6: Home, Setagaya
Home, Hachioji
Fret gently pushed open the door to his apartment, or tried to – the damn thing's hinges liked to go on the fritz often, so failing the gentle approach he leaned hard on it, nearly falling face-first onto the pile of mail that had slid through the letterbox. 'Vote Shamin-tō!' pamphlets, some local takeaways doing some pretty sweet offers he had half a mind to take them up on and… a white card, crafted as a bookmark would be. 'For Day Four. 13.00. SHIBUYA STREAM. You will be there. This is just a formality. And a warning. Apologies in advance.' Whatever this was, it creeped Fret out. He thought it may have been some street art project, just with some bizarre guerilla marketing, based on the graffiti skull, heavily stylised, with the equally stylised 'X' adorning the base of it. Fret walked down the corridor that connected the main rooms of the residence, finding at the end a note on his door, alongside all the brand-name stickers he'd plastered on there to make the place feel more like home after the move. It was probably the usual, he thought, tearing it off the Hip-Snake logo.
'Tosai – will be out late tonight. There's some food in the fridge you can heat up if you want, or there's some yen if you're going to go out again with your friends like you love doing recently. Say hi to Rindo and that polite blonde boy who brought you home last time for me! Love you ^v^"
Fret took the note off the door and sighed. It's not that he resented his mother or anything, he just wished that he had more contact with her throughout the day. Her phone never seemed to be turned on and he wanted anything other than just notes. He opened the door to his room and set his keys down on his desk. Everything was in order. Wardrobe filled with a few too many clothes was still there, laptop that remained permanently on was whirring away, Def Märch posters still slightly worn out (when were they gonna release new official ones? It had been months since that new album drop…) and corkboard of pins – psychless, alas – still set against the light blue of his walls. He threw himself head-first onto the white-and-grey striped sheets of his bed and felt his back ache for a few seconds before feeling comfortable enough to lie and stare at the ceiling. He pulled his phone from his pocket, pulled up his contacts and pressed dial.
The feeling of something vibrating underneath her chest caused Nagi's blurred vision to stabilise. Until then, she had been phasing in and out of consciousness as blood dripped from her palm onto the grey carpet below and she sweat freezing bullets onto the bed, deep in concentration, trying to force herself to stay awake. "Goodness…" she croaked out, groggily waiting for the world to cease spinning and grabbing the phone, absent-mindedly, with her still-bloody hand. She grimaced, but answered it.
"Fret?" The voice that came from the other line was little more than an exhausted sounding squeak, causing Fret to wince slightly. She was in an even worse state than this morning, worryingly.
"H-Hey, boss…" he replied back. "You alright…?"
"A spell of exhaustion has visited itself upon me. I must needs push onwards through it for now." The croaks that punctuated her tone betrayed the fact that she'd been crying. Fret suddenly felt awful again.
"…right. So, um, about this morning? I just wanted to apologise for… everything. Apart from the, uh, EleStra bits. They were fun."
"Oh, of course. Apology…" a yawn. "Accepted, Lord Tosai. Farewell." She spoke with unnatural urgency, causing Fret to panic.
"Wait! Waitwaitwait! Nagi, please, you already know what I'm gonna ask next and I need you to answer honestly. Don't make me say it. As a friend." The line was silent for a few seconds, during which Fret could only hear his heartbeat.
"U-Understood. Sorry, you're correct. I should not keep hiding this…"
"Thank you."
"So, truth be told the root of my suffering the last few days has been…" Nagi breathed in. This was her chance. To gain Fret's trust back and salvage the friendship she feared she'd lost, but… she couldn't say it. It caught in her throat, crushing down on her chest like an impossible weight. She felt trapped, as she did before Fret had rung, but this was acutely worse. She tried to explain everything. The nightmares, the voice ringing in her ears, but it wouldn't come out. Instead, she felt like hands rubbed up and down her skin, making her writhe and seize up. They were cold, but it wasn't like when Fret had grabbed her hand. They were arctic and unfamiliar, glacial taps from strangers and they were so, so uncomfortable. It was always like this with strangers, but this time she couldn't ask them to stop. Instead all she could do was produce a series of noises that sounded somewhere between a choke and a sob.
"…boss? What's going on? Hey! Are you still there?" Every word that came out of Fret's mouth on the other end was growing more and more frenzied. She felt even worse about panicking him and wished she could console his fears, but all she could do was shut her eyes and pray for this waking nightmare to be over. A breath from the other end of the line. "I get it." He sounded defeated. No… was he going to leave again? "You probably can't tell me because you're scared, huh?" Defeat transformed into understanding and Nagi felt her worry diminish slightly. "But… you can still show me, I think. Why all this is happening. Why you sound like you're, uh, freaking out. Can't you?" Slowly, the cold grasp of the phantom hands began to loosen. "I mean, sure we're 'incompatible' or whatever it is you call it but… there's still a chance you'd let me see whatever it is that's bothering you and… I'd rather take that chance than not so… please. As a friend. That's all I ask." The weight removed itself from Nagi's chest and, while weak, she found herself able to talk once more. "Come… to Tokyo Met. I shall…" she caught her breath. "Prepare a visitor's card for you. And a futon. I think… you'll understand after bearing witness to my situation."
"Ooh, a sleepover?" Fret chuckled before stopping himself. "…Sorry. Not appropriate."
"No, it…" Nagi thought back to the excitement that tinged that joking remark and found herself chuckling a bit too. "It's okay. Thank you, To– Fret." She pressed the end call button and rose from her bed, drenched in sweat and with small drops of blood strewn about its right side. She knew she would probably have to clean up her room before Fret arrived, but the first order of business would be to bandage the cuts on her hand.
_16:21_
Fret: Hi mother
Will be staying at a friends
tonight
Text me when you see this
Love you :)
Fret grabbed a garagara-brand satchel, his keys (again) and everything he had just set down, plus the yen off the kitchen counter his mother had left for him and… something for later. He silently thanked her in his head, before moving to step out the door but… had he forgotten something? Oh yeah, the white card. Wait, the white card? Why did he feel the need to bring that, he questioned, slipping it into his pocket. Something about the message's ominous aura caused him to almost see it as a challenge, as if taking it with him would be proof whatever fate this slip of paper had predicted for him would not come to pass. Closing the door behind him, and making his way out of the building, Tosai looked back and gazed around at the high-rise he'd called his home for the past two years. He felt a barren wind whip at him, carrying with it no noise and no mirth. Setagaya wasn't like Shibuya. In Shibuya, Fret felt free, liberated; an outgoing and sociable youth anyone found easy to talk to. Here, home, the mask fell away and the world quieted for a while. Fret hated the quiet. It meant being alone with his thoughts. One evening, after spending time at a concert with Beat, easily the loudest and most extreme personality of the Twisters, Fret returned home with him and said goodbye to him at the door. Upon entering the house, he'd realised he'd dropped a pin they'd bought that day and quickly searched the high-rise. When he'd finally found it, a floor down from his own, he looked out of the windows present at the end of each of the corridors of the building's floors and felt discontent welling up within him. The sky above was grey, but blue tinged the clouds and turned their edges a pale cerulean. Streetlights were just beginning to cast their warm, amber glow onto the pavement beneath them, and in front of him the city loomed, ever-present but just out of reach. Cars rushed past, a million people in a hurry to do so many different things, heading to the cityscape ahead, just beginning to glow with colour, a painting being filled with colour, the beginning of a contrast between light and dark that repeated itself whenever the sun set over Tokyo. But it felt so silent, so empty, when he stood behind that pane of glass. It scared him. He wondered if there was a way to bring the feeling of freedom Shibuya so embodied home with him, to feel comfortable with himself no matter where he went. He carried these thoughts with him as he stepped onto the train.
Delays on the line, alongside a small diversion to Shibuya, had caused Fret to ride the train for nearly two hours, much to his chagrin. The sun was setting and night was beginning to sweep over the city. Being out at dark in Shibuya was exciting and full of possibility. Outside of it, it was just miserable.
_18:38_
Fret: Yo so uh
How do I get to yours
again?
Nagi: Oh, right. My precise
location would be in the
new TMU housing district.
[She provided a link to the
dormitory building she was
living in, a quaint-looking
place. Fret input
the postcode.]
There is a small residence
office, staffed until 8 pm,
just outside the gates of the
housing grounds. They will
provide you with your
visitor's card.
Fret: Ooh fancy security
Do I have that to look forward
to when I head to university
Nagi: You plan on heading to
university?
Fret stopped walking for a second. He had said that as a joke but, the more he dwelt on in, the more memories it brought back.
_18:41_
Fret: I mean uh
Maybe?
I had a promise once with
a friend
THAT friend
It doesn't matter much
anymore
Nagi: Say no more. I grasp
the situation completely.
And, for what it's worth, I
don't think that bad
memories should close your
future off from you.
If, indeed, you choose to
make those memories an
obstacle to begin with.
Fret: Yeah I just dunno
Would kinda be hard to
graduate without feeling
down he wasn't there with
me
Would feel like someone
was missing yknow
Nagi: I can certainly
sympathise with your plight.
But, for what it's worth, and
considering as it stands my
course is four years long due
to a year spent in the auspices
of foreign academia, if you
were to take a more standard
three-year course then…
I would be glad to be by your
side when the time to see it
done with drew close.
Provided of course you do not
further pursue a postgraduate
degree or the like or choose
to attend another institution.
Fret: Wow
Uh
Thats sure something you
just said
I
Guess ill give it some thought?
Nagi: Of course. Only you can
decide the path you take in life.
But if needs must, I shall partake
in that path, as I would with any
other friend I have made within
these university halls, and outside
them.
Fret: Well
Awesome
I guess
Im kinda just speechless
But
In text form
You must be pretty proud of
yourself for that one huh
See you in 20 mins
Fret quickly switched off his phone and, though no-one would see it, pulled his scarf around his cheeks to hide his blushing. Only Rindo – and Neku, more recently – had the propensity to make him blush this way, very rarely, for offering him emotions so genuine and tangible always came with embarrassment. And shame.
Fret approached the location Nagi had sent him. Bright, white lights were visible through a large, very sturdy looking black-bar gate, illuminating a series of blocky, yet spacious seeming, red-brick buildings. In fact, the area that surrounded the gate was also red-brick, with black slate sloping downwards – windows interspersed – giving the impression of being a building with a far too large roof. A plaque next to the gate read 'TMU – Domestic Students' Housing: Natsume Cluster. Celebrating the great author Sōseki Natsume through a mixture of red-brick style English architecture and Japanese tradition. Est. 20XX.'
"Thought that guy hated England…" Fret murmured, casting his mind back to about 5 years past and his study of Botchan. It was one of the few books throughout school that he'd ever actually read in full and appreciated. He pushed open the door to the housing office, attached to that great sloping roof, and loitered around the front desk, waiting for someone to arrive. The scent of floral damp, that dull fluorescent buzz, the way everything seemed dampened and muted, literally everything in sight being made of some form of varnished birch – from the desk, to the chairs that lined the walls, also wood, but painted black and with many large windows (probably also birch, but cleverly disguised to hide the fact this place was spending ninety percent of its budget on wood)… this, he felt, embodied the quintessence of the words 'housing office'. Minus the words 'LAUNDRY ROOM' and 'MAIN HALL' painted on the walls every few metres. Maybe that's what the windows on that weird slope were for? Eventually, after quite some time, a tired-looking young woman emerged from behind a (you guessed it) birch door, and sat down on her… spinny-chair-thingy, as Fret liked to call them. Notably not birch, but a grey plastic. Her name tag identified her as Yumiko Aritomo and when she spoke she spoke she did through stifled yawns. "Reason for visiting the housing office this evening?"
"Um… I'm visiting a student here."
"Name?"
"Tosai Furesawa."
"Oh, you must be Fret." She leaned downwards and rummaged around underneath the desk, finally producing a clipboard. "Standard clerical stuff, name, relation to student, et cetera and so on – just making sure you are who you say you are." Fret peered down at the sheet in front of him before being handed a pen. He filled out his name and address alongside…
"Uh… Attach deposit here?"
"Oh, right, there's a one-thousand yen deposit on every visitor card we introduced recently. If the card isn't returned within forty-eight hours then the deposit will be kept by the university."
"Um… okay…" Fret fished out a thousand-yen note and attached it to the sheet of paper via the paperclip, so kindly provided by the university. He read through the list of 'relations to', including parent, child, sibling, relative, spouse, partner, friend and so on, thought about putting 'parent' as a joke for a second, decided against it, ticked 'friend' and handed it back.
"Okay… Give me a minute here." Aritomo tapped at her keyboard, pulling up a file labelled 'VISITOR REQUEST – USUI NAGI' and scanned between the pieces of paper and the screen, before nodding. Fret was also staring at the screen, attempting to be conspicuous but decidedly being not-so and stifled a giggle at the fact boss had rendered his name 'Tosai "Fret" Furesawa' on the form.
"Everything seems above board Mr. Furesawa. Enjoy your visit and please return the card by…" She stared at the clock, which naturally had a frame wreathed in birch, "quarter-past seven in two days' time." She slid a plain white keycard with the words 'FOR VISITOR USE ONLY' printed on it, attached to a royal-purple lanyard with the words 'VISITOR' written in white around it. It was nice to know his visitor status would be conspicuous, then. He stepped out the office, back into the brisk night air, and swiped his card through the reader attached to the gate. It flashed green and Fret sheepishly pushed open the gate, holding it for other students who were exiting to Tokyo proper.
The grounds around Nagi's housing were very well kept. Small gardens, evocative of the imagery he'd seen in samurai flicks, with their circular-stone patterns and bamboo stalks lined the paths leading to and from each housing building. Every so often a steep, man-made hill would give rise to an odd, square-shaped glass building with a spire for a roof. These seemed to be security offices, but their panopticon-like construction made him feel unnerved rather than secure. Alongside the corrugated iron fences and too-bright lights he'd seen on the way in, this place seemed to be Thatcherite England (though he had no idea how he knew what that looked like) meets zen garden meets Soviet mining town (again, he had no clue how he knew what that looked like). But upon reminding himself that this was where Nagi lived, he began to feel more comfortable. What was the building she was staying in again? He checked his texts.
_18:47_
Nagi: I shall meet you then.
Building 08, second floor.
Do not forget.
_19:19_
Nagi: I saw you just read
my text as of now. You
forgot, didn't you?
Fret: Maybe?
Fret walked up the black metal stairs that looped around the outside of the housing building, having finally located it after milling around for five minutes, making his way to the specified floor. He pushed open the door, or would've if it didn't seem to be a pull door… which it wasn't. He continued this pull/push charade for about half a minute before it miraculously opened before him.
"It's locked." Nagi informed him, looking unamused behind her glasses.
"Oh…" Fret stepped into the hallway, feeling thankful for the blast of heat that hit him when he did. "So, how long were you watching me do that for?"
"For as long as I saw necessary."
"The whole time?" Nagi twisted her key into the lock of an impressively tall grey door and ushered him in.
"Indeed."
"Ouch," Fret remarked, surveying the room that was slightly more spacious than what he had envisioned in his head, "Cold." On its white walls were swathes of posters – both the obvious EleStra ones and myriad others, including a few he recognised. "You're a Def Märch fan?"
"Why, yes, I am." She replied, locking the door behind her.
"Remind me to ask Beat to hook you up with some free tickets next time they play." Fret crashed down onto his futon besides Nagi's bed and laid his bag beside it.
"I had no idea he was so well connected. There's a story there, I assume?"
"Not one I've heard yet." Fret noticed something in the corner of the room and rose to approach it. It was a small wooden standing shelf, littered with electric candles and stuffed full of Tomonami merch. Anatomically accurate figurines, small chibi figures (all of which were posed uniquely), what looked to be homemade pins and badges alongside cards, both of the trading and post variety, sticker sheets of various Tomonami-themed emotes – some of which Fret used in-game – and an entire row of fan-works, from professionally bound fanfiction to doujins. However, on its top surface was the centrepiece of this bizarre holy site. Two especially expensive looking figurines flanked a framed photograph of Tomonami's key-art, behind which was what seemed to be either a very convincing plastic or extremely deadly metal blade – the very same one wielded by the deity of this church-in-miniature. Fret reached out to the portrait of Tomonami, seeing a signature, assumedly from the character's voice actor written just illegibly enough to warrant a closer look, before his eardrums were nearly burst.
"Hands off the shrine to His Radiance!" Fret nearly required a small shrine in his name, as his soul felt like it was ascending to Takamagahara to join the kami there. When the abject fear subsided, Fret shied away from the shrine, deciding to keep his distance.
"Sorry, Nagi." He said, unable to be anything but sincere.
"As well you should be. That shrine has laid undisturbed minus my weekly dusting of it for the past two months."
"Right… Go Lord Tomonami…!" That last joke came out more as a nervous laugh as he crept back towards his futon. As he did so, he noticed another framed photo – smaller this time – but on Nagi's desk, right next to a very impressive looking monitor and a few textbooks on her discipline of Social Anthropology. He wandered over to it and inspected it as Nagi tended to her Radiance's shrine. It was a picture of… the three of them. Fret, Nagi, and Rindo all in their goofy Mr. Mew poses from Takeshita street. He couldn't help but smile. Despite the despair they had felt at the time, the Game felt more like a distant nightmare now and it was the memories like this that would mostly strongly define how he chose to remember it.
"You… actually kept this, boss? I mean, I keep my copy in a drawer at home but…" Fret picked it up without objection.
"Yes, well… it means quite a bit to me, I suppose."
"Huh. Even to the point where you framed it?" Fret flipped over the frame out of the view of Nagi and found three words written on it – 'The True Game' (alongside a tiny pen drawing of a smiling cat's face). He set it back down, pretending not to notice.
"Well… it was when I met another kindred spirit in the dark and… my…" She fiddled with her remaining glove "…now truest friend in the light." Her voice seemed to lower at this, as if expecting what was to come – probably some oafish, boisterous remark teasing her that he meant something in her mind. But it never came.
"Heh. Thanks, boss. Been waiting on you to admit that for a while now."
"Whatever do you mean?"
"That even though I'm in that weird light group you like to put people in, I'm still your friend."
"I do not appreciate your admonishment of my system of light and dark, it is a tried-and-tested–" While she was saying this, Fret had quickly approached her and extended an arm, his hand hovering above her shoulder. It had quickly shut her up.
"Am I good to…? Know I didn't ask this morning but normally…"
"Um… I don't see a reason I shouldn't permit it…" Even though she said this, her thoughts were lagging behind her brain, which quickly shot awake as soon as Fret placed an arm on her shoulder.
"Nagi. Boss. I say this with all the respect in the world." He winked. "Shut up. I bought us Justice Burger." He took his hand off and quickly moved away to grab the food out of his bag, leaving Nagi standing there for a second. She'd never been told to shut up quite so nicely. But Justice Burger sounded good.
"So–" Fret began through mouthfuls of a Justice Burger. He was sitting on Nagi's desk, which she hoped wouldn't mean getting any crumbs on there. Maybe she should've let him sit on her 'spinny-chair-thingy'. "–Beat and me, we're in the mosh pit with Neku and this chick approaches Beat and is just… fawning over the guy, like I have never seen someone that thirsty – speaking of, God, this burger is making my mouth a desert, how have you barely drunk anything yet?" Fret took a large sip from the third Superhero Soda he had bought, the one with two straws labelled 'emergency provisions' (Wait, was that written with her pen? When did he find the time to label that?). She hoped he'd leave some for her because this Justice Burger did transform one's mouth into a veritable wasteland as he'd observed – in fact she was in charge of making sure he only drunk from his straw, as she knew he wouldn't regulate that himself. "Anyway, she's just treating Beat like he's some angel from on high and the dude is just…"
"Utterly oblivious?"
"Exactly. Kinda funny actually, she just gave up after a while. Gotta respect the dude, he came to party and he did exactly that and nothing else."
"I think that Daisuke would find a life without romance one with far more merit. He truly marches to the, well, beat of his own drum. And what were you doing during all of this?"
"Ooh, funny story actually – are you gonna finish all that?" Fret gestured to her burger.
"Of course I am going to finish my me–"
"Ahbababababa, I gotcha Boss. Right, so, here." Fret reached a hand out to her keyboard after wiping it free of grease and Justice Residue, still wielding half a burger in one hand. Nagi's PC was already unlocked as their discussions throughout the meal sometimes required one to produce evidence surrounding them. This was no different. "I think if I just look up a video of someone recording in the pit that night…" Fret pulled up a video titled 'LOSING MY FUCKING MIND AT O-EAST' uploaded 8 days ago by maniax2003. It was a blurry, handheld video where an inebriated young man was thrashing his head to the music, with his phone following said head movements. Every so often, presumably when he was about to vomit, the man would stabilise himself and stand still for a minute. It was in one of these instances where Fret, Neku and Beat were present, clearly enjoying themselves; Neku, uncharacteristically, a bit too much. He looked like he was having a seizure at points. "Wait for it…" A loud sound of mic feedback was heard from the stage and seconds later a black blur flew across the phone's camera. "That was the lead dude's microphone. And guess who caught it?" Nagi squinted to see it, but it seemed Fret had caught the mic in his hands somehow and was brandishing it triumphantly. This triumph was short-lived, however, as he was quickly mobbed by the crowd which even an angry Beat yelling profanities at could not stem. The man holding the phone muttered something like "poor boy…" and went back to headbanging for the next however-long. "Never – mm – did get that mic for myself."
"So you wished to show me… you nearly getting stampeded?"
"Uh-huh! Well, no, not the whole possible traumatic injury part, but the idea of the hero rising triumphant before facing swift defeat at the hands of an enemy he couldn't anticipate! …Or something like that. Like that funny style of play you like!"
"That is not the traditional structure of a tragedy…"
"Well it sure sounded that way when you described it to me over call a week and a bit ago!"
"Perhaps my explanation was somewhat lacking." Nagi finished the last bite of her burger, finally feeling full for the first time in what felt like forever, "I win this round of speed-eating by the way," Fret shot her an incredulous glance before she continued, "…and besides. You could've been hurt."
Fret tilted his head. "Okay, the fact that this Justice Burger speed-eat doesn't count aside, I kinda didn't want to depress you with this whole thing."
"No, it's just… Food for thought, is all."
"Well, so long as it's not bothering you…" Fret hopped off the desk. "Greasy fingers. One sec." He started washing his hands in the basin, removed from the ensuite of her room due to it holding space for only a toilet and shower. Nagi held her breath and observed him. She'd replaced her bedsheets and laid the futon over the bloodstains on the carpet, but now she was uncertain if she'd been so thorough with the basin. In the exhaustion of everything, what if she'd forgotten. Time seemed to slow as Fret turned the tap off and moved to dry his hands. Things would fine. Her brain had sorted itself out just in time for Fret to not be caused any undue distress due to her irrationality. This idea was sound. This idea was the truth. This idea was shattered as Fret's eyes widened at something on the side of sink, causing him to pause momentarily, turn pale and then return to drying his hands. "All done!" Even those two words sounded shaky, morphing into less of an exclamation and more a question as they came from his mouth.
"Very good. Now, shall we move onto important matters?"
"You mean…" Fret began to turn an even deeper pale.
"EleStra, yes." Nagi quickly interjected. Seeing Fret in such a state, all due to her, was turning her voice shaky too. She didn't know whether she could keep this up much longer. "But before that…!" She forcefully stated, "I needs must cleanse my body." Nagi grabbed the clothes she usually wore to bed from a drawer in the wardrobe, while Fret awkwardly lowered himself onto his Futon. "I shall be back momentarily." She quickly made her way towards her bathroom, but Fret called out.
"Wait!" Nagi did not turn to look at him.
"Yes, Lord Tosai?"
"I… wanted to return this to you." This time she turned around proper, curious in what it was Fret had. She was forced to think fast and nearly fumbled grabbing the small piece of fabric he had thrown at her… her glove. "I, uh, haven't washed it. Sorry. But it's yours so…"
"Oh. Well, thank you." Nagi smiled and Fret smiled back, the worry in his eyes disappearing slightly. Nagi once again turned to get into the bathroom, but failed to remember the door was a push, quickly slipping into it once she'd realised her blunder.
Despite returning her glove, Fret still felt worried about Nagi. It was this growing fear, a fear of a pattern he'd seen before. Nagi was nothing like him, and yet… He shook his head. That stain on the side of the sink was blood. He knew that for a fact. He recognised its brownish hue almost immediately. There was a very high chance the reason it was there was exactly what he was thinking it was, but he didn't want to admit it. What mattered was, in the past few hours, Nagi had bled more. And it was likely of her own volition. It made Fret feel sick and the air in the room feel stale and cramped. He slid down onto his back and tried to think. There was one defining difference between then and now – him. And he knew that, even if it was a one-off thing, he would try his best to ensure that she felt at least somewhat better about herself. But… that was hard. He didn't even truly know himself, so how could he claim to know someone else to extent of helping them out of this? He stared listlessly at the ceiling, trying to desperately think of an answer. "Hey, Kanon…" the words just came out, even if they were whispered. He wasn't at Spain Hill now. But that didn't matter. "So, that friend I mentioned – or, one of them – I think they're in a bit of a bind… about themselves. But… I don't even know what to say! It's Nagi, by the way. I know you know… knew her, but for some reason my dumb Fret brain likes to keep things vague when I'm getting sappy like this." He laughed nervously under his breath. "God, I am so scared. Dammit… you'd know what to do… why can't you be here?! Why couldn't they let you live a normal life like the rest of us?! I never even got to really know you, what if I'm talking to her the same way in a month's time? What if I never really get to know her either? I hardly even understood you, but…!" Fret stopped whispering before he would start crying, blinking back tears. He never understood Kanon, truly. She passed before that could even begin to happen, but… he still helped her, didn't he? That inconsolable anger she felt at her unjust situation, he had helped quiet that. 'You don't have to understand someone before you can help them. You don't even have to know yourself, Fret. You just have to try, no matter what.' He was surprised his own voice had told himself that. So often it was Neku or Nagi's, whispering into his ear. But now his own voice had a seat among them. He felt calmer now, less panicky and more focused, but still nervous.
A few minutes after his breakdown, Nagi stepped out of the bathroom, somehow looking more casual than usual. Probably the lack of ribbons and the better fitting shirt, which was dark green with black sleeves and trim around the neck – a replica of Tomonami's Nightwear skin. Of course it was. Fret also observed how she kept stumbling over grey pants that were way too big for her. Maybe she'd accidentally ordered Tomonami's size and was now nearly faceplanting into a clotheshorse in the name of His Radiance? Or maybe she just didn't care about what she chose to wear at night, but it was likely the former.
"You know, Boss…"
"Hm? What is it?"
"Your hair kinda reminds me of Shoka's right now. Without the, uh, cat hoodie."
"It's reassuring to see you understand how hair works, Lord Tosai." She said with a nasally laugh, beginning to dry her hair.
"I'm just saying," Fret raised his voice over the sound of the hairdryer and prayed no-one else would hear this next comment because of that, "you look kinda… pretty." He was sure that would garner some extreme reaction from her, but instead she just seemed to not hear him.
"Well… pay no mind to it. Whenever I emerge from the shower my skin is always of a more natural complexion due to the heat." She turned the drier off and spun round on her chair to face him.
"No, I mean like… in general… not just at night, y'know?"
"Whatever do you mean?" Nagi asked, seeming more confused than embarrassed or angry.
"Uh… and I mean this in a like, 'you're my friend who kicks ass' sorta way but… you look good? Like all the time?" Nagi's mouth made a small 'o' and she just stared at him for a while.
"O-Okay." She managed to stammer out before she walked over and climbed into bed, not meeting his gaze. Fret knew that this wasn't exactly confronting the issue head-on. But was battering Nagi with therapist's questions about her emotional state really his style? No, Fret was far less subtle than that. He was just gonna say his mind, honestly this time, and hope that things got smoother from there. If it made things worse, he was gonna keep speaking his mind until they got better. No more false compliments or half-hearted gestures of friendship. His style of comfort was awkward. It wasn't pinpoint precise like Nagi's. It wasn't insightful or thought-provoking like Neku's. But judging from the slight smile she was struggling to hide, it didn't have to be.
"So, EleStra?" Fret asked, leaning up from his futon to meet her gaze. She stared back down at him with tired eyes.
"Oh… well, to tell you the truth, Lord Tosai, I am truly, utterly exhausted." She laughed as she said this. It was as clear and honest as Neku's.
"Oh, I getcha! Well, maybe tomorrow night?"
"You plan to stay another night? Sleeping in your own attire?"
"Eh. I brought a change of clothes with me, but yeah." Fret poked at his bag.
"Oh… well, thank you?"
"Thank you?"
"You'll understand soon enough, Lord Tosai, why I am thanking you." Nagi stopping staring at him and rolled over onto her back.
"Odd way of saying goodnight, but…" Fret clicked off the lamp Nagi had moved to the floor between them.
"Wait! No! Nonono! Don't fall asleep! Please!" Fret quickly flicked the light back on to see Nagi had quickly turned to face him again, holding back tears. "I… if anything… disconcerting starts happening during the night, please just… bid me to wake up. I'm not concerned with your methodology, I just beg of you, do it." Nagi rolled onto her side, facing away from him. This is what she had called him here for. Night terrors? Sleep paralysis? Whatever it was, Fret knew it was time to pay her back for all the times she had guided him through his own personal conflicts.. He lay there, staring into the darkness until her breathing had slowed and pulled out his phone. His mother still had not text. It wasn't even twelve. Tonight would be a long night, but when it came to someone like Nagi, Fret had all the patience in the world.