Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own Persona 4, any of the characters, and not making money from this.

Chapter 2

One lesson both life and experience taught was that the anticipation of something and the reality of it rarely, if ever, met. Ask any desk jockey, new hire in retail, or rabid sports fan. Anticipation was always bound by the individual's imagination, while reality danced to the tune of circumstance and consequence. So when Souji arrived in Kofu, he'd sworn not to get caught in the same rut that constituted most of his pre-Inaba life. Wake up, eat breakfast and set dinner on a slow cook, walk to school, sometimes with classmates but usually not. Listen, learn, study, eat, and exercise, not always in that order. Go home, study more, eat dinner, clean up, sleep. There had been variations involving phone calls, holidays (but not vacations), and encounters with business associates of each parent, either at the Seta residence, wherever it happened to be, or elsewhere. The days passed in a blur, more hazy than the fog in the TV world without his glasses, and the years rolled by without a care. Returning from Inaba, he'd sworn not to let himself fall in the same rut. It was his life, as he'd said and seen so often in Inaba, and it was his choice how to live it.

However, making rules is very different from living by them. Anyone who has tried a diet or new exercise regimen will say that. Which was why, two weeks after arriving in Kofu, Souji felt his old life encroaching on the new one he was trying to create. Old habits, like the same food dishes, arriving home at the same time no matter how many detours he took, moving through school on autopilot, and even having the same dreamless nights mocked his desire to change. It would have been worse without his friends from Inaba texting and calling regularly. Yosuke and Naoto had taken it upon themselves to take pictures when the tales of the group's antics became too unbelievable, and his cell background was a collage of familiar faces that made him smile every time he opened the phone. The pictures, hearing their voices, and the letters he'd received from Nanako and Teddie were his buffer against the dull grey around him. But as strong as it was, he could feel it start to weaken.

He'd never been able to tell anyone how isolated he'd felt when he first moved to Inaba. Polite to a fault and dealing with the novelty of having extended family, plus learning on his feet how to interact with his cousin, he expected to fall into a similar routine as he'd had all his life. But then the murders happened. Chie and Yosuke hadn't let him keep to himself and hide, and with the revelations of the TV world, the Shadows, and the awakening of his Persona, he had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide and let the dull grey take over.

After that first fight, everything changed. It wasn't just the roaring in his ears, the flood of power rushing through his veins, or the name of a god made manifest on his lips that tilted his world. Instead, it was how bright and colourful everything was, even in the face of death. His head cleared the first time, burning away the fog that he'd felt for so long, and seen in the dream his first night in the Dojima household. He faced Yosuke's Shadow, more frightening in appearance and nature than anything he could ever have imagined, and yet he did so with an electric grin on his face. Months after the fight, and so many more battles since, it remained a potent memory that always brought the body's chemical candy to his veins. It wasn't the fighting itself, he later realized, but the movements, the actions, knowing that he was doing something that mattered in the moment and that the tools he needed, his Personas, were always where he needed them. It was heady, frightening, euphoric and somehow pure in a way that always left him wanting more. The fear didn't touch him then, not his perceived inadequacies or the words of his parents, not the odds of death, no matter how high, and he never hesitated or wasted a move.

The purpose shared by the team, the camaraderie in the TV and the friendship out of it, and having an irreplaceable place among those people had been new, terrifying, and instantly addicting. The title 'Leader' was synonymous with acceptance, not overarching authority. It meant he belonged.

He wanted it again. He wanted that awareness of his own mortality, having a purpose worth fighting for, making a difference to someone, and having a place neither people nor circumstance could take away.

The phone rang, startling him out of his thoughts. He reached over and grabbed the receiver, pointedly ignoring how mechanical the action was. "Seta residence."

"You're a hard guy to get a hold of!"

Souji paused for a minute, then grinned. "Only for someone with your timing, Kou. How're things?"

"Fine, fine. Inaba seems so much quieter without you here, y'know?"

"You can hardly blame me for that. And it's not like I brought a motorcycle gang with me."

Kou laughed. "Please. You were at the centre of everything that happened here, man. The Amagi Challenge, all those disappearances, and then Kanji Tatsumi, that Detective Prince, and even Risette join your little posse. I mean, how often do you think that happens around here?"

A good point, Souji admitted. The most colourful personalities to enter Inaba in what must have been ages, and they'd banded together to solve the murder case. Although… "What's this about Yukiko-san?"

"Hm?"

"You mentioned the Amagi Challenge. I can see where people get the ideas about Rise-san and Kanji-kun, but what about Yukiko-san?"

"Oh, that. Well you two were going out, right? I mean, the only person she ever spent that much time with was Chie- I mean, Satonaka-san. Then she hooks up with you and Hanamura-san after she reappears, like she was there the whole time."

"So people think we were going out?"

"Well, weren't you? Hanamura-san let slip that you two have a thing, or had one or something, and now he gets all fidgety when we ask him. It usually takes a lot to ruffle his feathers. Aside from the cross-dressing thing, anyway."

"So, seriously, which one's more your type?"

"Are you kidding?"

"No way. Dead serious. C'mon, man to man, just us."

"…Yukiko, I guess."

Yosuke, I'm going to kill you. "It's not that hard to get under his skin. Mention buying Chie-san steak, or breaking her Trial of the Dragon DVD."

"Seriously? Man, she musta been pissed."

"Or buying Teddie clothes. Yes, definitely mention that."

"Who's Teddie?"

"He'll know."

Scratching. Pen on paper. "Cool. You didn't answer my question though."

"Which was?"

Kou scoffed. "C'mon, you know. Were you and Amagi-san more than friends?"

If only you knew. No, scratch that, it's better if you don't. Not yet. "No one's business if we were, but you really need to stop listening to the Yasogami rumour mill."

"Yeah right. All that time together, on the field trips and study sessions, and yer saying there's nothing there? People've said they saw you together by the Samegawa all the time."

"Don't you remember all the rumours about me when I got there?" Souji started counting on his fingers. "That I'd inherited my family's fortune and needed a place to get away from the gold diggers, or that my hair colour meant I was from America. That I was a model and rising star that was about to make it big. Or that, because I lived with a detective, I must be related to the Shiroganes. King Moron made it sound like I was a playboy who beat on women half the time, and because of Kashiwagi-san, people thought I-"

"Yeah, don't go there," Kou cut in. "I have her for homeroom, and, seriously, how did you deal with that?"

"I thought about who she was replacing. A lot."

"Blegh. Dude, seriously?"

"It helped a bit. It wasn't the best idea I've ever had."

"No kidding." Kou sighed, accompanied by a dull thunk as his head hit the back of his chair. "Yeah, I guess you're right. About the rumours. I mean, there was one going around that Hanako-san had a serious thing for you. You buy that?"

Thank you so much for reminding me. That revelation had hit him harder than Shadow Kanji's fists. It still sent shivers down his spine, and was one of the few times in his life he could remember being stunned completely speechless. "How's Daisuke?"

"Same ol' same ol'. Misses you, though he'd be the last to say it. He's been nagging me to call you all week."

"Why? He's got my number."

"Dunno. Maybe it's not macho enough for him. Know he misses the times at Aiya! though."

Souji frowned. He was cut off by the lock turning and his mother moving through the door, talking on her cell a mile a minute, scribbling down notes and sorting through a pile of paper in her arms. She shucked her shoes and coat, movements anyone else would find awkward made smooth, or at least more balanced and less jerky, by long years of practice. Neither a glance nor word came Souji's way as she moved toward the family office, checking the calendar and glancing into the kitchen, where dinner was slowly cooking, before shutting the door behind her. Another event right from memory that hadn't changed.

"Souji? Still there?"

"Yeah, just a sec." He got up, closed and locked the door to the outside, then took to his chair again. "What's this about Aiya! You two boycotting the place or something?"

"You kidding? Not on your life. No, I think it reminds him of our talks when you were here, y'know? I mean, that was our place, through the good and bad, and now it's just his and my place. Ain't the same without you. I think Hanamura-san and Tatsumi-kun and Shirogane-kun feel the same. Which reminds me," Kou cut Souji off. "You're still coming back the end of May, right?"

"Yosuke mentioned that too, huh?"

"He's not the only one. I've been wondering about it myself."

The end of May. Three days off school, plus the weekend. Part of him, a big part, was already champing at the bit to be on the train back west. "That's the plan."

"Wow man, such enthusiasm, " Kou chuckled. "Don't spare my feelings or anything."

"No, I didn't mean that." Obviously the apartment was affecting him more than he expected. "It's been tough settling in here. All new faces and places, y'know?"

"Umm… Nope. Not really," Kou laughed. Souji couldn't help the return chuckle this time.

"Fair enough. But yeah, I'll be coming back, one way or another."

"Even on a bus if the trains are full?"

"A full train to Inaba?"

"Hm. Yeah, good point."

"Yes. Even if I have to hitchhike the whole way."

"Sounds good. I'll tell Daisuke. So, what's the big city like?"

"Big city? It's not Tokyo, you know."

"It's a lot bigger than Inaba. So you must have everything we don't, right?"

Souji heard his mother's voice still chattering away in the office. Turning his head against the sound, he replied, "it's noisier, busier, more… grey, I guess."

"Grey?"

"Yeah. Not a lot of trees or fields. Office buildings and bars everywhere, and everyone wants to sell you something. Nothing like Inaba,"

"You sound homesick. You've got anything you want there, so what's all the gloom for? They have basketball courts there, right?"

"Yeah, one near my school."

"So why haven't you tried it? You'd better not be getting out of shape."

Souji's brain sputtered, coughed, and stalled. That was an excellent question; why hadn't he stopped at the basketball court? It was on his way to school every day, he wasn't pressed for time, and he'd been looking for a break in his routine.

"I… I'm not sure."

That didn't sound strange to Kou. Instead it sent him into laughter again. "Not sure? C'mon man, if it's on the way to school, then the ladies'll be passing by. You've been there since March and it's never occurred to you to show 'em yer stuff?"

"Guess I… haven't had my head on straight."

"No kidding. Seriously, get some hoops in. I'll be hurt if you can't keep up when you get here. And, you can use my gift. That'll really drive the girls nuts."

"Gift… Just a minute." Putting the receiver against the chair's arm, and ignoring Kou's cry of protest, he slipped to his room and took the gift from his carry-on bag. It was a basketball, as he'd suspected when Kou gave it to him, polished, new, and- "Oh, you're kidding." Souji went back to the phone immediately, catching Kou mid-rant. "Are you serious? You signed it?"

"Okay, I'm seriously hurt that you didn't notice. Now I know yer head's not on straight. And that ball'll be worth a lot one day."

"Right."

"Ichijo Kou, basketball prodigy and exchange student extraordinaire. Mark my words."

"You forgot aspiring actor and matchmaker."

"Oh, you're funny Souji." There was a distant rumble of voices on the line. "And I'm out of time. Let me know when you're free in May. I wanna make sure the city hasn't taken off your edge."

"I will. Keep out of trouble 'til then."

"Back atcha. And I still don't buy that you and Amagi-san aren't a thing. I want details when you get here." The line went dead, and Souji put the receiver back, checked dinner, grabbed his autographed ball and headed to his room, carefully closing the door before going to his dresser. It was strange, and made him feel like a flat-footed idiot, that Kou's simple question brought his attention to the simplest and most logical detail he'd missed all this time. A basketball court was a place where he could exercise, get out of the house, and get back in his element, or a small part of it at least. Maybe he was looking for too large and complex an answer, he reasoned, that the smaller, simpler details escaped his notice. Baby steps. Details. Like the investigation. He glanced at the clock. 3:42. There was enough time to shoot some hoops and be back for dinner. He cracked the dresser open and glanced in, pulling out his fingerless gloves.

Something he'd adapted to since entering the TV world was the remnants of their battles that didn't always fade with a healing spell. The ripped clothes and blood stains were bad enough, but the scars would have set Dojima off like a Chinese New Year's fireworks display. There was no easy way to lie, to explain why bloody claw marks weren't really from claws. So Souji got better at hiding them, fishing for terms like 'the new style' or 'some fashion I saw in a magazine' to explain the excess of long-sleeved shirts, or coloured wraps when it got too hot for sleeves, in his wardrobe. The whole team had scars, though some less obvious than others, and while Kanji and Chie could explain them away by lifestyle or training injuries, Teddie had his suit, and Yosuke used his job and the occasional 'shelf stocking accident' as an excuse, Souji had never found an easy way to explain his. The burn mark on his left forearm from Yukiko's Shadow, claw marks on his chest from Teddie's, a slash scar above his knee when Rise's Shadow got too close, and a puncture mark near his right shoulder and similar scars on his left palm and fingers from Adachi felt too personal to show or brush off. There were others, raking his sides or cutting down his back, times when he dove in to help a friend or miscalculated and his armour didn't hold, smaller scars from the various Shadows they fought in the TV world that were easier to dismiss and harder to see. But the ones he did notice were kept hidden, from his cousin and uncle, from the gang in Inaba, and definitely from his parents. So he'd kept his long-sleeved shirts and long-legged shorts, kept wrapping his forearm out of a 'quaint rural remembrance tradition', and invested in several pairs of gloves.

Pulling on the gloves and hiding the scars (his mother had been engrossed in her conversation, and he'd held the receiver in his left hand as a precaution), he grabbed the ball and headed for the door. He made it past the family office and into the living area when he stopped, his mother's gaze finally finding him.

Izumi Seta, formerly Izumi Dojima, elder sister to Ryotaro Dojima, and aunt to Nanako (though Souji would readily wager vital parts of his anatomy that the two had never met) was a woman who caught and held attention in inverse proportions to her size, being barely 5'2. It wasn't just her physical features, which were attractive but not traffic-stopping, that made people listen, but her presence and the authority with which she spoke. For so long as he could remember, his mother had only raised her voice four times. She never needed to, because she often had a pertinent point to make, and was usually right. He'd seen whole tables at business meetings quiet down to catch what she said. On the other hand, Souji found her intellectual savvy stopped at the boundaries of business and finances. A career woman dedicated to her position as manager at an international bank, she rarely made much input on her son's choice of fashion, school classes, friends, sports, or hobbies. Though not as bad as his father, Souji found speaking to her about anything personal took a back seat to her cell phone and associates, and she did little to change that. It used to bother him, but that was before he'd found ways around her schedules and questions. And the emptiness in his life where his parents, people who asked him about his day or made time in their schedule for him alone, should have been only bothered him if he thought about it. Still, she was the only mother he had, and he stopped in the living area, sensing she wanted to talk.

"How was Inaba? Did you learn anything?"

Souji wanted to roll his eyes. She didn't have the expressions for small talk, and he made a point of keeping his voice even. "The town was pleasant, different from here. Uncle Dojima was accommodating, and his daughter was a pleasure to be around."

"Ah yes. Chisato, isn't it?"

"Chisato was his wife, mother. She died several years ago, when Nanako was a child."

She blinked owlishly. A small part, the part of the child Souji never completely outgrew, wondered if she was surprised, or even distressed, by her brother being a widower. It wanted her to show some kind of familial emotion, or even awareness. But her features, as the much larger part knew they would, settled. "Oh. I see. I remember him mentioning that." Souji didn't bother asking if she attended the funeral; he knew the answer. "I expect your academics didn't suffer from the change of locale?"

"No mother. It was different being around new people, but nothing I couldn't adjust to. No need to worry."

"Good." She noticed the gloves, and the ball in his arms. "Are you going out?"

"I need to stretch my legs. There's a basketball court nearby, so I won't be long."

"I see. Well your father should be home by the end of next week. He'll be glad to see you."

Souji bit his tongue. His father lived and breathed for his company and the position he held, which meant any time set aside for 'family' or 'offspring' was used for corporate crises. "How was America?"

"Different. Involved. Profitable. We may go back in a few years."

"To expand, or hold things together?"

She laughed, an odd sound that did odder things to his insides. Souji's earliest, most elusive memories involved feeling safe, comfortable, content, and a woman's voice, purer than any strain he could imagine, singing to him. It frustrated him that the memories lacked pictures, words, a scent, or anything to grant definition or perspective. He expected the voice belonged to his mother, but he couldn't remember her ever comforting him, or singing. Not when he was distressed or injured, not for her own leisure, never. "The latter, I expect. But I may be surprised."

"Anything's possible. I'll be back later. Oh, by the way, I'm going back to Inaba during my May school break."

The owlish blinks were absent, but a bemused quirk of her mouth and raised eyebrow expressed her surprise. "Why?"

"I met some good people there. People I want to see again."

"And such good people can't be found here?"

Souji gritted his teeth. He knew she wasn't malicious, but he hated how his mother worded things sometimes, as though not finding those people was because he wasn't looking, or that all friends were created equal. However, he'd keep those details to himself. He'd sooner eat rusty nails and undergo eye surgery on a roller coaster than mention Yosuke, Teddie, Yukiko and the others to his parents. "I'm sure they can be, but I was there for almost a year. We had some good times, and some will be moving on soon, so I'd like to take the chance and visit them. Will that interfere with anything?"

"No. Do as you wish, so long-"

"-as my grades and opportunities don't suffer. They won't; I promise."

"Very well. Have fun then."

Souji grabbed his jacket and keys on the way out, and didn't slow his rapid steps until he was two blocks away. He knew his parents weren't mean-spirited, having seen how dedicated to their jobs they were firsthand, but living with them and their half-hearted conversations, and their economical view of people, again was going to be a chore.

Souji made it to the basketball court without incident, moving through the crowds and streams of people like he'd never left them. It was set at the opening paths of a large park, complete with benches, lamp posts, trails, and people. The greenery itself was limited to shrubs, brush, and trees, but the colours were a welcome change from the grey. The court itself was oddly empty, though Souji figured any school teams would use their own gyms to practice.

He walked the length and breadth of the court several times, stretching his legs in the process and getting the feel for asphalt under his feet, unlike the wood floors at Yasogami. The autographed ball felt odd against the leather of his gloves, but he determined to get used to it. He moved to centre court and stared at the hoop, idly spinning the ball up on a fingertip.

Tense. Crouch, the ball hitting asphalt. Weight forward, and he ran up the left side, hooking the ball up. Backboard. Net. Ground.

He collected the ball and headed to near-centre, eyed a shot, crouched, and followed through. Nothing but net.

Maybe it was his homesickness for Inaba, or the autograph on the ball, or that he'd just spoken to the guy, but Souji swore he saw Kou's laidback smile waiting for him at centre court, complete with basket ball shorts and jersey. It was an invitation, a challenge, and though he'd be playing against himself, Souji didn't think twice about it. He hung his jacket on a nearby bench, took centre, and dashed down court. Right side, jump. Backboard. Rim. Net.

The time passed in the slap of the ball on asphalt or backboard, running steps, jumps or shots that almost always preceded the swish of the net. Several people started gathering at the edges of the court. Some were children or the elderly, but most were his own age, and if he'd bothered to give it much attention, Souji would've noticed more girls among the crowd than guys. The few times he missed the mark, the rebounds came straight – or almost straight – back, which made for some good recovery shots. One rebound ended up in the crowd, in the hands of a girl perhaps a year older than Nanako. Crouching with a hand wave, Souji poured all his charm into his smile, one that never failed to perk his cousin up. With a cheery laugh, she rolled the ball back. With a jaunty wave, Souji sank a dozen more shots before checking his watch. He'd been there for more nearly two hours.

When he headed back to his jacket, he noticed a tall girl, around his own age, resting against the bench with a smirk. She rose to her full height when he approached, and he noticed the mark of Sundaikofu High School, where he attended, on her jacket collar. She was taller than Yukiko, though shorter than himself, curly brown hair, oak-coloured eyes, and an hourglass figure that left him searching for a polite place to look. Settling on her eyes, he nodded and collected his effects. She cocked an eyebrow and waved for him to stop. "You're pretty good, Seta. Are you going to join the team?"

Souji stopped short. Perhaps it was his upbringing, or being around parents who often knew more about his schedule – as it revolved around theirs – than he did, but being out of the loop with people always put him on his guard. "You have me at a disadvantage. Which team should I join, how are you sure I'm not on one yet, and how do you know my name?"

"You're Seta Souji, the new transfer student in class 3-4 at Sundaikofu High. My boyfriend's in the same class, and he mentioned you."

"Without bothering to introduce himself, no less."

She shrugged shamelessly. "You don't stick around much after class, and your colouring's pretty distinct. Is it natural?"

"Yes." The answer was automatic, worn smooth from repetition.

"Cool."

Souji chuckled, a brittle, humourless sound. "Don't worry, you can say it. Weird."

"Pfft. Not in the least. I have a friend who tie dyes her hair every week and dresses like a carnival billboard. I swear she's colour-blind, but she loves it. Compared to her, natural grey's different, but pretty, well, bland."

"Silver."

"Hm?"

"My hair's silver. Not grey. I'm nowhere near that old."

Her eyes were dancing with mirth now. "Of course. Get that a lot?"

"You have no idea. So then, who're you? Aside from the basketball team's recruitment manager."

"Aha! Some humour! I expected you to be dull and boring."

"I get that a lot too."

Her smirk split her face now, showing several dimples. "Without a doubt. I'm Takenaka Megumi, class 3-2." She bowed politely, a motion that made interesting things move under her shirt.

He automatically returned the bow. "Seta Souji. Though you knew that." A cocked eyebrow above the smirk was his answer. "So what else about me is public knowledge?"

"Knowledge? Not much else. Plenty of rumours though, like you being a drug-addicted genius and the gloves cover up the track marks, or that those cloth strips on your arm are covering yakuza tattoos. I hear there're betting pools on where you're from and what your background is, and that's not getting into the theories about whether your hair's naturally that colour, and your reasons for dying it if it isn't. You're pretty popular."

Souji sighed and started walking, indicating Takenaka to follow. It figured. Inaba hardly had the monopoly on talkative students, and the number of classes and students in his grade meant that 'interesting' and 'popular' was food for the rumour mill for months. "Spare me the gossip, if it's all the same to you. Honestly, don't people have better things to do with their time?"

"Awww, don't want to be the centre of attention? Some would kill for that chance, you know."

"Same song, same dance. They can have it."

"Been there, huh?"

They reached an intersection near his apartment. "More than once. The punch line rarely changes."

"Mmmm, fair enough. Well, see you around. If you run into Toyama Yoshiro, he'll be interested in your moves on the court."

"We'll see. Until next time, Takenaka-san."

"You too, Seta-kun."

Souji made his way back home, turning the details of the encounter over in his mind, arranging and rearranging the facts and information like Naoto taught him, looking at it from different perspectives. She was attractive, there was no denying that. He got the strong impression that she knew it though, and was used to it being the first thing people noticed. That self-assurance and almost challenging poise reminded him of Rise, so tactile and used to tossing out comments that threw the others, or at least the more conservative ladies in the group, into a tailspin. Her mannerisms, hardly typical for an 'acceptable' Japanese girl, told him breaking out of the mould was a choice she'd made, not a choice that made her. He'd have to see more to know, but the investigative part of him, so well-fed after Inaba, expected that there weren't many people she confided in.

His thought were broken as he entered the apartment with a monotone 'I'm home'. His mother gave a half-hearted welcome from the living room table, which was covered with a scattering of papers and pens. As efficient as she was, and Souji knew she could do the work of two without missing a lunch break, her organization always left something to be desired.

The rest of the evening passed quietly, Souji fixing dinner and cleaning up with still no word from his father. Internally, he shrugged and revelled in the change to his schedule. He'd have to thank Kou later.

With the knowledge of the nearby court and its lack of regular use from anyone else, Souji quickly became a consistent guest at the park. After class he could be found shooting hoops, though he'd made a point of bringing shorts and a t-shirt rather than running down court in his uniform slacks. He also brought his forearm wraps, which, as they had in Inaba, became a fixture and staple of his appearance to any who noticed. His mother simply said it was 'good that he got the exercise'. Souji took to breaking his old routines apart with relish, taking a deep-seated joy when pieces of his old life fell away.

It wasn't until the following week, eight days after meeting Takenaka, that a new ripple hit his life.

He'd just warmed up and was lining up a shot from the three-point line when he caught sight of a large group of students, from Sundaikofu High if the uniforms were any indication, on the edge of the court. Souji knew that every time he practiced, people watched. Whether adults for entertainment, children for novelty, or students out of interest, he knew they were there. He knew there were girls among his regular audience, and his ego was healthy enough to admit that he was probably the reason they watched as often as they did. Part of him was uncomfortable with the attention. Another part of him preened under it. All in all though, unless the ball ended up out of court, Souji ignored them. It was a public park, after all.

Takenaka and several other girls were hanging off the arms of various male students in the group, and Souji felt a sharp stab of longing. He missed Yukiko. He missed their phone calls, conversations, even the texts reading 'thinking of you' when she was busy. She was taking a well-deserved vacation with her parents, and promised to call when she got back.

Pulling his mind back to this new group, they weren't part of the regulars. All around his age, all male except the nearby gaggle of girls (groupies, in his mind), and they were closely packed, used to being in each others' company. The one at the fore, Takenaka close at hand, caught Souji's stare, returning it with his own, both friendly and openly appraising.

Souji pulled out of his crouch and rested the ball on his hip, turning to the group. "Did you need something?"

Takenaka's beau came forward without hesitation. "Thought I'd come see it for myself. I heard you're pretty good at hoops, and figured a proper introduction was in order."

Souji's gaze flicked to Takenaka and back. "Your team recruitment manager wasn't wrong." Takenaka and the teen laughed. "Besides, it's not much of an introduction at this point. I'm Seta Souji. You're Toyama Yoshiro of Sundaikofu High, the same class as me, and, unless I'm off the mark, captain of the basketball for at least two years." Toyama's eyebrows raised while Takenaka chuckled, a deep, throaty sound that people stopped to hear. Souji's eyes didn't waver. "And before you ask, no, I'm not interested in joining the team. I told Takenaka-san as much."

Toyama broke out a broad, charming grin. "Did I mention joining the team?"

Souji remained unaffected. "No, but if you're not recruiting, then I have to wonder why the entire team, plus staff, is talking to the new transfer student."

"Because the new transfer student is a fascinating topic of conversation. You don't talk to anyone, and shoot hoops at a public court when there're plenty at the school. I hate to say it, but you're not decreasing your popularity by pulling the 'mysterious tough-guy loner' thing."

Souji grunted. Dammit. That's exactly what he'd been trying for. "So you're looking into the rumours?"

"Peh. Hardly. I wanted to see what all the noise about you on the court was about. Some of the team-" he jerked his head back "-were wondering the same, so they came along. You don't want to join the team, that's up to you. I'm not gonna push it. But I do wonder why you play if not to be on a team."

Souji was quiet for several moments, rolling responses around before opening his mouth. "Exercise. Practice. It gets me out of the house. And I'm doing it for a friend."

Toyama's brow raised. "For a friend? Someone close in the hospital or something?"

"Hardly. I met him at my last school. He's transferring after he graduates, and loves basketball. I figure my best gift is a good challenge next time I see him."

"Hm." Toyama looked thoughtful, and Takenaka's smirk was equally pensive. "That's not the answer I expected, Seta-kun. More to you than you let on."

Souji's entire almost-year in Inaba came to mind. The team, the secrets and baggage, their Shadows, and the Personas that resulted. "In my experience, that's the case with most people."

Toyama grunted thoughtfully, then shrugged. "I dunno. I know some pretty shallow people. So, you up for a game?" Souji stared thoughtfully when Toyama continued, "It's not to recruit you. I just figure you could give your friend a better challenge if you play against people. And we can always use the practice with someone new. So whaddya say? 3s or 5s, you choose." The others were gathering around Toyama, and Souji's acceptance froze when Toyama spoke up again, grinning. "Well, your hesitance is understandable. You're nervous, in awe. It's only natural in the presence of the master."

Souji was stunned speechless for a half-second before he burst out laughing. The bravado was so flawlessly executed, so seamlessly delivered, that he knew his answer right away. Controlling his chuckles, he walked up to Toyama, the two the same height. "Well then, in that case I'm stuck with a moral dilemma. Do I drop it and walk away? All that hot air could power this neighbourhood for a month." Several team members grumbled a bit, but Toyama's grin deepened, reaching his eyes and burning for the challenge like a race horse at the starting gate. "Or, do I take you up on it? And mop the court with you, from one end to the other." The air crackled, charged and alive with anticipation.

Toyama cocked his head to one side, his grin following. "So?"

Souji spun the ball, twirling and balancing it on his forefinger. "You're on."

Author's Notes: I do love my cliff hangers. They make such wonderful places to end chapters. So, enjoy, and review if you like. Many thanks to my first reviewers. Knowing someone read it that soon meant a lot. Also, a reason I'm writing this is to test my own writing, so while reviews telling me to update are good for my ego, I also love hearing what people like, or don't like, and why. Constructive criticism and chances to improve always make my week. Stay tuned!