Hello loyal readers,
Today we have a love-triangle if you squint, more flashbacks, and the conclusion to our Saena-Misonoi arc. Hope you enjoy!
Please remember to leave a review, an alert, or a fave. It really helps to keep me motivated! They always say that the end of the story is the hardest to write because the momentum has tapered off, and I'd have to agree!
Thanks readers! Love you all!
-x-
CH45
2001. Osaka, Japan
Makoto had assumed that after the thorough tongue-lashing Yamaguchi-senpai had given him, he would've dropped the issue. Now, she was regretting holding the elevator door open for him.
As the silence grew thick between them, she could almost feel Toudou's probing stare from across the elevator. It was just her luck that their particular elevator hadn't seemed to be requested by any of the other 17 floors on the way to the ground level. Perhaps it was because fewer people were going home due to the late time of evening.
"Toudou-kun, please refrain from interrogating your coworkers like some cheesy television detective!" Yamaguchi-senpai had snapped while hauling the dark-haired man away by the ear back to his desk.
Though her sharp-tongued senior was at best a source of social anxiety and at worst a cause for contemplating a career change, Makoto sincerely wished that Yamaguchi-senpai were there beside her now. Almost anything to ward off the inevitable continuation of the previous conversation–
"So, how did you meet him?"
Simultaneously, there seemed to be a rock that plummeted out the bottom of her gut and a string that tightened around her throat.
'Dammit!' She turned to her fellow lawyer slowly, trying to control the frown on her face that had always seemed like a dead giveaway to her frighteningly perceptive colleague. Conjuring her best neutral expression, Makoto began, "I'm not quite sure what you are referring to, Toudou-san. If you could be a little more specific–"
"Your boyfriend," the bespectacled man intoned, tilting his head to the side, his countenance blank. Forget trying to read his expression, Makoto had her hands full trying to hide her incriminating blush.
Leave it to Toudou Susumu to deduct that she had a boyfriend based on a change in her lip-gloss shade!
Unable to refute the accusation any longer – her face aflame – Makoto mumbled out, "At the coffee shop downstairs…"
There was a moment of silence as she tried to look everywhere in the elevator but at her coworker.
Finally, Toudou stated with a coldness that shocked Makoto, "A stranger then? I wouldn't have expected that from you, Nigawa-san."
Instantly, the woman felt her flush return – but in anger this time. She instantly whipped her head to look at him, almost in disbelief that he had said something so… so…!
Infuriated, her mind struggled through a fog of indignation as all she could do was clutch her bag tighter to her chest, causing the hard-sided floppy disc case to crush against her ribs through the leather of her bag. For some reason, all her professional eloquence and mental acumen had instantly vaporized into a puddle of brain mush.
Finally, her mouth managed to mutter, "He's not a stranger."
She turned to look back at the floor, seething. From a small, cognizant island of her mind, she knew that the scowl on her brow was deeper than it had been in quite a while.
Toudou's remark had felt particularly mean-spirited because it was so… unexpected. Though extremely logical and as sharp as a knife at work, Susumu had a gentle undercurrent to him that few people bothered to see. He had brought her dinner on more than one occasion when she'd stayed late at the office working.
She was even sure that during a busy season at the company a year ago, he'd taken several binders worth of work off her desk and done them himself. She hadn't known who'd taken pity on her and had assumed it was Yamaguchi-senpai until she'd found the binders on his desk only a few months ago.
She had considered Toudou at least an ally in the workplace, if not a close acquaintance – but now…
The dark-haired woman sensed some shuffling in his corner of the elevator. She glanced at him irritably.
Toudou was fidgeting with his glasses. She knew he only did that when he was extremely uncomfortable. A nervous tic she wasn't sure he was even aware of.
Then the man sighed. He continued to examine the floor of the elevator, a frown on his face. Toudou finally spoke, his voice full of genuine regret, "I apologize, Nigawa-san. That was rude of me. I just…"
The elevator dinged as it reached the bottom floor.
Swallowing hard and ready to be rid of the unbearable atmosphere in the elevator, Makoto quickly made to exit through the opening double doors. Interrupting her colleague and not meaning a single word, she hastily bit out, "Good-bye Toudou-san. Have a good evening."
She was three steps out of the elevator when she felt a hand on her shoulder.
"Nigawa-san–" Toudou quickly dropped his hand from her shoulder as she turned. She faced him more out of social obligation than anything else, but she was surprised as her normally stoic coworker frowned, clearly in turmoil. He trailed off, "I…"
Anger forgotten, Makoto could only look back at him, baffled. The calm and collected, logical-to-a-fault Toudou was acting so out of character. He stood in silence, looking at his hand, eyes narrowed as if the appendage had betrayed him. As if he'd let something precious slip through his fingers and drop to the ground.
They stood off to the side as several businessmen and women in a blur of black trench coats trickled past them on their way home.
He was silent for so long, Makoto couldn't help but prompt, "Toudou-san…?"
After a bit, Toudou just sighed. He shot her a gentle smile as he brushed past her. "Never mind, Nigawa-san. I apologize again for my rudeness. See you tomorrow."
And then he was gone.
Makoto frowned, clutching her bag as she watched her coworker leave, swept up in the conveyor belt of monochrome Japanese businessmen walking down the sidewalk. Feeling confused, she herself exited the building's glass doors and turned the other way to walk home.
As she trudged through the January cold, her breath turned into clouds of fog before her face. It was one of those walks, one of those quiet winter days, where thinking was unavoidable, the thoughts too loud to silence.
The foremost thought on her mind: Why had she gotten so angry at Toudou?
If she were being honest with herself, his comment could have been relatively benign. Given her previous interactions with him, there was a possibility he hadn't meant it as an insult. Her anger had been out of proportion.
If she were being honest with herself…she was projecting. Deep down, she was afraid.
She had never dated. Ever. In high school, college, and law school – the boys were always too put off by her blunt speech and inability to express her emotions. Misonoi Kazushi was her first boyfriend, and he was everything Makoto could have hoped for in a boyfriend. Gentle, supportive, intelligent, witty, understanding – but weren't they moving awfully fast?
Not that she knew what was appropriate, and what wasn't – but after just two months of seeing him, he was regularly spending the night… among other things...
Nigawa Makoto had never lived daringly. Her whole life had been charted out for her, and she had followed it unthinkingly, like a train along its tracks. This first rebellion – a whirlwind romance – was thrilling… but also equally terrifying.
And honestly, sometimes she wondered about him. If she were being logical, like Toudou said, they were essentially strangers. Despite their fast affinity, had she even gotten to know Kazushi at all?
Actually, if she were to look past the fog of emotions and endorphins, she could pick up strange beats in their conversations.
Talk of his parents, his background, places he'd lived, places he'd traveled – the conversations would all cut off abruptly. He would realize he had forgotten the miso soup on the stove or that the waiter hadn't brought her water or that he had to sleep early to make it to his part-time job's early shift the next morning.
In truth… how much did she really know about Misonoi Kazushi?
And after his bizarre actions yesterday night…
An uneasy curl of suspicion wormed its way through Makoto's stomach. The sickening sense of dread was made infinitely worse by her discovery yesterday. The evidence of her finding lay in her apartment's dumpster – tossed out with the bathroom garbage in a fit of nervous fright.
The dread, the suspicion, and the anger at herself for feeling such mistrust toward someone who had only shown her kindness and love – had all boiled over into anger at Toudou for even tangentially voicing aloud the things that she feared the most.
As she took the stairs up to her apartment, slowly, unsure, and unlocked the door, Makoto saw Kazushi's coat on the rack. She glanced down. His shoes were gone though.
He had left a note on the side table by the door: "Mako-chan – Ran to the convenience store for some ingredients I forgot. Be back soon! I have a surprise for you tonight! I hope you'll like it!"
Almost hesitantly, Makoto looked up at the dark coat hanging innocently on its hook. She swallowed nervously.
How much did she really know about Misonoi Kazushi?
Well, she knew where she'd start looking.
—x—
Present Day
Saena paused, and Ren blinked, so engrossed in the story that he felt physically jerked back to reality. Eyes to the floor, she suddenly asked, "Do you know about the Okinoshima Incident?"
"How could I not?" Slightly confused at the sudden shift in narrative, Ren neatly listed off the facts he knew. "Largest international military incident for Japan since World War II. Suspected North Korean ships off the coast of Okinoshima Island were boarded by the Japanese Self Defense Force in Japanese waters. It was supposed to be an intimidation tactic, to send them packing back to North Korea. But, one of the North Koreans fired at the Japanese soldiers. The Japanese soldiers, who were supposed to be using non-lethal baton rounds, were actually using illegal hollow-point bullets. It was a massacre. The bullets were traced back to the Hashimoto Munitions Company in Osaka…" Ren froze. He looked sharply at Saena. "No… He didn't..."
Saena just looked at her hands, empty. Her voice was strained. "I had brought the documents for the munitions shipment home to authorize them. I was supposed to ensure the ammunition didn't violate any international treaties. I was given the authority to finalize and change the order if need-be…"
"You were the scapegoat... Hashimoto Munitions' lawyer – you were the one the media – the courts –" Aghast, Ren finished the leap in logic. "He framed you for treason and murder."
"That night… I found a ring in his pocket." Her voice sounded weary and aged, as if she'd spent a lifetime and a half going over it in her mind. A looping treadmill of regret from which there was no escape. "I ignored my suspicions, because I wanted to believe in him. I wanted to trust him."
Moisture glistening in the corners of her lids, Saena closed her eyes, the frown etched deeply on her brow.
"I was a fool."
—x—
It would be tonight, Kazushi decided, blowing warm air into his hands against the frigid cold and pulling the muffler farther up his face. He had contacted Agent Bakemono earlier that day – not with any details, just to request he be at the ready. 'Baka-mono' as Kazushi playfully called him, was outrageous at times, but his old mentor and occasional partner was a fearsomely competent agent and an infinitely loyal friend.
If anyone could help get him and Saena out of Japan, it would be Bakemono.
Rubbing his hands up and down his upper arms as he sprinted up the last few steps to the second floor of the apartment building, Kazushi fumbled with the keys, wishing he'd brought his jacket after all. He thought that his hat and muffler would've been enough, but he'd misjudged the sudden January cold snap.
Frigid fingers finally managing to settle the right key in the lock, the agent froze.
His gut-sense, the one that the PSIA had honed to a dagger's edge over the years, sent a tingle from the nape of his neck down his spine. It was the feeling of being watched.
Kazushi spun around, eyes expertly scanning the surroundings – flitting above rooftops, over the windows of nearby apartments, through trees, across sidewalks, and into the dark crannies of alleyways.
No light glinted off sniper scopes on the roofs, no glimmer of binoculars shone in the dark windows of unoccupied apartments, no cameras flashed in the alleys, and only the whisper of chilling wind ran through the treetops. There was a twitch of movement at the base of one of the bushes across the street, a rustle of leaves – Kazushi tensed, hand reaching for the weapon concealed in the waistband of his pants.
A black cat slunk out of the brush, blinked sleepily up at the agent, before turning and padding down the sidewalk in search of warmer quarters.
Releasing a chuckling sigh, Kazushi shivered off the foreboding feeling and turned back to the door.
His sense was off, the agent argued to himself as he turned the key in the lock. Living for so long with Makoto was dulling his edge. But of all nights, Kazushi thought with growing determination as he opened the door, he needed to be in top form.
Tonight – if Makoto agreed – they were going to escape.
The door swung open, and he lugged the grocery bag inside with a cheery, "I'm home!"
"Oh! Ah, Misonoi-san! Welcome back," came the muffled reply from the bathroom.
"Sorry to have left for so long," Kazushi called as he settled the groceries on the kitchen counter and came back out to the hallway. His coat was still on the rack, right where he'd left it. "I couldn't find the tempura flour in the grocery store. I think they had moved it to another aisle."
The agent fished around in the right pocket, feeling his heart skip a beat when he couldn't find the ring box, then sighed in relief as he found it on the left.
"Oh? That's unusual," Makoto called from the bathroom door. "I'm almost done washing up. I'll be out soon."
"Don't worry!" Kazushi replied back, flipping open the box and eyeing the ring before closing it with a snap. "We have all the time in the world."
As he cooked, his spatula flying over the frying pan, he tried to suppress the small, murmuring voice of fear in the back of his mind. The voice was doing everything it could to claw its way to the forefront.
She's going to hate me. I've put her life in danger.
'Stop it.'
After she hears the truth, she won't want anything to do with me ever again.
'I'm saving her. She'll come with me.'
I manipulated her. All I am is a liar. A liar and a killer.
'I can change. It's never too late to change.'
I can't change.
'For her, I can.'
"I think you burned the onions, Misonoi-san."
At the sudden auditory intrusion into his pool of thick, swirling thoughts, Kazushi jumped, banging his head on the underside of the stove's exhaust vent.
"AH! M-Mako-chan!" The normally smooth agent stammered. He turned, rubbing the bump forming on the top of his head. "I didn't hear you come out…"
Kazushi trailed off, his words forgotten in a daze. All he could do was stare at her. It wasn't anything particularly special – just Nigawa Makoto toweling off her damp, dark hair with a threadbare towel, dressed in the comfortable black sweatpants and baggy striped sweater that she liked so much. But as she turned to him, the laughter twinkling in her eyes – he knew.
Today, for the first time in a long time, he felt grounded.
He was Misonoi Kazushi. And he was going to tell the truth. He was going to escape, and for her, he was going to change.
"Is Misonoi-san ok?" Makoto was peering up at him, an awkward smile masking the concern on her face. "I don't think I've ever seen you burn food before–"
"Mako-chan. Makoto." Kazushi reached for her hand, ignoring the smoldering mess he'd left on the stove. He licked his lips, his heart thudding in his chest. He was going to make everything right and get her out of this mess. "I have something I need to tell you."
"…O-Ok…" She gazed up at him, her brown eyes raw and searching, excited and vulnerable.
Kazushi breathed in and opened his mouth, secrets on his tongue.
There was a buzzing in his pocket. Kazushi blinked.
His cell phone. His work cell phone.
He instantly felt cold. Hand numb, he let go of Makoto's fingers and pulled the phone out of his pocket.
An undisclosed number flashed on the readout screen.
Kazushi could only hold it in his hand and watch it ring, his heart sinking further and further.
"I should probably take this," he heard his voice saying as he dropped her other hand. "It might be… work…"
He hardly heard her response as he mechanically walked out of the kitchen and out the front door, down the steps of her apartment building to the first floor and around the corner. Every step was a dread.
Slowly, he flipped the phone open and brought it up to his ear.
"You are about to fail your assignment, Agent Izanagi. I would rather you not."
Misonoi's breath escaped him. It felt like a rubber band was being stretched across his chest, every breath a heaving labor. Luckily, years of training and experience kept his voice steady and his response vague. "My apologies, Director Goro, but I'm afraid I don't know what you are talking about–"
"Do you think I'm a fool?" – came the barked response from his PSIA superior. "I know an agent going rogue when I hear one."
Kazushi couldn't get the words out. A million excuses, a million lies lay just out of reach of his panicking mind.
The PSIA had bugged Makoto's apartment. How else could Goro have known? The timing was too perfect.
"I never thought it would've been you," Goro was continuing, his voice low and mockingly mournful. "You were our most promising talent. The PSIA's future. Our country's future! And you'd throw all that away for some woman–"
At the director's disgusted tone, Kazushi felt his fear melt away into anger. He growled into the phone. "She's not just 'some woman'! You're asking me to ruin her life—!"
"Have you forgotten why you're there?" Goro demanded. Kazushi could imagine the middle-aged man's face flushed with anger. "For your country's sake—!"
"Damn this country!" Kazushi retorted sharply, then glanced up at Makoto's closed window before lowering his voice to a furious whisper. "I don't think that this mission is necessary to —"
"'Think?'" The director cut in, his voice as cold as steel. "Agent Izanagi, you are just a tool. A tool doesn't need to think. It just needs to do its job."
The statement was like a slap in the face. Indignation battled with this terrible sinking fear that Goro was right. Kazushi had sworn an oath – had tortured and killed and orchestrated the ruination of so many lives – for this country. The agent couldn't think of anything to say.
The voice on the other end of the phone continued, turning an edge of pleading. "Don't be a fool. You won't be able to get away if you betray us."
"You've made sure I'm very good at hiding," Kazushi managed, his lips dry.
"I didn't want to have to do this, Izanagi…" The gruff voice said curtly, "If you try to reveal your identity and this assignment to her, I have orders to have you both shot and disposed of."
The gut-wrenching prickling feeling was back, creeping up the nape of his neck. They probably had a PSIA assassin watching him as they spoke.
"If you walk out of that apartment without altering the data," Goro continued, "In order to recoup our losses, I have been ordered to arrange Nigawa-san to have an accident so we can access the files and cover our tracks."
"No…"
There was no escape. Not anymore. The ring, the plan, the promise of happiness— all a pipe dream headed straight to nowhere. Kazushi felt empty, disconnected from the horrifying reality that was unavoidably unfolding before him.
Goro continued, growing more reasonable.
"But if you comply and edit the data properly, I promise that though she will take the fall for this, in the end, I'll guarantee that she has a way out."
A weak hope fluttered in his breast. Kazushi demanded, "How."
"Witness protection."
The hope sunk again, despair cresting over him. He whispered, broken, "I'll never be able to see her again."
"Agent," the voice sighed. "That's probably for the best."
Kazushi stayed silent, the anguish growing in his stomach, nearly suffocating, overpowering. A maelstrom of helpless rage and defeat. He would never be able to explain to her... She would wake up thinking that he had betrayed her. Used her. Deserted her.
But what other choice did he have?
-x-
For the second time that night, Makoto slipped the simple black ring box back into Kazushi's jacket pocket. Unable to help herself in her barely suppressed excitement, she felt like a child coming out of a candy store, checking on her purchases, just to make sure her good fortune was more than a figment of her imagination.
This time, she had been brazen enough to try it on, a heavy flush creeping over her cheeks. The small diamond ring had fit perfectly on her finger. Briefly, she wondered when he'd had the chance to get her ring size, then a smile glimmered on her lips as she patted the lump in the pocket with near reverence.
Kazushi had always been very sharp. He had picked up so quickly on her quirks and her humor, her likes and dislikes. Sometimes, she felt like he knew her like the back of his hand.
He would make a good husband, she thought to herself, a giddy smile crossing her face as her heart raced. Then her smile faded.
If he was going to propose tonight, then… then she ought to tell him the news on her end. How would he react?
Worry clouding her awareness, Makoto started, nearly jumping in the air when she heard the key scraping into the lock as her boyfriend returned. Afraid of ruining Kazushi's surprise, she rushed back to her computer, clumsily pretending to work.
The door opened, and a cold gust of air blew in, before the front door closed slowly, silently. Makoto turned, hiding her smile, half expecting herself to have been caught.
"Mi-Misonoi-san! I-I was just–" Then she stopped short.
His face was pale, gaunt. His eyes hid behind the harsh reflection off his glasses, fogged in the sudden warmth of the apartment. His shoulders hung, limp and defeated.
"Misonoi-san…?" Makoto stood and walked forward, hesitantly. She had this strange sense as if any sudden sound or movement would cause him to bolt out of the apartment. "Is everything ok at work? Did something happen?"
He was only silent, still. Concern growing a leaden weight in her stomach, Makoto reached for his hands. They were ice cold.
"Your hands are freezing," she noted, trying to rub some warmth into them. She tilted her head to try and catch his eye. Behind his glasses, he only stared at the floor, his sight blank and unresponsive. The frown on her brow furrowed into place. "Do you want any hot soup to drink? I could make you–"
Kazushi blinked, and like a switch being flipped, he seemed to come to awareness. He looked down, taking his glasses off his nose and cleaning them on his shirt. Smiling sadly, he said almost to himself, "How about I just make some tea?"
With a small squeeze, he dropped her hands and went into the kitchen.
Now her hands felt cold.
Trying to discard the uneasy feeling building in the pit of her stomach, Makoto settled herself by the kotatsu, and when Kazushi emerged from the kitchen carrying a small tray with two teacups, she tried to call out to him in a playful voice, "So what did you need to tell me?"
Her smile felt fake on her face.
Still avoiding her eyes, Kazushi set a teacup down on the kotatsu in front of her. "I… I got called into work tonight. It was unexpected, so I'll probably have to leave soon."
Makoto looked down at the tea. The steam curled invitingly.
Something felt terribly, horribly wrong. Like a cog in the universe had jittered and clogged the clockwork. A feeling like the sense that she had missed something or forgotten something important tickled at the back of her mind.
"What was the surprise you wrote about in your note?" She tried to make her voice sound casual. For some reason, she was afraid to look up at him.
"I'm sorry, Mako-chan…" He replied haltingly. "It will have to wait until later."
Her fingers reached for the cup, then hesitated. But she steeled herself. What was this unwarranted paranoia? She had decided to trust him after all. Maybe she was just sad that the surprise – maybe a proposal, if she was so arrogant to assume – was being postponed.
Picking up the cup, the ceramic warmed her fingers. She puckered her lips to blow at the surface. Makoto brought the teacup up to drink.
Then there was a hand on her cheek, causing her to pause and glance up.
"Makoto… I…" There was a mist in Kazushi's brown eyes that was gone as soon as she'd spotted it. A melancholy emotion ghosted across his expression so quickly that she barely had time to register it, replaced by a cheery smile. "I just wanted to say, I love you."
She blinked at him, confused, before a slow smile came over her face. "I love you too, Misonoi-san."
She drank the tea. Oolong with two spoonfuls of sugar – just how she liked it. But the end tasted bitter.
It was rare that Kazushi burned the tea, Makoto noted as she settled the cup back onto the table. It was rare… that… he…
What had she been thinking about again? She couldn't remember. She was forgetting something, but… couldn't remember what she had forgotten…
The steam from the ceramic cup curled up and disappeared into the air, hypnotic.
Eyelids heavy, Makoto felt the world drifting away. But she was forgetting something… Wasn't she?
As her eyelids closed, infinitely heavy and dragging, she felt a warm hand running gentle fingers down her cheek and across her forehead. The caress was slow and tender, as if memorizing her features.
From far, far away, she heard him whisper, "I love you, Makoto... Good-bye."
Her last, fleeting thought, spinning just out of the grasping reach of her mind, was that she remembered. She had meant to tell him tonight. She had taken a second test, just to confirm the results from the first one. It was on the bathroom counter, awaiting its reveal.
The test was positive.
Oh well…
She could tell him tomorrow…
When he was done with work…
-x-
Present Day
As Misonoi finished, the auditorium's air hung heavy with morose silence.
Kyoko had no words. She could only sit, stunned, staring sightlessly at the tiled floor, brain trying desperately to process everything she'd been told.
Her mother… Her father… The PSIA – the very organization that had brought so much joy and purpose into her life—was responsible in large part for ruining it from the very start.
"Do you blame me?" Misonoi asked abruptly from beside her.
Startled from her reverie, Kyoko looked up. Misonoi was sitting, hands in his lap, eyes not meeting hers. A broken, wry smile settled onto his lips. The words came stiffly. "With that altered data, your mother went on to be blamed for the shooting of fifty-two North Korean civilians at the hands of the JSDF. The judge called her maliciously negligent. The government called her a treasonous criminal. The media called her a monster."
Swallowing the lump in her throat and unsure how to answer, Kyoko managed to return the question. "Do you blame yourself?"
Misonoi frowned at that, shifting to stare down at his hands open in his lap. "I used to… Until…"
His hands tightened into fists. "Until Rick… And then I realized who was really at fault."
Confused, Kyoko had about five different questions on the tip of her tongue, but was interrupted as her father stood suddenly and turned to face her, his dark coat swirling behind him. He looked down at her, a mixture of determination and excitement dancing across his features.
"But, that's all in the past. The government that ripped our family apart is within my grasp," the mastermind announced, confidence sweeping back his earlier melancholy. His eyes shone with conviction behind his wire-rimmed glasses. "No one will ever have to endure what your mother has – or what you have – because of the government. I can change it for the better. Forever."
Kyoko felt frozen to her seat, mind and heart in conflict. The dreadful discordance only worsened when Delta locked eyes with her and offered his hand, palm open in invitation.
"We can change it. Together! Father and daughter," Delta proclaimed, almost child-like in his giddy enthusiasm as he grinned down at her. "Will you help me, Kyoko?"
0:06 until revote
-x-
Japanese Notes:
Toudou Susumu – This is actually Toudou's real name! I think previously, I had noted that his name was "Sho" – but the continuation of that small side story I'd gotten this information from had actually continued to say that he'd told Kyoko that when she was young as a lie because he knew she was so infatuated with Shoutaro. "Susumu" is his listed name on the official Skip Beat Wiki. But… just makes me think, what a poor, sad childhood this guy would've had with a first name like "Susumu"… TL;DR: I'm retconning Toudou's first name in this fic!
Izanagi – The husband of the deity couple who gave "birth" to Japan. In the legend, Izanagi's wife, Izanami, dies and he tries to rescue her unsuccessfully from the Underworld.
Bakemono – translates to "Monster"; Kazushi's nickname for him is a play-on words as "Baka" means dummy and "mono" can mean "thing".
Japanese Self-Defense Force – The military force of Japan. After WWII, Japan called it a "self-defense" force because Japan didn't want to be perceived as a belligerent, war-mongering country.
-x-
MAILBAG
ktoll9 – Thanks for leaving reviews! I'm happy you've been enjoying the story so far! And I totally think Reino and Maria would get along really well in canon lol
|MissMysterious| - Thanks! Glad you enjoy it! (I spent like a minute trying to figure out how to type your username with the vertical line thingys! Haha, should've just copied and pasted in retrospect xD)
brennakai – Yeah! I'm happy you picked up on that. I thought it'd be interesting to have the story told in parallel like this. Thanks again for reviewing!
Lillyannp – Muhahaha, cliffhangers! Cliffhangers everywhere! Well, cliffhangers and hopefully the feels :3 Glad the emotional conflict is coming across!
A Musing Brunette – Thanks for reading from the beginning! That's something I've been trying to do as well so that I make sure I tie up all the loose ends. It makes me happy that even though you're busy, you still find time to review! Appreciate it! As for the manga, I think that the drama has come to a head in the most recent chapter. Dude, Ren and Kyoko's expressions were so heart-wrenching. I really want her to defend herself and not run away from Ren's accusations. Ugh… Nakamura-sensei, pleaaaaaase just put us out of our misery!
Guineapigs1 – Hehehe, is Delta bad? Or just misunderstood? I feel like all the best villains aren't just mustache-twirling, cackling men in top hats and black cloaks. They're either super crazy and amoral (Joker from Batman) or endowed with realistic motivations that have just led them down a dark path (Haku and Zabuza from Naruto). It's such an encouragement as a writer to see someone in my audience experiencing the doubts and emotional twists that I had planned from long ago. :3 Thanks for reviewing Guineapigs1!
H-Nala – Hehehe have you made up your mind yet about Delta? He's just given Kyoko an ultimatum though… What will he do if she happens to turn him down, I wonder…. ;)
MWEH – Where you at, girl? Lol, hope life's been treating you ok! If I see you comment soon, I'll try to update with a response.
Again, don't forget to leave a review, an alert, or a fave! It really does help keep me motivated to continue providing quality writing for you guys! Love ya all!