Author's Note: Standard disclaimers apply. Don't own P4, not making money off this work, and so on. Oh, and some artistic liberties are being taken with the Japanese festival surrounding Tanabata.

Chapter 12

Souji knew there would be fallout from his day with Rise. It was inevitable. Even if he had an unlisted phone number (which he didn't), or didn't have a residence with his name plate on it (which he did), or even had classmates who didn't know anything about him and thus couldn't, or even wouldn't, say anything to the press (which wasn't the case), the world of entertainment was simply too pervasive and resourceful for him to remain in the background. Rise running into him the way she did was damning enough, but his plan to run from the press only escalated the rumours and conjecture, and what his classmates thought, suspected, guessed, and simply didn't know, they gladly told to anyone with a paper pad and voice recorder.

Rise had sent him a text the following morning, saying that she'd try to keep him out of the limelight, but bluntly, for her, telling him that it'd be a while before the matter blew over. Souji sighed and thanked her for the thought, but did so while passing by a magazine stand and seeing his face on no less than 8 separate covers. He'd had to adjust his route to school twice to avoid the places most commonly chosen by the magazine vendors just to get to class on time. He'd at least been able to pre-empt some of the press question by calling his phone service provider and telling them, with his father's voice, that none of the numbers belonging to the paparazzi were to be connected. It was going to take a few explanations, he knew, but it beat having the phone ringing off the hook all hours of the day. He was also infinitely grateful that no one at school had his cell number. Requests for it had started the minute the bus doors had closed at the exhibition grounds, and more than a few of his peers learned just how little he appreciated being incessantly bothered, no matter their gender.

And had his infamy been restricted to Kofu or Tokyo, if one could call that restricted, then at least he would have maintained some measure of solace in Inaba. He'd even tried to head off any damage by calling Yukiko that night and explaining what had happened, somewhat surprised by how well she took it and how he couldn't hear any jealousy in her voice. But four days after the exhibition he'd gotten a call from Nanako, her bubbling over in excitement, having found her Big Bro and Rise-chan together on a magazine cover. Even days later he still cringed at the memory; that had taken some fast talking, not to mention a long phone call to Dojima that had started out incredulous, then disintegrated to the elder of the two laughing at and baiting his nephew at every chance. It had been humbling, to be sure, but also helped Souji get the affair out of his system – having someone laugh at his misfortunes and showing just how amusing they could be was surprisingly cathartic.

"Seriously dude," Yosuke chuckled over the phone the next day, "you just can't leave well enough alone, can you?"

"It's not like I planned it, Yosuke. Well, not the first part."

He chuckled. "Yeah, that sounds like Rise. Still, it's almost like old times around here again."

"What? How so?"

"I can't turn a corner at work without seeing you on a magazine stand or hearing about you in the streets. Those kids you got so popular with at the daycare, a bunch of the girls at school, and even a few teachers have come through talking about you. I mean, you should hear Teddie right now. He hasn't sat still or stopped talking about you since the first mag came in. It's like you never left."

Souji twitched a little in his seat; he was sure he could hear the grin on Yosuke's face. "You're having fun with this, aren't you?"

"Nope. Not a bit."

"Yeah, thanks Yosuke."

"Hey, any time. So when're you coming back?"

"After exams are over in December, I imagine. Have to decide which universities to apply to and how I'm gonna get there."

Yosuke caught his tone right away. "Not looking forward to it?"

"I'm expecting my parents to try to play a role in that. I'm a little surprised they haven't tried yet, honestly. My parents both went to Tokyo U, so I'm sure I'll be hearing about it soon enough"

"You could always take the exams by correspondence, you know."

"True, but are there any good tutors or cram schools in Inaba?"

"Never know where you can find talent, and I hear a lot of them are working online now. Might be a way around the distance issue."

"Maybe."

The front door to the Seta residence snapped open. "Souji!" his father called.

"Well speak of the devil," Souji muttered calmly. "Yosuke, I'll have to call you back."

"Uh, sure. Good luck with... well, whatever."

He disconnected the call and stood up. "Yes Father?"

A magazine was tossed to the table, sliding to a stop in front of him. "What is this?" his father demanded.

Souji picked it up and immediately recognized the cover. It was one of the many he disliked, not just because of the cheesy "Possible Father to Risette's Child! Has She Been Keeping a Pregnancy Secret?" plastered from corner to corner, but because the angle and lighting on him was shoddy and second-rate. He was taller than the photo made him look, and there was no way his nose looked like that-

"Souji," his father snapped, his face dark with anger. "I want an explanation. What are you doing with this floozy, and why are you on every teen magazine cover?"

Souji bristled, facing his father head-on. "Rise's not a floozy. She's a friend."

"Do your friends often publicly humiliate you like this?"

"Unique circumstances, Father. The media's blowing it out of proportion."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"We met in Inaba, and she's an idol. She saw me at the actor's exhibition a little bit ago and decided to say 'Hello'."

"That's her way of saying 'Hello', Souji? She's made you a national spectacle, and this reflects upon me. And the article says you ran from the exhibition grounds and didn't come back until hours later."

Souji let a bleak smile cross his face, not willing to budge and finding a twisted joy in fighting with his father. "You of all people should know better than to listen to what the media say, father. I'm certain you've been on the receiving end of it before."

"That's beside the point," he argued. "I was never seen being swung around on by some brain-dead underage media child."

"I'm not going to repeat myself, Father," Souji whispered dangerously. "Do not call her that again."

"Don't push me, Souji," Yuuma replied, just as cold. "This is-"

"Not a discussion?" Souji finished, bordering on contempt. "And what are the repercussions this time? You can't ground me any more than you have already have, Father."

Whatever Yuuma's response would have been was cut off by Izumi coming through the door and keying into the tension almost immediately. "What's wrong?" she demanded.

Souji spoke up first. "Father and I were discussing the finer points of friendship and how it is addressed among the people we know."

Izumi looked confused. "What?"

"Have you seen these?" Yuuma demanded, pointing at the magazine on the table. "They're a disgrace!"

"I noticed them earlier. Souji?" she asked neutrally.

"Rise's a friend, and she can get a little exuberant," he explained to his parents coolly. "If it's any consolation, I don't expect her to dive offstage next time she sees me."

"No, she won't," Yuuma snapped. "Because you're not to have contact with her anymore."

"No promises."

"No, no promises. Orders. I'm the head of this household, Souji, and I will not be disrespected in my own home. You're not to have anything to do with that girl again. Am I understood?"

Souji's response would have to wait. Yuuma's cell phone rang, a small, tinny sound under the weight of the conflicting egos. "I think that's yours, Father."

"Don't push it, Souji. Yes?" he said into the phone. He nodded, twice, then turned toward his office, stopping halfway to turn back to his coldly smiling son. "Don't disregard what I told you, Souji. I will not be trifled with on this matter."

"The thought never crossed my mind," was the bland reply.

Yuuma had to respond to the phone and continue into his office. Izumi looked speculatively at her son, but Souji snorted and fished his books from his bag and started in on his homework. Asshole, he muttered to himself. He didn't notice Izumi's gaze or how she seemed a bit less placid from before.

About a month later...

Whether by the course of time or Rise's own influence, Souji slipped from the spotlight and magazine covers, albeit nowhere near as fast as he'd appeared. The calls finally stopped coming, the paparazzi found someone else's school to stake out, and Souji felt a newer, deeper disgust for entertainment media and publications that profited by shadowing celebrities. He thought he'd heard his share of petty chatter and ignorant rumour mongering from years of meetings and business parties he'd attended with his parents, but the month of conjecture and stretched truths to the outright lies taught him that office backstabbers and corporate climbers had nothing on the paparazzi.

The lack of fame or anything freshly incriminating calmed down his classmates, for the most part, and while pockets of them still insisted on bringing Rise into every conversation they had with him, his own icy responses kept the rumours at bay, or at least far enough away that he almost never heard them.

Of course, between Rise's actions when he saw her at the exhibition and the media blowing every photo and word out of proportion, his school life, as appreciably dull as it had been, utterly refused to go back to what passed for normal. Students he'd never met before wanted to talk to him about acting agents like he had them on speed dial while, despite Takenaka's influence, several of the girls in his class insisted on asking him how to catch attention of guys they liked, no matter how fresh the memory of his spurning so many advances was. Souji had become the go-to guy for just about everything, no matter how little sense it made to him or how often he asked, as politely as he could, where any of them got the idea to talk to him about their problems. He became thoroughly convinced that the reason none of them followed him home after school was his lack of attendance in any of the after-school clubs, to say nothing of his prompt exits from the building the moment classes were finished.

Of the people who had changed since that day Souji was grateful that Takenaka and Toyama weren't on that list. Takenaka had gotten over the shock of seeing him on magazine covers and resisted, after a while, ribbing him on the matter. He'd been surprised, and a little touched, that she took the time to deny the rumours surrounding him when they got too unreal. Toyama, once he'd gotten over his bout of fanboyism so evident at the exhibition grounds, had been heard telling the rest of the basketball team to cut the chatter and focus on things that mattered. With a string of preliminary tournaments approaching fast, it wasn't a tall order for most of them to meet.

Except Yuhara.

Souji's face twisted into a voiceless snarl, distorting his reflection in the train window. Yuhara Hideyoshi had, despite Toyama's insistence, made a point of bringing Rise into a discussion whenever Souji was around, typically the moment the topic turned to members of the fairer sex. Rather than the conversation focusing on her songs or idol status, they almost inevitably connected her to sex, setting Souji's teeth on edge without fail. Speculation of her dimensions and whether they were genuine or surgically enhanced, relationship status, and a variety of other insinuations that reminded Souji immediately of the Yasogami team's discussion of Ebihara Ai became commonplace chatter when Yuhara was around. And since so many of the team's members were hormonally-driven male teens with levels of discretion ranging between 'a little bit' and 'none at all', it was a topic raised with an infuriating measure of frequency. Toyama, as he had before, told Souji he'd talk to them about it. Souji did one better – he stopped attending the team's practices at school and began running and shooting hoops on the park courts on his own again, with some of the team mates seeking him out for practice, Toyama in particular. Yuhara was not among that number.

Souji knew he should be more mature than letting a loudmouthed braggart get under his skin, but with Toyama's wishes to keep the team working together, at least until the next set of hurdles were overcome, it became harder and harder when said loudmouth was gaining a reputation for guts by throwing the topic in the unflappable and iron-cold transfer student's face. Or perhaps he was just growing to hate Yuhara on a personal level, despite not knowing him for very long.

Ding Approaching Yamanashi Station. Passengers departing at Yamanashi Station, please have your personal effects in hand. We accept no liability for lost or damaged items. I repeat...

Some of the team had heard, through means he had yet to determine, that he was heading out of town for the day and happened to be going the same direction for a team meeting. Toyama convinced Souji only by promising to keep Yuhara under control and mentioning that a group ticket rate was cheaper and better for all parties involved. Thus Toyama, Takenaka, Yuhara, the coach, and a few others were on the other side of the train car, deep in discussion while Souji took in the scenery and checked his phone once more for any new messages, and he was the first one off the train when it stopped.

Rise was there to meet him at the station, in an open Yasogami school uniform and short-sleeved shirt with very little make up, though her hair was up in its usual pigtails. She greeted him with her usual "Hey Senpai!" before walking over. She caught sight of the group behind him, and while her smile never budged, her eyes did flicker across some of their faces, narrowing. He couldn't read her expression, but before he could mention it, she was next to him and resting against his arm, typical Rise smile firmly in place. "So Senpai, where're we going?"

Souji shook off his analyses. Let the ladies have their secrets. "You know the area better than I do, Rise. And you said we should kill some time together, so..."

She gripped his arm harder. "Awww, you're so sweet Senpai. Putting a day aside just to visit with me?"

"Well, that's part of it. I was also hoping you knew of a few jewelry stores in the area."

"Oh? Getting a present for someone?"

"Something like that, yeah."

"It's customary not to tell your girlfriend you're getting her something until after the bill's paid, Seta," Yuhara called from behind, his eyes not leaving Rise.

Souji's own eyes narrowed as he turned around. "Duly noted, Yuhara. And duly ignored." He turned back to Rise. "Anyway, I don't know much about jewelry, so, help me out?"

"I think we finally found something you can't do, Senpai," Rise replied teasingly with a sparkle in her eye. "And if I'm gonna help you, I expect something in return."

"Like what? Carry your bags?"

Her eyes went wide, too wide to be innocent no matter how hard she tried. "Of course not, Senpai!"

"Uh huh."

"I'm serious!"

"Alright, then what did you have in mind?"

"What're you doing July 14th?"

"July 14th... You mean Tanabata?"

"Yep."

"Nothing so far. Why?" She didn't answer, but looked at him expectantly. "Rise?"

She kept silent and cocked her head to one side, an eyebrow raising speculatively. Souji looked around and noticed they were starting to catch attention.

He sighed. "As a friend, would you accept my invitation to the Tanabata festival, Kujikawa Rise?"

She giggled in response and shot in for a quick hug before taking her customary place on his arm. "I'd be glad to, Senpai! I didn't know you felt that way about me."

"It's not-"

"Let's go! We can start over here."

"Rise..." He sighed. "Never mind. See you guys later," Souji called over his shoulder, not bothering to look. It wasn't until they'd gotten a few blocks away from the group that Souji let the tension drain from his shoulders.

Rise picked up on it in a heartbeat and looked up curiously. "Something wrong? You're not regretting this, are you?"

"No, it's not that. I'm just having a spat with some of the players on the basketball team."

"Anything serious?"

"No, not really. Guy stuff, I guess."

She pulled to a stop and stood on her toes, looking at his face closely with a face of intense concentration.

Souji reflexively pulled back from the scrutiny as much as she, still wrapped around his arm, would allow. "What?"

"I think that's the first time you've ever admitted to doing guy stuff, Senpai."

"Uh, okay."

"You know what I mean, right?"

"Not really."

"Guys our age act like kids. They make up rumours about girls who shoot them down, they brag about conquests they've never had, and they act like everyone should know who they are. In a nutshell, most of them are jerks."

"So, what does that have to do with me? I don't think I do anything like that."

She shook her head. "No, you don't. And that's the point. You're nothing like them, and it's terrific to be around you for that. So it's strange to hear you say 'guy stuff' when you're one of the most un-guy-like people I know."

"Oh. Well it was probably bound to happen," Souji shrugged. "I'm male, after all."

Where had that come from?

Rise let go of his arm, turned, and looked him over fully, making a show of slowly running her eyes over him while her hands twitched. Souji tried, and failed, to fight down a blush. It was like she was resisting the urge to reach out and touch, or like he was a dessert course and she couldn't decide where to start. When her eyes rose to his, they were smouldering, and she leaned up beside his face, grabbing the lapels of his jacket and making a point of slowly inhaling. "Oh I know you're male, Senpai," she whispered in a low murmur that scorched the side of his face and made him shiver. "Very, very male, and that's something else I love about you."

"R-Rise," he choked out, feet cemented to the ground. He wanted to lean away from her, or lean into her, or ask her what she was doing, but couldn't find the will to do anything besides stand there and watch.

Fortunately, she pulled back with an impish smile, her eyes going from dim bedroom to bright outdoors faster than he could register. "I know, Senpai." What? "You're just too much fun though!" she giggled.

Souji tried to follow her mood swings, but stopped when his brain coughed and tripped over itself for the fourth time in under half a minute. "Right. So, where were we going?" he asked finally.

"Depends on you, Senpai. What were you looking for?"

He looked at her closely, trying to gauge her mood before he said anything. As usual, she stumped him, putting on her chipper air of effervescent happiness that was two notches short of air-headed ditziness. He knew she was smart, knew the flighty model image was as much a mask as his own aloof detachment, and for that reason she was probably the only member of the Investigation Team he couldn't read with a measure of accuracy, rivalling even Naoto's veneer of culture and bookworm intelligence. Well, her and Teddie. His spontaneity was hard to predict on a good day. So, he braced himself for a possible fallout and said "I want to get something for Yukiko."

"Oh cool!" she replied immediately, throwing him off balance. No hurt pause, no hesitation, no shift in demeanour whatsoever. Had he been wrong, thinking Rise was attracted to him? Did she not mind that he was buying Yukiko a gift? Or was she a better actor than even he gave her credit for? "What did you have in mind? What's the occasion? Is it her birthday? Any idea what she'd go for?"

"That's... her birthday's in December, so it's not for that. And I'm still not sure what I should get, which is why I wanted your help."

"Sure thing, Senpai. Leave it to me. I know a great place we can hit up. C'mon." She started pulling him along by the arm, not giving him much choice.

"Right," he answered slowly, still waiting for the hammer to fall. Only it didn't. She directed him across the street past some food vendors and tugged him up to a store front with the same happy smile and bubbly giggle as ever. When she looked at him curiously for the third time, not a trace of guile on her face and asking why he looked so serious, he finally shrugged and let it go. Whatever happened, happened.

"So where did you want to start?" she asked as they approached a block of stores fronting clothes, jewelry, accessories, and expensive food.

"I'm not sure. Just figured I'd look around until something jumped out at me."

"Pfft. Typical male," she chuckled. "Well we have to start somewhere, so c'mon."

He followed her into a high-end clothing store, looking around and trying to imagine Yukiko in the various dresses, skirts, pullovers, and jackets when he realized that he didn't know her size. Not to mention, as he told Rise, that nothing quite seemed like something she'd wear, either too flashy, cut too deep, too staid, too short, and so on. Rise just chuckled and pulled him deeper into the store before telling him to look around some more and take his time, to the giggles of various other female shoppers. Souji frowned thoughtfully; had he missed something?

Then he turned and saw exactly what was so funny. How he hadn't noticed, he'd never know, but Rise had led him right to the middle of the lingerie and unmentionables section of the store. Rows and piles and hangers full of frilly lace and fine leather, transparent, semi-transparent and opaque, v-necks, flatteners, push-ups, nightwear for sleeping, before, after and during, and all in every shade he could imagine, and many in shades he'd never seen before. He tried to wrap his head around just what Rise was trying to pull by leaving him there, but, as before, she'd left his thoughts in a tailspin. All he could do for a moment was stand and, to the appearance of anyone around him, stare.

"Your girlfriend must be very trusting to let you walk around here," one customer mentioned, nodding to where Rise was posing with various nightgowns in front of a mirror. "Most have to keep their boys on a leash."

"It's not what it looks like," he replied mechanically.

The woman chuckled. "Of course dear, of course. Still, it's encouraging to see such devotion and maturity in the young. That simply doesn't happen often enough."

Rise, who'd caught the latter half of the conversation, came up and wrapped around Souji's arm. "Yep. He's the best." Her tone, he realized with a tinge of horror, could have meant anything.

The woman laughed this time. "It seems so. Don't let him go, dear." Then she left to look at the racks on her own, apparently pleased with herself.

Rise turned to him, head cocked. "So, find anything you like Senpai?"

"What are you doing?"

"Hm? What do you mean?" Her eyes were a mix of impish glee and feigned innocence. Neither worked against the sober stare, bordering on a scowl, he sent her.

"Bringing me in here is like the beginning of a bad romance novel, Rise, or a cheesy anime. What are you trying to prove here?"

"Nothing Senpai. You said this was about you and Yukiko-senpai, and some girls like to be surprised with things like this," she waved her hand out, indicating the various scraps of cloth and lace and silk.

"You don't think this is going a little far? And wouldn't that send the wrong message?"

She looked around, then nudged him into a corner, looking serious for a change. "How would this be going a little far?"

"You know Yukiko, Rise. She didn't take your mention of her dimensions at the hospital last year very well, remember? Me sending her lingerie probably wouldn't do me any favours. I don't want to freak her out, and our relationship isn't like that."

"Yet."

"What?"

"Your relationship's not like that yet, but it probably will be someday, right? Isn't that where you two are going?"

Souji stopped. He pictured Yukiko in her sleeping yukata, how she looked when he woke up next to her, and all the times she'd worn a kimono, embodying that classical beauty and sense of propriety that both intrigued him and set him at ease. That thought, however, also led to the memory of how her legs looked when so much of them were bare, not to mention how much he appreciated the sleek cut of her summer shirts and skirts with their gentle yet riveting sway. "But it isn't there yet, Rise," he finally replied. "And I'd rather not rattle her by giving the wrong impression. How would it look if I sent her something like that?" He pointed to a semi-transparent baby doll on a rack next to them.

"Pretty honest and mature, if you ask me." She was serious. It was in her solid stance, not turned away, and the firm resolve in her eyes.

He sighed. "Can you explain that one to me?"

"You're asking me to explain a girl's secrets to a guy. That's breaking the rules. You know that, right?"

"Indulge my curiosity. Just this once."

"Buying nightwear for a girl means you're being unconventional, Senpai, but it also suggests..." she searched the ceiling for the word, "intimacy, and not just in bed. It says you're more than just a friend, and if you know her dimensions and pick something in good taste, then you have information probably not a lot of other people do. So nightwear is something only you could get her."

Souji frowned, turning her words over. He wouldn't have made that connection, not even if he'd been paid to, but the way Rise said it made sense.

"It's not just about the obvious connections," she continued, "but about the deeper meaning behind it. Doesn't that strike you as a bit romantic?"

"I can see where you're coming from, but I think you're assuming that Yukiko will make that connection."

"True, but you're assuming she won't."

He sighed again. Her logic was solid, but he couldn't shake the feeling that buying Yukiko something to go under her clothes was going a little too far. "Fair enough, but I'd rather play it safe for now, alright?"

Rise stared at him for a moment, then her trademark smile bloomed across her face again. "Sure thing, Senpai. I'm nearly done, so just give me a minute?"

"No problem."

While Rise looked at and touched everything she could, Souji was content to hang back and blend into the wallpaper, and while he garnered his share of stray looks from the female customers and employees, he made a point of ignoring them until Rise was done. When she finally came back, it was with a small bag containing two small packages. He shook his head when he saw her, wondering how she could spend that much time in a store just to come out with so little, but didn't bother asking – regular shopping trips with her and Ai back in Inaba and Okina City had taught him that much about shopping with girls. They continued down the sidewalk, glancing into some stores, stopping and browsing at others, and every now and again Rise would come back out with another bag to add to her growing collection, growing large enough that Souji faced the inevitable and offered to carry half of them. But for all the clothes shops and jewelry stores and boutiques filled with perfumes and soaps and trinkets, nothing jumped out at him. They stopped for lunch, chatted about Rise's new Kofu office and studio and shows, and then continued on.

They were passing another jewelry store when something in the window caught Souji's eye. He pulled to a stop for a second look, and what he saw immediately piqued his interest.

A pair of earrings, polished until they shone, winked back at him in the afternoon sunlight, resting in a dark wooden box. They were shaped like fans, reminding him of Yukiko's weapon of choice in the TV world, and highlighted by several strings of red and green beads. When he looked closer he saw columns of kanji characters scribed into each of the fan's folds, catching the words 'good luck' at least once. "Interesting..."

"Hm? What's up Senpai?" Rise asked, poking her head around him to see what he was looking at. "Oooh, those're pretty."

"Yeah." He adjusted the bags he was carrying and slipped into the store. "Excuse me," he called.

"One moment, dear." An older woman, her face beginning to crinkle at the edges like foil but still bearing the marks of a smooth, classical beauty, came bustling around the counter to meet him. "Ah, good afternoon. How can I help you?"

"I was wondering about those earrings you have in the window. The ones shaped like fans."

"Ah yes, those. What did you want to know?"

Souji looked around for Rise, and noticed her perusing the shelves on the other side of the store. "I'm looking for something for my girlfriend. It's an anniversary gift."

The woman's eyes glowed, an unusual but welcoming shade of brown so light that they bordered on amber. "I think they would do very well for that."

"Are the beads on them right now the only colour they come in?"

"That's right. Will that be a problem?"

"She likes red, actually, so they're just fine. What do they cost?" The woman told him, and he raised an eyebrow. They weren't out of his price range, but were more expensive than he expected. "Could I see them?"

"Of course." She bustled toward the window display and came back with the box in hand, and by then Rise was hovering near his arm, looking on curiously. Souji handed Rise's shopping bags back to her for a moment, holding the box in his left hand while he fished around in his jacket breast pocket with his right, closing his fingers together when he felt the edge of the photo and pulling it out. It was a picture Chie had taken of them last September, a few weeks after they'd had their fateful little heart to heart on the shrine steps. It showed him and Yukiko sitting under the gazebo at the Samegawa, holding hands. He had a smile on his face while he watched her laugh. He couldn't remember the joke he'd told her, or if it had been a joke and not just a slip of the tongue. "She's beautiful," the woman murmured as she looked at the photo. Souji nodded in agreement, twisting the earrings and photo side to side and trying to imagine Yukiko wearing them, seeing her hair and red barrette against the beads.

Rise shuffled beside him, looking at the earrings and photo. "Senpai?"

He didn't look over, or let himself second guess the matter. He nodded and handed the earrings back to the woman and said "sold."

In the time spent around the teenagers who had become his closest friends and made up the Investigation Team, and particularly around the young woman who had become his first serious girlfriend, Souji had learned one thing. Well, that wasn't quite true. He'd learned many things from them, but one thought in particular was echoing around his mind days after his and Rise's shopping trip: that objects and actions were well and good, but words to express a sentiment or idea, no matter what it was, worked better than hoping the target of his expressions properly interpreted what he meant. Inaba had taught him, more and more, how useful words were when spoken, and how powerful they could be when used at the right time.

This was why, days after he'd bought his girlfriend an anniversary gift, he was still pacing circles throughout his kitchen and beating his head against the proverbial wall on what the note accompanying the gift should say. He'd tripped through numerous line of poetry and made countless comparisons to her and nature, from the stars and night sky to a clear day in winter, from the scent of tea to the feeling of silk, and every other cliché and bad line imaginable. He'd gone through a pad of paper in two days, writing up drafts and tearing them out to the point that he was filling as much of the paper as he could to cut his costs. It didn't work. His nights as he tried to sleep, mornings on the way to school, afternoons during breaks or basketball practice, and evenings between bouts of homework were all shifted and reorganized to accommodate for snapping pencils, bleeding pens empty, and tearing off another sheet and throwing it to the nearest garbage can with the regularity of a metronome.

It was also why, after almost a week, he found himself in the library staring out a window and twirling his coin through his fingers with several open books of poetry spread out in front of him, lost in thought and trying to put his words together.

"Seta-kun."

He looked up, noticing Takenaka looking at him from a nearby bookshelf.

"You looked a million miles away," she observed. "What's up?"

"Just thinking."

"You've been doing that a lot since you got back from that shopping trip. Is everything alright?"

He wanted to sluff it off. That was his first and second response to almost everything at school nowadays. But he was also flat out of ideas and in need of advice, preferably of the feminine variety. He couldn't talk to Rise about sending Yukiko letters – Tanabata was a few days away and he still didn't know how she felt about his relationship. And his mother, not that he would have asked her anyway, had broken out of her strange phase of asking him how his day was or trying to talk about his schooling beyond his grades and returned to her usual 10-hour days at work. Just as well; her odd looks were getting more curious by the day.

So instead of rebuffing his schoolmate, Souji sighed and motioned for her to sit across from him. "I guess so. I could use some help."

She quirked an eyebrow at him, her lips spreading into a smirk. He expected some comment about 'that's a first', and he was sure she was saying it in her head. But the words didn't come out and she took her seat after dropping her books on the table. "What are you working on?"

"A letter to my girlfriend." He watched her closely, gauging her reaction.

And, per usual, she defied his expectations by folding her hands in front of her on the table's surface. "You don't mean Risette."

"That's right."

"What's it for? A love letter?"

"Not really. It's for an anniversary, of sorts."

She cocked her head to the side. "Of sorts?"

"Yeah." He met her stare with his own, but could see her thoughts running amok even from across the table. "Is that so strange?"

"Most guys don't remember anniversaries, let alone try to celebrate them. I'm impressed."

"I'm told I don't fit the mould of most guys my age."

She chuckled. "More like most guys in general, regardless of age. So, what's the problem?"

"I can't think of what to write," he replied in exasperation, leaning back in his chair.

"What've you tried?"

"Everything. Romantic poetry, haikus, a recounting of the last time we met, first time we met, and even something in between. None of the books I've read talk about writing a letter are any help, and I'm... What's so funny?"

She had the back of one hand held up to her face and the other on her stomach, clearly trying to keep from laughing out loud. When she caught his curious yet sincere glance, she doubled over again, barely keeping quiet. Even from across the table Souji heard her restrained laughs. He sighed and leaned back, waiting for her to finish. When she finally did, she waved in front her face, trying to keep control. "Sorry, I'm sorry, but that just sounds so much like you." She let a few giggles as he cocked an eyebrow.

"Okay... I'm not sure I see the humour though."

"You're very logical, Seta-kun, so that you started with reading books on how to write a love letter is..." she trailed off in soft laughter again.

"I thought that would be rather appropriate, all things considered."

"Oh it is," she replied finally, seeming to have gotten her mirth under control. "And that's the point. It's cute."

"Uh, thanks."

"My point being that it's just as well you're still here. I assume she's important to you?"

"Of course."

"Then you owe her something more than a copy-paste formula taken out of a book, you know? Especially if it's for an important anniversary."

"And that's where I'm tripping up. What should I write?"

"Well, what's it the anniversary of?"

"When we... first started going out, I guess you could say." He caught her curious look. "It's a little complicated."

"Hm. Well, what's she like?"

Souji stared across the table, putting a stop to his habitual coin flipping and tapping a finger on the table. Part of him, the part he was trying to get away from but refused to budge an inch, still wanted to brush her off and keep her separate from his life. Yet when he put together every past encounter with this girl, and Toyama, now that he thought about it, he couldn't find a rational reason not to trust her. She'd been one of his first sort-of friends in Kofu, she'd been his introduction to the basketball team, and she'd always reserved judgement when the school was abuzz about him, whether it had been the rumours when he first moved in, or the debacle with Rise and the media. She hadn't even changed much after he'd rebuffed the girls who'd sent him those letters, though he knew at least a few of them were her friends.

But that newer part of himself, born in Inaba and still clumsily wobbling along on shaky legs and baby steps, told him he had to take chances sometimes. It was why he had the friends he did, and why he had a girlfriend to buy presents for and try to write letters to. Takenaka had stuck with him when others had given up on getting around his calm aloofness. Besides, he thought to himself, with everyone thinking he was Risette's boy toy, it wasn't like news of Yukiko would shock anyone.

He finally reached into his binder and pulled an inner sleeve open, extracting a few photos and sliding them across the table. Takenaka's expression softened when she looked at them, handling the edges carefully.

"She's beautiful," she said finally. "And I see why you're working so hard now."

"So... any suggestions?"

"Thanks for showing me those." She handed the photos back and Souji slid them into their place. "If you were like Yuhara, I'd give you the worst advice I could." She held up a hand when Souji bristled at any comparison between them. "But you aren't, and those photos say a lot. So my advice? Stop writing to impress her. Don't try to be eloquent or flowery, and don't copy something out of the books."

Souji chose his words carefully, trying not to offend the voice of advice. "That's what I was thinking, but that doesn't really help me write something she'll like."

"Be honest. Bring up some details of why you have an anniversary in the first place."

"That might be a bit... Hm. You think so?"

She nodded toward his binder. "I don't think the girl in those photos needs anything groundbreaking. She looks happy enough as it is, and that's before she's getting whatever you're sending her."

"Good point. But you think it's that simple?"

"Why does it need to be complicated?"

She had a point, he admitted.

"Something simple's going to reflect you a lot better than those do," she pointed at the books spread between them.

"Hm. You're a hopeless romantic, aren't you?"

"Seems like we have that in common," she pointed out.

"A valid point."

"So does that help?"

"It gives me a place to start. And saves me from taking more books home."

She chuckled and began gathering her own books.

"Hey." He struggled with the words, but felt that they were fitting nonetheless. "Thanks, Megumi-san."

She looked a bit surprised at the shift in names, then smiled a genuine smile with less cunning humour than he was used to seeing. "You're welcome, Souji-kun. See you tomorrow?"

He nodded.

"Good luck."

"Thanks again."

As she left the library, Souji took a moment to stare out the window again, lost in thought about Yukiko and Kofu and his own part to play in what was going on around him. Baby steps.

He brought out a new pen and started writing. And this time, far fewer sheets of paper were sent flying to the trash bin.

The days leading up to Tanabata passed Souji in a blur. Between his finally writing out a letter he was happy with and the other plans that had to be made in getting the gift to Inaba for August 6th, his world consisted of his house, classroom, phone, and books. He'd even been cutting basketball practice in favour of juggling his schedule, and that had been before the announcement of impending exams. Together his parents looked confused by his change in routine for no less than 26 minutes over one week before diving into their own work again.

But as he'd donned his jacket and freshly-ironed slacks, polished shoes and new shirt and standard full-finger gloves, he felt like the rush to make all the arrangements was worth it. He couldn't be there to see Yukiko's face when the gift got there, but that didn't change the feeling that he'd done something right from making a home in his chest since the last call had been made. He waved through the usual Q&A session with his parents as he headed out the door and took the time to enjoy the walk to Rise's apartment.

When he arrived, he nodded politely to the doormen and made his way to her apartment. He called through the rich mahogany a moment before it was unlocked and cracked open. "C'mon in!" she told him before scampering back to her room as he tentatively entered and looked around. He was a little surprised by the opulent furniture and bookcases, but wasn't surprised at all by the strings of fan mail and the homey, lived-in feel the apartment had. It was a strong enough contrast to his own place that it was hard to miss, and he gravitated toward the kitchen, running his hands over the counter surface. He was still there when Rise popped out of what he assumed was a bed room or dressing room, tying her hair into her trademark tails. A woman he'd never met before followed Rise, tugging the idol's obi into place and nodding quietly to Souji. He reflexively returned the nod, but wondered who she was.

"Thanks for the help, Hiyori-san," Rise said, a little muffled by her raised arms and finishing touches. "Couldn't have done it without you."

"It's no trouble, Rise-chan," the woman replied, standing back to examine her work and finding it satisfactory. "Be sure to enjoy yourself. Seta Souji-san, wasn't it?" she inquired as she turned to him.

He nodded. "That's right."

"Please take care of Rise-chan tonight."

Rise sighed. "Hiyori-san, I don't need a chaperone."

"Of course not. We're just watching out for you."

"Rise can usually take care of herself," Souji replied steadily. "But if the situation ever comes up where she needs help, I'll be there to offer it."

The woman bowed. "That's all I ask. And thank you for escorting her this evening."

Rise shook her head, starting to look a little put out. "I'm not a child anymore. You can tell Inoue that too."

"She's a friend," was all Souji said, not willing to risk Rise's ire by appearing to take sides. The woman nodded once and slipped out of the apartment, either unaware of Rise's near-glare or ignoring it.

The idol huffed when the door closed. "So I can parade around in front of cameras and complete strangers in a two-piece swimsuit for hours without anyone speaking up, but I can't go to a festival in the middle of the city with a friend?"

"They're being cautious," he replied.

"Did that look like caution to you?"

He gave her a bland smile. "They care, Rise, and it shows. It might be stifling sometimes, but it can be a lot worse."

She glared at him almost petulantly. "You're supposed to take my side."

"It's better to have the help and concern and not need it. Was she here to help you with your clothes?"

"Never worn a kimono, have you Senpai?" He shook his head. "Some of it you can get on alone, but the obi? Not a chance, or at least not if you want to get it right."

"I see. Well, you look good in it."

Rise perked up immediately. "Oooh, you think so?" She started twisting and turning, showing off for his benefit. Unlike the kimono she'd worn in Inaba, this one was a closer orange to her usual tank tops and summer dresses, and was decorated with a small flock of birds in flight up her sleeves and across her and back. The obi in question was a red that set off her hair and makeup nicely. She blushed lightly and grabbed him in a quick hug when he told her as much, and then started gathering her things to prepare for their night out. When she had her keys and purse in hand and locked the door behind them, he offered his arm as they made their way out the building an onto the street. She took it almost by reflex, and they headed for the festival grounds. And they weren't even under the first set of lanterns when he heard someone call out 'Look! It's Risette!"

From that point on their progress through the festival was slow since every teenager and young adult, and even a lot of the adults, had to stop and see Risette in the flesh. Photos, autographs, words of inspiration, or just a striking smile, it was all lapped up by the crowds. When he asked her if they were going to need another escape route, she gave him a look that asked if he was kidding. "Run? In this? Not a chance, Senpai. Besides, this isn't so bad. Just enjoy the attention for now." He shot her a puzzled look – why would he be enjoying the attention when she was at the centre of it? Then she pointed to a small group of girls, all around his age, who were staring at the pair with clear interest in their eyes, and they weren't looking at Rise. He sighed and edged as close to her as propriety would allow, but didn't release the tension in his shoulders until the crowds died down and began to move around them. By then Rise had also attached herself to his arm as per usual, and familiarity was a welcome distraction.

The festival was, as they always were, a mishmash of game and food vendors, plays and acts by local and professional performers, traditional songs and stories passed on in the region, and, Souji's personal favourite, chains of coloured lanterns and a wide variety of charms hanging on wires and dancing in the breeze. The people around him and Rise were an equal smattering of the modern and the traditional. Some men and women were in their normal street clothes, others in suits, too busy to change from work, and others yet, like Rise, in yukata and kimonos. The sight was nostalgic. No matter where he'd lived or what his parents were doing, Japanese festivals were concrete events that he could always partake in, a kind of permanence that he needed during a youth of transience. And so, like his informal cooking lessons, he'd taken to attending every festival he could, either with a caretaker when he wasn't old enough to go alone, or by himself or the odd friend when he was.

Rise nudged him out of his reminiscence and pulled him toward a vendor where they were selling animal masks, then towards a series of games, and then to the food stalls, and back to the games. And with every event, he felt more of that old fascination return. The feeling of history in the stories of Tentei and Orihime, the tales of the Tokyo and Kofu region that he'd never heard before, and the recognition of, and indulgence in, his country's history was like putting on an old jacket, worn to his size and never wearing out no matter how much he aged. It was a preoccupation, his father said, that was pointless because of its brevity. Success and meaning were determined by longevity and resilience to change, his father continued, so a night of fun and games wouldn't change what was waiting for him the next day. Souji argued that a celebration that had lasted since the Edo period was exactly that, a long-living tradition, but his father had stopped listening by then. That was the last time he tried to bring them along to anything.

He let some of the tension from the crowd blitz fade away and got more into the games. He excelled at the ring-toss and dart-throwing games while she had a surprising knack for target shooting. They shared memories of past festivals and traded embarrassing experiences of their own, laughing and acting more like normal teenagers with every step.

By the time they headed through the park and down to the lake for the fireworks, the sun had gone down completely and the crowds were either dispersing from an evening of festivities and parades and stories, or finding their own places along the hillside and forested park and waterfront. Rise insisted on the lakeside. "Everyone's been camping out on the hills for their own spots," she told him. "And the fireworks look so cool on the water." They had nudged past and slipped through the crowd and just gotten a good spot when noise of the crowd died down in anticipation.

Souji leaned against the rails surrounding the lake and looked up into the sky. Between the trees and the lack of clouds, the city lights felt far away, adding to the enclosed serenity of the area. The light chatter of the people around him fell into the background as he stared, smiling when the first of the night's fireworks whistled into the air. "Ooo, look Senpai!" Rise gasped at his side. He nodded. More joined them, whether they were blue streamers or explosions of red and green and gold. Some burst into a series of crackles while others whistled in streaks like shooting stars. Around him, others were drawn to the sight, similarly entranced. When he glanced over at his friend, he let a smile cross his face at her girlish glee at each detonation. No matter where he was or what was going on, he knew he was lucky to have her. Her and his other friends, no matter the distance.

Then his eyes were drawn to the water's surface, calm except for a few spectators paddling around in boats. The colours above looked almost surreal on the lake's reflection when they cut through the gloom, smooth and unbroken and mixing together. The sight pulled at a memory, and suddenly he wasn't in Kofu at a park during Tanabata. He wasn't hundreds of miles from his friends and family. Instead he was back in Inaba, at the festival at the shrine, surrounded by the Investigation Team and his uncle and cousin. He was on a hill watching the others enjoy the fireworks themselves. Rise and Nanako clapping and cheering under Dojima's watchful eye. Kanji picking his third meal of the night clean while Teddie tried something new from the food stands. Chie and Yosuke in discussion near a bench along the stone path.

And there she was. Next to him and equal parts reserve and allure in purple and silver, lustrous hair loose in the night air and stirring in the breeze. The colours of the fireworks played across her face, blues and reds chasing yellows while the whites at once softened her cheeks and almost made them glow. She turned her eyes to him, more open than he'd ever seen them since their talk at the shrine two weeks before where he'd said those fateful words. She had his right hand, unhindered by gloves or scars, in both of hers, soft as clouds and smooth as marble. Neither said anything as the night closed around them. Instead his left hand came up to her cheek while one of hers broke their hold and rested on his neck, and it was there that they shared their first kiss. He couldn't remember who started it, or when it ended, but he'd never forget her cool touch on his skin and the little sigh she'd made on contact.

When he came back to himself, he felt his cheeks tingling from the smile on his face. He looked back up into the sky and felt her touch across the miles, her breath on his face, and her laugh in his ears like it had never left. He closed his hands on the rail and, for just that night, let her take his worries away.

Wish you were here, Yukiko.

Author's Note: Yep, still alive. My academics might have attempted otherwise, but I'm still here, really without any excuse for why it took as long as it did to get this one out besides school and life, and those don't count. So since there isn't an excuse, I won't give you guys one.

Thanks again to everyone for the faves and alerts and reviews from last chapter. Felt like I ended it on just the right note to add to the speculation, so good to know it had that effect. As for Rise and what she meant on that last line? It's coming. More of her in the future.

Finally, as I'm a firm believer in giving credit where it's due, the earrings Souji saw were not of my own design, but something I found on DeviantArt, and described with the poster's permission. For those interested in seeing the original picture, search for "Touch of the Orient Earrings".

Like this one? Don't? I love to hear why, no matter which side of the fence my readers are on.