Morning cuddles. No matter what else happened during the day, this would always be his favourite part of it. Futaba loved being skin to skin while they slept and she was always so affectionate. It was hard to wake up in a bad mood when he did so with Futaba smiling up at him with love in her eyes. It didn't hurt that as often as not that wake-up would also involve his dick being in her mouth, but honestly he could take or leave that. He was happy that she was there, and overjoyed she was always just as happy as he. "Morning," he greeted her.

She squeezed him tighter, her whole body wrapped around his like a limpet. "Morning!" Her cheek nuzzled his chest like a cat begging for attention.

Attention he was glad to give her via his hand stroking along her back. "Have I said I love you recently?"

"Twice, two days ago."

Well, that was good. Still. "I love you, Futaba."

Sent sent a bemused, sleepy smile his way. "I love you too," then rested her head on him again. "What's got you all sappy? You're not feeling guilty for having sex with Sumire are you? I told you it's super hot seeing you fuck other girls. Then again, maybe you should feel guilty for not letting me join in."

Ren wasn't sure how he got so lucky to have such a deviant or liberated girlfriend. Maybe it was good karma for all the shit he had to deal with last year. "It seemed like she was making a pretty personal choice. I'm still not sure if I made the right call going along with it, but it was definitely about me and her." He smirked as he patted her on the butt. "If there's a next time I'll see if she's okay with you joining in."

"If there's a next time," he could hear the rolling eyes in her tone, "From how she looked after, there's gonna be a next time, Ren."

And he looked forward to it. He didn't know how to feel about that. The whole situation had him second-guessing every decision and desire that came into his head.

"So we're going for Ann next?"

For example. "I guess."

She slid herself on top of him, not in an especially sexual way though she did let her thighs close around his morning wood. It was more to rest fully on top of him so she could see him without craning her neck. "What's up?"

"I don't know, I feel like I'm being selfish I guess," he admitted. "I know we talked out why we can't really go for anyone but our friends yet. Even still, we could've gone for Haru or Yusuke or Ryuji or Makoto, someone I'm not trying to untangle issues with. Instead I want to go for the girl who wants to be with me because I'd feel like a heel stringing her along." After his unwanted meeting with Sachiko he was having trouble denying the truth of what she said. He was manipulating Ann. And his excuse of it being for her own good rang hollow. This Ann was a grown woman who could make her own choices. He was just afraid of the consequences once she shared the same headspace as another version of herself.

Futaba tried not to roll her eyes at the mention of Makoto, as though that would go any differently than with Ann. The strait-laced punk booty queen was about as head over heels for Ren as Ann was, she just never had a chance to express it. "Ren, stop worrying so much about being selfish. It's not like we're only going after her, right? We're all working on other people while you're working on Ann. I'll be getting to know Rise, Naoto'll be talking to that Kanji guy she likes, Sumire said she'd be talking to that girl from the martial arts clubs."

That was true, Ren could admit. Maybe he was being a little– His train of thought stopped, or rather was interrupted. He blinked as he looked down at his girlfriend. "Martial arts clubs?"

"Mm-hm," Futaba hummed through pinched lips. "That Chie girl is in like, every martial arts club the school has. Don't know what her deal is but Sumire said she could chat her up about doing athletics or something."

"... Huh." Maybe he needed to pay more attention to those IM conversations.

"Point is, except for Sumire, we're all being pretty selfish. You wanna figure things out with Ann, Naoto wants her boyfriend back and I wanna see your dick get up in some idol pussy."

He stared down at her. "Your priorities are messed up."

"Huh. So they are. Maybe you should judge me for being super selfish."

His chest puffed once as he huffed out a laugh. "Fine, okay, you win. I guess I'm being a little neurotic about all this." He just didn't want to be like her. Maybe his worrying about that was getting in the way of actually solving the problem.

"See? Your girlfriend is way smarter than you. Listen to her. And reward her with cuddles."

Well she wasn't wrong about any of that. And cuddles? He could definitely do that.

-(-)-

Noise. Noise. Always the incessant chattering, demeaning, accusatory, rumour-mongering noise.

She tried not to think about it. Tried to tune it out as she sat at her desk waiting for homeroom to start. The constant whispering. Overhearing her name or that name, knowing they were talking about her. Judging her. It had only been a few days since she had transferred to Shujin and she had already alienated her classmates. Or perhaps her and her fake persona had. She didn't want any extra attention right now. That was what had driven her from her old school. Whether it was girls who thought they could get into the business just by knowing her, or guys who hounded her since she became legal, hoping to put their name up next to hers on the cherry board. And being constantly called Risette only made it worse. It only reminded her of the reason the agency would tell her not to do it, as if she needed a reason she hated on top of her own personal reasons.

She didn't know why she thought changing schools would really change anything. She couldn't take it anymore. The faces that haunted her, the voices that hounded her. She hated them all. She just wanted to get away. And now that she had, she was back where she started. In a new school, full of new faces and voices she would learn to hate.

"Hey!"

Rise Kujikawa startled at the sudden loud voice in the din of whispers. Her head turned to see a familiar head of near-luminescent ginger hair, with big and cumbersome glasses covering the girl's eyes. "Hi." It was more than a little strange. No one had really tried to bother her for a while after her less than warm introductions at the beginning of the week. The whispers were that she was a stuck-up bitch with an ego who thought she was better than everyone else because she was famous. It was a rumour that would solidify given time, but the more ambitious of her peers would end up ignoring her reputation for the sake of getting what they wanted from her. Was that what this girl was doing?

"I, um, I wanted to introduce myself!" The girl, Futaba Sakura, seemed to have her confidence shake from Rise's perspective. "I'm... Futaba Sakura!" she jutted her hand out straight like a robot, presenting it for a handshake. "N-nice to meet you!"

Internally, Futaba felt herself panic just a little. She had talked a big game about getting to know Rise, winning her over. At the time she thought it'd be easy. After all, she had done it a bunch of times with the phantom thieves and... And people at stores when she went to buy things. But only in this moment did she realise how different those situations were from this. With the phantom thieves, it had started with her asking for help through as much distance as she could manage. By the time she actually met and spoke to them properly, they knew just about all of her darkest secrets. And shopping? Shopping was all a show of politeness. When you got past the smiles and politeness it was about the same as an online shopping cart. The clerks were all machines programmed to spit out the same questions and confirmations. She could handle that.

But this... In this moment, she was putting herself out there. She was reaching out to someone, literally reaching out (why did she go for a handshake instead of bowing or something, or even nothing at all?!) and asking Rise to accept her. Sight unseen, she was putting herself out there and praying that the other girl wouldn't reject her. Something she only realised in the moment could easily happen. Her pupils dilated. She felt a cold sweat creep down her neck. Her hand began to shake.

And then the whispers.

"What's the weirdo doing? Did she get antsy without a teacher to yell at so started on Risette?"

"I know, right? She's so gross. Gotta wonder what Amamiya sees in her. Maybe she gives great head or something?"

"Whoa, she's with Amamiya?! You'd think a guy like that would have standards."

"I heard he dumped Takamaki last year. Maybe he's just into freaks like Sakura."

With each condemning whisper she shrunk just a little more. Feelings of inadequacy, of being judged as wrong, as bad, dredged up horrible memories. But she wasn't the same person she was in those memories. In two entirely separate lives she had found the strength to tell unimportant people to shove their insults and opinions about her.

Her hand fell to her side and she spun around to face the girls behind her. "No one talked to you so you jerk NPCs can just shut up!" she shouted, her eyes clenched shut. "And her name is Rise!" she added before turning back around, once again thrusting her hand out to shake before she could remember she didn't want to do that.

She was too nervous to even see straight, so she didn't see Rise's soft smile as she took her extended hand. "Nice to meet you, I'm Rise Kujikawa."

Futaba laughed awkwardly, shaking hands stiffly for what might have been just a little too long. "W-Would you like to eat lunch together?"

"I'd like that."

-(-)-

Naoto had been surprised when during the lunch break she saw Futaba and Rise walking together, smiling and talking. She could admit, she had doubts that Futaba would have been able to pull off getting to know Naoto's old friend. At this point in her life and without the benefit of her experience in the TV world, Rise was struggling a great deal, especially with dealing with other people. Doubly so for fans which Futaba clearly was one to some extent. But perhaps that was a mistake Naoto was making far too often, underestimating these phantom thieves.

Well, if Futaba could do so well, Naoto couldn't allow herself to fail either. After all, her intended course of action was the height of simplicity. As she moved through the hallway of the practice building, she thought it might even be fun in its own way despite being quite sad. In a way, it was almost like she was role-playing her first meeting with him all over again.

She slid open the door to the crafts room, seeing a few people hanging around a sewing machine. And there he was in the middle working away at his passion. Two girls watching him work from over his shoulders. Naoto bristled slightly, thinking it was quite rude to so closely watch him like that. Didn't they know that sort of thing could be distracting?

Well, that wasn't her concern. "Excuse my interruption," she spoke, getting the attention of the three, Kanji's eyes finally, truly looking at her for the first time. Even if only for a split second before his attention returned to his work. "I was hoping to have a few moments of Tatsumi's time if he can spare them?"

"Uhh, yeah sure," he stopped the sewing machine long enough to answer. "I've got time."

One of the girls performed a cutesy pout. "Mou, well we'll see you at club after school, okay Kanji?"

"Sure, see you then," he nodded at her.

Naoto stepped aside as the two girls passed, only for one of them to rather blatantly bump her shoulder on the way past along with directing a glare her way.

"If you'll just give me another..." her lost lover murmured as the sewing machine whirred to life once again for another minute. "There!"

Having walked over to him while he was still working, her eye tracked his project as he pulled it away from the machine. A piece of fabric, wool by the looks of it, curved at one end while flat and folded over at the other. Almost like, "A pocket?" she asked.

He blinked and smiled. "Good guess! Yeah, it's for a cardigan Yoshiko asked me to make for her. I can only work on something small like this during lunch period. Still, I'm impressed you got that so–" He looked up at her and realisation visibly dawned. "Ohhh, that makes sense! You're that detective guy! Or," his eyes flicked down a touch and then back up, "Girl."

"My name is Naoto Shirogane. A pleasure to make your acquaintance," she introduced herself with a slight bow, feeling deep nostalgia, even if the situation was rather different to the first time.

"Well, nice to meet you too, Shirogane," he responded. She controlled her expression to not show disappointment. She knew it was irrational. He didn't know her. But still, to be addressed by her family name made it all the more real. "So, what can I do for you?"

"I just hoped to get to know a little more about you, if that's alright."

He laughed nervously. "I'm not in trouble or anything, am I? I mean I'm pretty sure I haven't done anything."

"No, nothing of the sort," she assured him as she sat on the bench next to him. Only as she felt his clothes rustle against hers did she realise she had sat as close as she would if they were together. Embarrassed, she quickly slid a bit further away. "I merely found you to be an interesting person. One whom I would like to get to know better, if you'll permit me."

"Uhh, yeah, I don't have a problem with that," he agreed.

The uncertainty was familiar. Or so it seemed, until the conversation wore on and Naoto began to realise how different it was. Where that uncertainty came from.

It was a strange experience. Asking him questions she felt she would already know the answers to. Only for him to surprise her. Things she knew for a fact about Kanji Tatsumi, from his nature to his hobbies to his attitudes toward certain groups. Some things were slightly off. Those were the bastions of familiarity she had to cling to as so many others were wildly divergent from the man she loved.

A significant change from familiarity was that she was not the only one asking questions. Instead of being on the back foot from her showing interest in him at all, he was an able and comfortable conversation partner. But what made it somewhat painful was it felt almost like he was asking out of politeness, out of a desire for it to be more than a one-sided conversation, rather than a genuine desire to get to know her in turn.

A feeling that came to a head as Kanji ran a hand through his brown hair and said, "Look, Shirogane, I, uhh, I don't want to make any assumptions here. But I figured you should know you're... Not really my type?"

It was like a knife sinking into her flesh. The man she loved, the man she had been in a relationship with for years, telling her she wasn't his type. "I'm sorry, I don't understand."

"Well I don't mean any offense or anything. You seem like a great girl. But that's just it. I tend to prefer partners who are a little more... Androgynous?" He glanced down at her bustline. "Pretty clear you're not that." He could see the hurt on her face. His next words proved it. "I'm really sorry."

"I see..." she allowed as her response. Her true feelings far too complex and muddled to be conveyed in words, to say nothing of the things she couldn't speak of. "I admit that is disappointing. But better to clear such things up early on. If you would still allow it, I would very much like to consider you a friend instead."

The punk that never was breathed a sigh of relief. "I'd like that too."

She wasn't his type. She wasn't his type. Of course she wasn't his type. She knew well Kanji's preferences. It took him some time to figure them out for himself. Their actual sex didn't matter much to him, not as much as the severity of their gender. He liked her because when he met her she looked like a feminine boy. Once her identity was revealed, she was a somewhat masculine girl. They had figured out the kind of people they were and the kind of people they wanted together, muddling through as they could. And by the time they figured it all out, they were more than happy to be that for each other as they had fallen in love.

And this Kanji... Went through precisely none of that with her. She was a woman. A woman comfortable with being a woman even if she preferred masculine clothes. For her Kanji, that was enough. This wasn't her Kanji.

But he could be. All it would take would be to get his memories back. Then he would remember her. He would remember all they had been through together.

That was all she had to do, and then everything would be right again.

-(-)-

Sumire was in quite possibly the best mood of her life. That was not a high bar. Much of her life, much of both of her lives were saddled with self-doubt and insecurity. But today, she felt... Happy. Not just happy. Loved. Maybe it wasn't an idealised version of the emotion. She didn't believe Ren loved her in a relationship sense, though she was glad for the affection shared between them, and for the clear desire he had to see her happy. And Kasumi... Well, what was going on between her and Kasumi was odd, even by this world's standards. Scandalous even. But even so, every time Kasumi held her, every time she kissed her, every time she touched her, it was a message passed from one twin to the other. A message that Sumire was loved, and wanted, and special, and irreplaceable.

And despite the uncomfortable thoughts that rose up, she knew she had to do her part today. She said she would help Ren and so she would.

Chie Satonaka. By all accounts, she was a strange one. Even having not met her, Sumire could only agree. She knew exactly how strenuous it was to take just one athletics club seriously. And yet Satonaka was part of three. Karate, judo and... Well admittedly the third was more of a 'martial arts enthusiasts' sort of thing rather than a real athletics club. But still, three different clubs was a lot to put on the plate of a third year student probably getting ready to sit her entrance exams.

She had tried to talk to a couple of the karate club members about her at lunch but they just kind of paled and muttered something about the 'thousand-limbed dragon'. Thankfully a passing member of the judo club said Satonaka would be attending their practice after school.

As she entered the small secondary gymnasium, Sumire scanned the members. Most were boys, all wearing the same loose-fitting white gi that Sumire was fairly sure was to obscure how they moved somehow. Or something like that. She was far from an expert. All the better since she was here supposedly for the sake of finding an expert.

Finally, her eyes alighted on the girl who must be her target. She matched the photo in Naoto's file. Sandy brown hair, brown eyes, soft features. For someone those boys of the karate club were so scared of, she didn't appear that intimidating. She was short, petite, wore a bright smile. "Excuse me, Satonaka-senpai?"

"Huh?" the girl uttered, looking over to see the bespectacled girl with auburn hair standing nervously at the door. "That's me. Can I help ya?" Her voice was clear, smooth and feminine, once again putting her at odds with the idea Sumire had of her. The noticeable rural accent fit the image better though.

"I hope so." Sumire quickly stepped inside the gym and bowed formally. "My name is Sumire Yoshizawa, a member of the gymnastics club? I was hoping to ask you about martial arts."

"Well ya don't need to hope for that," the girl laughed. "I'd talk just about anybody's ear off about that. What kinda thing are ya wanting to ask me?"

"Well, the thing is, I struggle with gymnastics. My sister, Kasumi? She's way more naturally graceful than I am and I just can't measure up." She winced, feeling herself fall into self-recriminations again. "But!" she forced herself to at least appear more cheerful, "our coach told me I'm just trying to do things that aren't suited for me. That I should stop trying to copy my sister. So I had a thought about a different approach. Maybe if I approached it from a different angle, a different style, then I could find my own style that fits me better. And then I saw my dad watching a martial arts thing on TV and– I'm sorry, am I rambling?"

Chie just laughed lightly. "Maybe a little! But I think I get it. You saw some flashy martial arts and wanted some insight to see if you could use it for gymnastics."

"Yes!" Sumire smiled, relieved. "That's it exactly."

"And you came to me? I'm honoured!"

"Everyone says you know the most about martial arts in the school, Satonaka-senpai. It seemed like you'd be the best person I could go to."

"Well," the judoka/karateka/whatever-else-ka sounded uncertain, "I guess yes and no? I know a lot about martial arts because I'm big into MMA. Do you know about it?"

"That's mixed martial arts, right?" Sumire asked more than answered. "Where different styles fight each other?"

"It used to be in the beginning," Chie half nodded. "But now a lot of fighters use broadly the same style, learning from different styles, taking things that work and discarding what doesn't. That's why I'm in all these clubs. I'm following in my master's footsteps. But," she adopted an apologetic expression, "A lot of the flashy stuff? That'd be in the discard pile."

"So you can't help me," Sumire sighed.

Chie didn't answer right away, taking a moment to think it over. "Nnnnn, yes and no. I can't show you in person a lot of the real flashy stuff since I never learned it. But I can show you where to look if you want examples. And the more standard kata, all about grace, balance and aesthetics? I know those just fine so we can see what works for you and what doesn't." She looked over to the other club members already running through drills. "Hey captain? Can I give training a miss today?"

"Satonaka, you don't even compete," the assumed captain of the club answered, "You can do whatever you want."

"Thanks, yer the best!" The brunette's attention returned to Sumire. "Ya got something to wear with ya?"

"Yes!" she immediately confirmed, adjusting her duffel on her shoulder.

"Okay, go get changed and we can get started."

"Yes!" Sumire rushed off into the women's changing room and quickly changed into her leotard, emerging once again only a minute later.

She... Suddenly understood a bit more about where Chie Satonaka's reputation came from. The girl was diminutive in stature but she was built. Not a bodybuilder. Sumire knew enough to know that few martial arts called for that kind of exaggerated musculature. But there was clear, solidly built and toned muscle shown off ably by her sports bra and spats. At the very least, it was a distinct possibility Satonaka could crush a man's skull between her thighs.

"Ya ready to get started?" Chie asked, hands on her hips, her bright and cheerful disposition a bizarre contrast to the obvious power packed into her frame.

Sumire blinked, nodded slowly, then bowed low. "I'll be in your care, Satonaka-senpai."