their end of our deal."

"That, we can certainly provide," said Golgotha. "However, Shido does not appreciate discordance among his cooperators. That is why I will give you some 'assurance', as you said."

"And how will you do that?"

Golgotha slowly raised his hand, pointing his index finger to Okumura. He walked closer, letting the tip of his gloved finger barely grace the man's forehead. "Fear not, for your daughter or your campaign. All will be well, Okumura-san. All in good time."

"What are you…?"

"Be at peace," he whispered from behind his mask. "Shido-san shall take care of all of it. All you need is to wait, and set your daughter on the right path…"

Okumura blinked, and the man was gone. The room was dark and quiet, and a cold sweat poured down his head and the back of his neck. He knew not what had happened, nor even if any of his scattered, foggy memories of his meeting with Golgotha were real. But what he did know was that the memories of Haru's insubordination were clear as glass in his mind's eye. He tried to recollect what had happened with Golgotha and how he had allegedly passed out, but all that could coalesce completely in his mind was his daughter.

His ungrateful, stupid daughter.

"She's been secured," Iwai whispered into the car phone. "Physically unharmed, but very shaken up. I know it's not exactly convenient, but we probably should take her to HQ. The Omi and the cops will be out looking for her day and night… Right, Boss, I agree. So, should we move her to HQ? … Yes, sir. We'll be there within the hour." Hanging up the phone, he looked back to his passengers in his mirror. "Everyone holding up back there?"

"Mostly," Ryuji answered, looking back at Haru. She had finally stopped crying, but was still fidgeting uncomfortably in her seat, leaning against Ann who rubbed her back compassionately. Haru whimpered occasionally, breathing sharply as if she could not quite get enough air in her lungs as she still hugged herself, rubbing her shoulders with her hands. "How far to HQ, Iwai?"

"About forty minutes, depending on traffic. We'll be avoiding the highway, so it's gonna take longer." He focused his gaze on the reflection of the girls in the mirror. "You girls doing okay?" he asked in a surprisingly soft tone for such a gruff gangster.

Ann and Makoto nodded, but Haru did not respond. "I took a look at her," said Makoto, "and she's got some bruising on her midsection and arms. Nothing broken, but she will need some bandages and likely pain relievers. Will there be a doctor at this headquarters?"

"Takemi will be there, yeah," Iwai nodded.

"Probably my fault," Ryuji added sullenly. "I grabbed her hard to get away from that prick she was with, and we took a bad tumble. Probably hurt her in the chase too," his voice grew more serious, gravelly with frustration. "Dammit, I could've done so much better," he looked to the floor."

"Y-you are fine," Haru said slowly, looking up to him with teary eyes. Everyone focused on her as her quiet whimpers were broken with speech. "You did… n-nothing wrong, sir."

"Well, thank you, Miss," Ryuji replied. "But please, call me Ryuji. 'Sir' just doesn't quite fit for me," he mustered a weak smile, and she returned it in kind. It was only the smallest ghost of a grin, but it was there, nonetheless.

"Then call me H-Haru," she whispered. Ryuji only nodded in response. "B-but, where are we going? Somewhere safe?"

"That's right," Iwai responded from the front of the car. "You're under our protection now, Okumura-san. I know your opinion of our kind probably isn't sunny right now, but I promise you that we will do everything in our power to make sure you're safe. You are an honored guest of the Sakura Clan and household."

Haru did not respond, but only leaned back into Ann's embrace. "They're good people," Ann whispered to her. "They've saved me too. You have nothing to worry about. I swear it." Haru nodded, letting out a long, quiet sigh.

Akira leaned back in his seat, rubbing his eyes with exhaustion. "Well, you can't say running with the yakuza isn't exciting, at least," he said flatly.

"Still don't count yourself as one, Kurusu?" asked Yusuke.

"Not on your life or anyone else's," Akira replied with a snippier tone than he had meant. "Sorry, that was just… me being tired."

Yusuke nodded. "Being heroes is quite exhausting, yes. But at least we saved someone, right?"

"Right. Just don't look at the news for a couple days." He looked back at the girls and caught Ann's gaze. He glanced at Haru, who seemed to be dozing off, then back to Ann. She nodded reassuringly, wordlessly telling him that their new acquaintance was alright, as was she. Akira nodded to her as well, then looked back out his window as the buildings of one of Kamurocho's nearby towns went by. He was very tired, as was all his friends.

So much so that he was half asleep when Iwai spoke up as they rounded a corner off the main road. "We're arriving," he said. "Look alive, kids."

To their left was a large estate of traditional Japanese style and architecture. Walls surrounded the entire perimeter, and they soon came upon a large, reinforced gate that swung open as they approached. Multiple guards stood watch at the gate and bowed to them as they entered the estate's large parking lot, giving them a better view of the main building.

It was two stories tall and very wide; a beautiful example of traditional Japanese cultural styling that looked like the home of some royal family from later periods of Japan's history. The building was alight with streetlamps overhead as well as a few decorative torches covered in white lampshades on the large stone staircase leading up to the building's entrance.

"Damn," Ryuji remarked. "I'd heard rumors about the Kitagawa estate, but I thought it would be years before I actually got to see it. Only the highest-ranking members of the Clan get to visit."

Yusuke explained, "It's been in my family for four generations now. The estate was built in the Meiji Period in 1894, and my grandfather allowed it to be the Sakura Clan's primary headquarters as a gift to Sakura-san in the late forties, when the Clan was truly beginning to ascend in power and influence in Tokyo. The location was apparently just as important to Sakura as the architecture. It's out of reach of the immediate reach of the Kamuro P.D., and is entirely privately owned and operated, keeping it beyond the gaze of most civic and governmental bodies."

"It's beautiful," Makoto remarked. "Did you grow up here, Yusuke?"

He suspiciously paused before answering. "No, not really. I only lived here with my grandfather for one year before I settled near Kamurocho."

"Did your parents not live here?" Ann asked.

"No. My mother lived on her own when I was young."

"Where was your father?" Makoto asked again.

"Not around, I'm afraid," said Yusuke slowly.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Makoto nodded sympathetically. "I shouldn't have pried."

"It's no bother. Perhaps you may ask me about it again when our business is in order." Before anyone could respond, he exited the van as the door was opened by another yakuza, and everyone followed suit.

"Welcome home, Kitagawa-sama," said the yakuza with a bow. "Rooms for yourself and your guests are already prepared. However, Sakura-sama wishes to speak with all of you immediately in the meeting room."

"Thank you," Yusuke nodded to him. "We should make haste," he said to his friends. "We don't want to miss any important information."

They ascended the stone staircase toward the large doors, guarded by two imposing yakuza. Some ways off to their left was two women, seemingly servants, dressed in purple and pink kimonos and walking away with housekeeping supplies. The kimonos themselves were fittingly adorned with depictions of Sakura petals blowing in the wind.

The doors were opened, and before them was a large, warmly lit foyer. Two staircases at the sides of the room's center ascended upward toward a second floor, with many yakuza walking around busily. Yusuke and Iwai led the way up the staircase on their right, and Akira noticed a familiar maroon suit and pants walking around the opposite corner. The large, unkempt perm on the man's head was even more familiar. It was Ichiban Kasuga, who waved to them with a smile as he noticed them. The young adults all waved back politely, then Ichiban approached them.

"Hey, guys! I knew you'd show up sometime. I only just got in myself," he said rather excitedly as they stopped at the top of the stairs. "I heard about the car chase from the other guys. Sakamoto, you're a real hero! And a total badass!"

Ryuji adopted a cocky smirk, putting his hands on his hips. "I guess you can say that. Thanks."

"Just calling it as I see it." Ichiban then noticed the new addition to their group, and how she seemed like she was trying not to appear uncomfortable. "Shit," he muttered sheepishly. "Well, don't let me keep you guys. We'll catch up sometime after the meeting. Sorry for intruding." He bowed to Haru respectfully. "And welcome to our abode, Miss," he said with greater decorum than the group had even seen from him. "I hope your stay will be safe and relaxing."

Haru smiled to him, but whether it was fake or not was unknown to anyone else. "That's very appreciated," she nodded to Ichiban. "Thank you very much." He nodded to her with a reassuring smile and excused himself, letting them continue on their way.

They soon came upon a large set of double doors down the bustling hallway, and Iwai stepped in front of them before they entered. "At least most of our patriarchs will be in there," he explained sternly. "Stay quiet unless spoken to, and adhere to everything they say. Absorb every single detail. We need everyone on the same page after tonight." They all nodded in agreement, and Iwai opened the doors.

Two parallel rows of seats were in front of them, arranged going toward a large throne-like chair at the far end of the room. In the large chair was Sojiro, and in the seats were Kuze, Kashiwagi, and two more men Akira did not recognize. Of the six seats before Sojiro, only four were filled. One was a large man with a fat, round face, wearing a gaudy purple suit. The other was a younger man with sly features, a short buzzcut and a white suit with a dark gray shirt. They were in the middle of discussing something when the young adults entered, and all eyes were on them.

Sojiro looked them all up and down from across the room until his eyes focused on Haru, standing in the center of their group. "Ah, the woman of the hour," said Sojiro with the slightest smirk. "I hope the ride over was comfortable, Miss."

"Your associates have been nothing but agreeable, sir," she replied with sudden composure. Akira surmised she must be putting on her political persona. This was something of a political meeting, after all. "Thank you for sending them to rescue me from my abductors."

"I did no such thing, Miss. They took the liberty of saving you themselves. You have nothing to thank me for, except for inviting you under our roof for your protection, should you accept it."

"That depends on how this meeting proceeds," she replied with stalwart tone. Kuze and the younger yakuza glared at her. The older, gaudy one smirked, and Kashiwagi narrowed his eyes her way. "I understand you may have some information that concerns me?"

"We wish to discuss the current political fallout, Okumura-san," said Sojiro, leaning forward in his chair. "Your actions tonight have spawned some difficult wrinkles in our current conflict."

"Have I interfered with your operation?"

"Potentially. But far more than that, you have become a high-profile target as of tonight. The police will want you silenced, and our primary enemies, the Omi Alliance, will likely either try to make you a pawn in their political machinations, or eliminate you, should you refuse. They are known for their drastic tactics when backed into a corner."

"And you believe I have pushed them into a compromising situation?"

"I believe the entire situation is about to get a whole lot more complicated, Miss. This conflict is truly that of three parties: ourselves, the Omi in Kansai, and the Kamuro Police Department. We have been primarily tepid in our approach so far, but your outburst tonight has lit a far more intense flame under a pot that was already about to boil over. And for that, many people will want you out of the picture."

"Are you among those people, Sakura-san?"

"The opposite, actually. I'm hoping to keep you safe, far away from the conflict until this immediate mess blows over. Then you will prove a strong and influential ally in the following phases, and hopefully we can end this conflict before it becomes a true war."

"How can we do that? The yakuza's reputation is crumbling as we speak. You will have no platform to propagate from."

Kuza chuckled deep in his throat before Sojiro could answer. "I don't think she's taking kindly to your offer, Boss," he said with a wry smirk.

Ignoring his subordinate, Sojiro continued, "We have forty years' worth of reputation and standing in this city, Okumura-san. We have contacts, agents, arms we yet still can extend even with the Omi knocking at our door. I'm hoping you will extend your support as well, once it is safe to do so."

"Are you insinuating corruption tactics, Sakura-san?"

The younger man seated with them shook his head in annoyance. "Do we really have time for this dawdling, Boss? She's already become a suspect of collusion after her stunt tonight."

"Enough, Shindo," Kashiwagi interrupted him with a glower. "She's a politician. She's doing exactly what she was taught."

"And the Omi could be pulling up on our property right now—"

"Silence," Sojiro commanded. Shindo glared at all those around him, then slumped back into his seat. "Now, Okumura-san, be open with us: what do you really feel about the current situation? Do you truly believe that the police have been failing in their efforts to protect the public?"

Haru tilted her head upwards with confidence, tightening her jaw and exuding a strong presence unlike what the young adults had seen upon rescuing her. "Yes, I do," she declared. "I fear not just for the safety of Kamurocho, but the whole of Kanto, should the Omi not be stopped. And my kidnapping tonight has only called my father's allegiances into further question. I know not the true nature of my fiance's actions, but I do know that, for whatever reason, they were attempting to silence me. I admit, I thought it may be you, Sakura-san, who was trying to remove me from the political stage. But your men and women risked their lives to save me," she looked back to Ryuji in particular before turning back to Sojiro.

"I am ever grateful for their efforts," she continued. "I shudder to think at what may have become of me had these people not intervened. Now, I must ask you thusly, Sakura-san," her expression became even more steely and self-assured, like a chess player seeing their gambit come to fruition, "will you put forth the same efforts to ensure my safety as this conflict intensifies?"

"That and more," Sojiro nodded.

Haru paused, maintaining locked eye contact with the man. "Then, however I can be useful in saving the people of this city and finding out why I was to be silenced in such a manner, I shall stand by your side." And to all present's shock, she bowed. Returning to standing upright, she said, "I am Haru Okumura, daughter and sole heir of Kunikazu Okumura, and I shall see justice served, and my family saved from the machinations of the enemy."

Sojiro nodded and stood to his feet. "And I, Sojiro Sakura, first chairman of the Sakura Clan, shall see the whole might of my men lain to bare to see your justice through."

There was some powerful aura in the air as the meeting came to a close. An alliance, unlikely as it was, had been forged this night, and no other words need be said. The patriarchs bowed to each other, and all were led off to retire to their quarters for the night.

Well, until Akira saw Takemi at the other end of the beautiful courtyard and garden behind the main building, leading off to a small inn-like building where they would be staying. While the others left to turn in for the night, Takemi beckoned him over.

"What do you need?" Akira asked as he approached her.

"Me? A Bloody Mary would be nice, but this isn't about what I need. It's actually about Futaba."

"She's here? Is she okay?"

"Mostly, yes. She's staying on the top floor of the inn, in a private room. She asked if you were here too, and when I said yes, she asked to get you to watch some anime with her."

Akira was surprised but could not help smiling at the awkward cuteness of the request. "That's very forward of her," he remarked.

"You're the one that originally offered. Now come on; I won't be passing up an opportunity like this."

Takemi led him up the highest room of the cozy traditional-styled inn, and past the doors was a large apartment-like room with comfortable, expensive furnishings, a clean kitchen with modern appliances, and a large television playing Dragon Ball. Takemi knocked on the door, getting the attention of the girl that was sitting on the floor in front of the TV, watching it intently.

This was the first time Akira saw Futaba in the full light. She was truly a tiny thing, with long, orange-dyed hair that extended to her waist. She was fifteen but looked far younger than that, given her malnourished figure.

"Is it good tonight, Futaba?" Takemi asked quietly. Futaba's eyes darted back and forth between Akira and Takemi uncomfortably. Her only response was a nod. "Good," Takemi nodded. "Akira's here to watch the show with you. You should say thank you."

"No, no," Akira added quickly. "She doesn't have to. I'm happy to help—"

"Thank you," Futaba interrupted him with a meek voice, grabbing the attention of both adults. "Sit?" she asked, even quieter now.

Akira nodded with a smile. "Yeah, okay." And he sat beside her. She moved a couple inches away from him, but he did not mind. "Do you like this show?" he asked, not even noticing Takemi leave them alone, a warm smile staying on her face.

"Mm-hmm," Futaba nodded, watching the show intently.

"Do you read the manga or just watch the anime?"

"Mm-hmm," she said again.

"Which one?" Akira chuckled.

"Both," she replied quickly.

"Me too. I love the art, and the characters and action are all so cool."

"Mm-hmm," Futaba nodded.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, watching Goku fight Tien in the martial arts arena in their first epic duel. Goku shot a Kamehameha with a great cry, and Akira said, "I tried to do those all the time when I was younger, reading the manga. Never quite could though, but it was always fun to try."

"Me too," Futaba mumbled with a small smile.

"That's cool. My friends and I would often try it together when we were playing in the fields by our hometown. We'd usually end up beating up each other, playfighting; even did it a couple times in high school, and our girl friends would get mad at us. Except Chie, another one of our friends. She just jumped right in and kicked most of their butts."

Futaba chuckled lightly, holding her legs up to her body. "Sounds fun."

"It was." Akira then got an idea. "You wanna see me try it?"

"Hmm?" Futaba finally looked at him with a curious glint in her eye.

"I can try a Kamehameha, if you want." Futaba looked puzzled for a moment, then the corner of her lip curled upward, and she nodded quickly. "Okay," Akira got to his feet and stood before her. He lowered himself into a solid stance, and adopted a stern fighter's expression, focusing himself on the center of his body. Probably shouldn't show off my Heat. Don't wanna scare her, or hurt her, if anything actually happens. Wait, could my Heat actually make something like this work? Uh, try it a different time, Akira.

He held out his hands like Master Roshi taught Goku and Krillin to do, breathed out slowly, and narrowed his eyes. Futaba leaned forward, watching intently. "Kaaaa meeee," he began, bringing his hands back to his right hip. "Haaaa meee…" Futaba leaned forward more, eyes alight with intrigue. And extending his arms fully forward, Akira cried out, "HYRAAAAAAH!"

Nothing happened. Akira stood there in that powerful stance, eyes still glowering as if he was obliterating some unseen opponent. Then Futaba chuckled to herself, and then she laughed heartily. Her voice was high-pitched and ecstatic as she laughed at Akira's performance. "Sorry," he shook his head with a shrug and smirk. "Guess I'm not quite in tune with my ki like they are."

Sputtering through her laughter, Futaba proclaimed, "That's cool!"

Akira was a smidge embarrassed, but genuinely happy to see this young, isolated girl be so enthusiastic about something. He felt like he was really helping her let her guard down. "Thank you," he smiled to her. "You wanna try it now?" Her laughter stopped immediately, and she shook her head no quickly. "Alright, no harm done," Akira shrugged sitting down beside her. "But I'm glad you liked it. Maybe next time, huh?"

Futaba looked away sheepishly, but nodded her head yes slowly. "Wouldn't be as cool," she muttered.

"Oh, come on, I'm sure you're great. Maybe you'll actually shoot a beam? You'll never know unless you try."

Futaba smiled again. "Maybe."

"I'm looking forward to it," Akira smiled. Wanting to keep up the happy atmosphere, he asked, "You wanna hear a joke, Futaba?" She looked to him, eyes widening again with curiosity, like a small child. This seemed to be some sort of quirk for her, but it was at least endearing. "Okay, so two guys walk into a bar." Futaba raised her eyebrow. "You'd think the second one would have ducked."

Futaba blinked twice, looked to her side as she thought about what she had just heard, then let out a quick snort in her throat before chuckling. "I get it," she said, continuing to chuckle. "The second guy was a dummy."

"That he was," Akira nodded. "That's one of my dad's favorite jokes. He likes to tell it as an icebreaker when meeting new people." Akira looked to the TV, but his gaze indicated that his mind was elsewhere. "I'd think you'd really like him, Futaba. He would really like you, I know that."

"Why?" she asked at a more normal volume.

"Because he's a good listener," Akira explained slowly. "It's what he does for a living – what he's always done. It's his job to listen to people, and he especially likes listening to teenagers like you." Futaba listened more intently now. "He's also good at helping people through their problems, even if it's hard for them to talk about it. He always makes you comfortable first, usually with snacks. He'll get you apple slices with peanut butter, or crackers and grape juice; something like that. And then he'll just let you start… talking. About whatever's on your mind."

"He sounds… nice."

"He really is. He has a heart for people, but especially young people, and he always makes sure you know that before you start talking." Akira looked down at the floor, a sad smile on his face that even Futaba noticed. "He taught me a lot about how to listen to people, to help them with their problems. I'd do it a lot for my friends when we were kids, even teenagers. I'm not as good at it as he is, but I like to think I'm at least okay, when people want to talk about their problems or concerns, I mean."

Futaba scooted over closer to him. It was only by a little bit, but she seemed to hang on every word he said.

"My mom's a lot like him too, but in different ways," he continued. "She's beautiful, and kind, but in a much more direct way. She tells it like it is, but it always come from the heart, with love. They compliment each other well, that way. And I think that's why they get along so well, and love each other so much. When my dad needs someone to kick his butt, really tell him the facts, my mom can do it perfectly without hurting him, or me. And when we need someone to just sit down and talk it out with, my dad will drop everything to make sure that happens. Even does it for my friends too."

"Like what?" Futaba asked.

"Well," Akira pondered for a moment, "I have one friend who's really cool. Her name is Naoto, and she's a detective."

"Whoa," Futaba drawled.

"Well, she's on her way to becoming a detective, but the path toward that has been hard for her. Men in law enforcement don't like women joining up, especially in a position that important. But it's always been her dream to solve problems and help people that way. One day, when we were fifteen, she was having a… really hard time. She lost her parents when she was young, and that, along with the pressures of trying to repress her gender in a male-dominated workforce… just got to her."

Futaba looked away sadly. "I understand," she whispered. "I lost my parents too."

Akira looked to her sympathetically. "I'm sorry to hear that. At least you still have people that love you."

The girl nodded slowly. "What did you dad do for your friend?"

"Well, she was very sad, and very distant. Eventually, they got to talk after she cried with us about everything going on. Now, my dad's a counselor by profession. People usually pay him for this stuff, but he just let her talk and cry for over two hours for free because he cared so much about her, and all of us. We all cried with her that night," he looked away, reliving the memory. "It was hard to see her like that, but it was also a happy thing to see her just… let it out. That's the kind of thing I was always taught, Futaba," he said, looking off to the distance. "That's what heroes do."

"I've heard people say you're a hero," she replied. "Is that really true?"

Akira shook his head. "I… don't know," he admitted. "What you've heard was something some people say is good, and some people say is bad. I don't really know which it is yet, honestly. But… my mom and dad both taught me the same thing, just in different ways." Futaba held on his every word as he spoke. "Being a hero isn't about flying around and saving the world. It's about giving people the strength to carry on," he met Futaba's gaze. "Whether that's… leaping into action to save someone who needs help, or just letting someone talk for a little bit. Both of those make you a hero."

Futaba held her legs tighter to her body and rested her face in her knees. Her shoulders twitched, and Akira realized she was crying. "You're nice," she muttered amidst quiet hiccups, trying to repress her crying. "You're cool. You're a hero."

Akira sighed. "Maybe. But it means a lot, hearing that from you."

"You are," Futaba looked up to him, her eyes damp and red behind her glasses. "You watched a show with me… Only Tae does."

"Only Tae does?"

Futaba nodded with a sniffle. "Grandpa doesn't anymore. And I have no friends. I don't like all the old men in the Clan. Friends are… not around here."

Akira's heart fell in his chest listening to her, seeing stray tears fall down her face. "I have friends here," he said. "You want to hang out with them? They'd love to be your friend."

Futaba's eyes lit up. There was excitement in her face, yet also apprehension. "They would?"

"They're real heroes, Futaba," Akira nodded. "They risked their lives tonight to save someone. They help people, and they'd love to help you."

Futaba lifted her glasses and wiped her eyes with another whimper. "You did too, right?" she asked. "You helped people too."

Akira smiled. "Yeah. I did."

"Then you're a hero too." A smile broke through her tears. "You're a cool hero. So is your mom and dad."

Akira chuckled to himself. "You're right about them, absolutely. I'm still here, and they're still home. But I know they love me, and that they're real heroes. I just hope they'll accept me when I get back."

"I think they will," Futaba insisted. "You're a cool hero, remember? Everyone likes cool heroes."

Akira looked from her to his wrists covered by the sleeves of his jacket, and back to her. The scars yet brought him shame, but her words of affirmation were… pleasant. "Thank you," he whispered.

"Mm hmm," she nodded.

"So, you wanna come hang out with us."

"Um, tomorrow?" she asked. "I'm… sleepy."

"Okay," he smiled again. "Whenever you're ready, just ask, and we'll hang out with you."

"Mm hmm," she smiled.

They finished the episode before Futaba wanted to go to bed. They said goodnight, and Akira exited her room. He felt a warmth in his core that he had not truly felt since arriving in Kamurocho, and it was only then that he realized a tear was falling down his face. And for the first time in a long time, he could not say for sure whether this was a tear of despair, or of something more positive. When he cried, it was only out of frustration or sadness in Kamurocho. But even as two more tears fell from his eyes, that pleasant warmth stayed all the way back to his friends' quarters.

[In honor of Billy Kametz, English voice actor for Dr. Takuto Maruki. I pray his inclusion in this story shall bring honor to his memory. Thank you, Billy, and readers.]