He observed the once-bare flower bed. Small mounds of upturned dirt and shrubbery dotted the black plain. It was weird to think that, in less than an hour, he and Haru were able to get all this work done. The girl had done most of the work, as usual, and obvious mistakes on Akira's part were sternly rectified by his companion. Akira could appreciate and respect Haru's commitment to her work, but he felt a small pang of fear every time he realized he made a mistake, knowing the girl would quickly scold him and show him how it was done properly.

"No, Akira, like this," she said, grabbing his spade and refilling the messy hole he left in the dirt. "If you don't give them enough space, their roots will tangle and it'll be a big waste!"

"S-sorry! I'll fix it."

"No, here." She inserted the spade into the boy's hand and wrapped her fingers around his wrist. She guided him down to the earth slowly, gently pulling on his arm. The boy obeyed, allowing himself to descend along with the girl's lead. The sharp end of the spade pierced the soft mound. The round edge of Akira's left shoulder descended, making contact with the very top of the right of Haru's chest. The fingers of her free hand pressed-up against Akira's, reinforcing his grip on the spade-handle. She pushed his fingers, and the spade dipped into the mound, and Akira's shoulder rubbed down from its place. The spade went deeper, deeper, until the very hilt was pushing against the earth. His shoulder stopped its grazing.

"Like this."

Now with both of her hands wrapped around his, she lifted the spade, bringing a heaping pile of soil along with it. Akira's arm raised up and brushed against a part of Haru's shirt. She dumped the soil into a neat little mound, and then brought Akira's hands and the spade back down into the hole she just made, smoothing out the walls, reshaping it into a rectangular form, patting down the loose bits. Up and down the spade went. Pat pat pat. Up and down, in and out.

"There," she said. "That's how you do it."

"I gotcha," Akira said. "I'll do better next ti-"

"Don't mention it."

Haru suddenly released her hold of the boy and sprung up from her crouching position. She quickly turned her back to him and started putting away her tools. "That will be enough for now. Thank you very much, Akira."

Something's not right, Akira thought. He looked toward Morgana, who was lounging lazily on the rim of the roof. Akira cocked an eyebrow at him and pointed his finger at the girl's back. The cat, who looked as equally confused as Akira, simply shrugged his shoulders.

While nervously rubbing the back of his neck, Akira stepped over to the girl. Her tools were almost fully packed and organized, a remarkable feat of speed, given how many items Haru had carried over.

"Uh… Haru?"

"Yes?"

"Is there… something you want to tell me?"

Haru froze.

Akira blinked.

Haru resumed packing.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, is everything alright with you? Sorry, but I just get the feeling that something is wrong."

Haru kept packing, but she didn't say anything for a few seconds.

"Nothing is wrong."

"Are you… are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

Akira stood behind Haru, watching her finish her packing. Before long, Haru zipped her backpack closed, swung it behind her back, and started walking to the exit, although her steps were very brisk.

Once she reached the handle of the door, Akira couldn't take it any longer. He jogged over to her.

"Haru!"

The girl immediately spun around, only to be met with Akira's face, who ended up stopping very close to her.

"Look, I don't know what's going. And maybe it's nothing. But I'm trying to be a good leader, and I'm trying to be a good friend. Please, if I've done anything to offend you, I sincerely apologize."

He brought his hand to the top of her arm and gripped it lightly. Haru met his gaze, but her slightly wide-eyed expression was all but unreadable.

"If there's something you want to talk about, please, just tell me. The last thing I want to do is hurt you. Okay?"

Haru didn't say anything, and her expression was unchanged. Try as he might, Akira couldn't figure out what Haru was thinking at all, even after studying her face so intently. He never noticed, however, how red the tips of Haru's ears were, or the light dusting of crimson on her cheekbones that revealed her barely-visible freckles. Akira wondered if it was due to the cold air, or some bubbling hostility that somehow manifested itself on her face. He prayed it was the former. The last thing he wanted was somebody he respected like Haru to hold a grudge against him.

"It's nothing, Akira," the girl said blankly. "Nothing at all. There is nothing you could do to offend me. I am unoffendable."

"Oh." Akira pursed his lips, and gave a weak smile. "Well, if you ever need somebody to talk to, you can depend on me. I'm here for you."

A cold breeze blew in, which Akira noticed made her face even more red than it already was. Was she telling the truth about her not being angry at him, then? Her hand looped around her back and grasped the doorknob, awkwardly turning it behind her. "I need to go, I have to catch a ride."

"Alright." Akira let go of her. He could just barely feel the muscles on her arm twitch at his fingertips. He winced, realizing how awkward he was for touching her.

Haru opened the door and stepped out. Even with the door closed, he could hear Haru's awkward footsteps down the stairs, descending in a pace that was uncharacteristically fast and rushed. Akira sighed, taking that as an obvious sign that she was trying to get away from him as soon as possible.

Morgana approached him. "Wow," he said. "What was that all about?"

"I really hope I didn't piss her off or something."

"She was acting kind of weird last night, too."

"Yeah. I hope everything is okay."

The cat yawned. "Whatever, we can worry about that later. Take me to Takemi, take me to Takemi!"

"You know I'm just dropping by to say thank you, right?"

"Plenty of time! I'm gonna get up on that rack even if it kills me!"

"If other people could understand what you were saying, I bet you would be arrested for sexual harassment."

"Whatever. Are you going, or what? We need to have enough time for that meeting."

"Yeah, yeah." Akira grabbed his backpack. "Let's go see sexy doctor lady."

Sexy Doctor Lady was pissed.

"Just what the hell has gotten into you? Did you get into a fight or something?"

"No."

"Then how were you knocked out cold? And in the middle of the night too?!"

"I 'dunno."

"You could have had a concussion! Look, I don't know why you keep buying medicine and bandages from me, and I agreed to not ask about it as long as you did these clinical trials with me. But if you keep showing up to me like this, then I'm going to stop it!"

"Kay."

"Don't act so flippant!"

"Sorry."

Takemi sighed. "Are you feeling okay, though?"

"Yep."

"Okay. That's good. My clinic is a place of comfort and health, Akira. You know that if you or somebody else needs medical attention, I'll be here. But please, you need to be more careful in the future."

"'Aight. Thanks for taking care of me."

"You're welcome." The doctor picked her clipboard back up and began inspecting it, as she was doing before Akira's entrance interrupted her. "Well, I don't have any trials I need to run right now, and my quick check-up on you didn't say anything was wrong, so maybe it's best if you-"

"Have you met my cat?" Akira produced Morgana from seemingly out of nowhere and raised him up to Takemi's face. "His name is Morgana."

Takemi's eyes widened and blinked rapidly in surprise. "Oh! Uh, no, you haven't."

"God, her rack is even better looking up-close!"

"Aww, he says hi!"

"Uhm, hello kitty."

"'Sup."

Takemi chuckled awkwardly. "Meow meow, heh heh."

"Alright, enough chit-chat. Gimme gimme!"

"I think he wants you to hold him. He likes you already!"

"W-wait, Kurusu!"

But Akira already dumped the cat into the surprised doctor's arms.

"Well, you have fun with him, I gotta use the bathroom!"

Before Takemi could say anything, Akira ran over to the bathroom and locked the door. He closed the toilet lid and sat on it. He took a deep, long breath.

"Oh my God she's so fucking hot when she's angryyyyy," he moaned as he exhaled. He reached into his pants and adjusted his set. After splashing some cold water on his face and slapping his cheeks a few times, Akira stepped back into the clinic, only to see the doctor standing on a stool, injecting a syringe into her thigh. Morgana was unable to reach her and looked startled at Takemi's reaction.

"Akira, I am allergic to cats!"

"Oh shit!" Morgana cried.

"Oh shit!" Akira said. "I'm sorry."

"Don't just stand there! Pick it up, pick it up!"

"I.. it?" Morgana muttered.

"Of course! Get over here, furball." Akira scooped up the cat and let him rest on his shoulder. "I honest-to-God didn't know, Dr. Takemi!" He gave a low bow.

"It's fine," Takemi said, descending from the stool. "Just be more careful."

"I mean, is there anything I can do?"

"Just go home, Akira. I think you've caused enough trouble as it is. And don't bring that thing here again."

"Thing?" Morgana cried.

"R-right. Sorry." Akira bowed again at Takemi, strafed backwards towards the door, gave another, even lower bow, and departed.

"Well, you little creep, did you get what you wanted?" Akira asked Morgana as soon as the door was closed.

"She… called me 'it'! She called me a thing!"

"Well what did you expect, Morgana? You could have killed her!"

"I didn't know that…"

"And all for a pair of boobs too."

"I didn't even get to feel them. She dropped me before I could do anything."

The boy started to make his way back to LeBlanc. He took out his phone and shot Futaba a quick message to come over.

"That should teach you to stop being creepy around girls. Just because they can't understand you, doesn't mean you aren't disrespecting them, you jackass."

"Says the guy that can't go five minutes without masturbating."

"That's different and you know it."

"Whatever."

The two didn't say much else for the majority of the walk to the café.

"She called me an 'it'…" Morgana eventually mumbled.

Akira looked at him wide-eyed. "Did that actually offend you?"

Morgana opened his mouth, but then looked away.

"No."

"Ok."

Akira pushed the door of the café open, the familiar bell giving its high-pitched ring. Sojiro was behind the counter, as usual, cleaning the countertop and putting away a few dishes. To Akira's surprise, Yusuke, the only customer at the moment, was sitting in one of the booths, a cup of coffee and an opened book resting on the table.

"Hey, Boss!" Akira greeted. Sojiro gave his usual grunt of salutation, not even bothering to look up from what he was doing. Akira walked over to Yusuke's booth. "Hey, Yusuke."

"Hello, Akira." Yusuke also seemed to be enraptured in what he was doing. The book lay flat on its spine, and the artist's nose was buried in its text.

"Hey, Yusuke," Morgana said, still perched on Akira's shoulder. He deftly jumped on the ground and made for the stairs. "I'm gonna take a nap for a few minutes."

"Okay, see you," Akira called to the cat as he disappeared upstairs. He turned to Yusuke. "You're pretty early, you know. I wasn't planning on holding the meeting until around 6."

"I wanted to be here until then," Yusuke mumbled, still reading.

"Alrighty." Akira looked around and shifted his weight before returning his attention to him. "So, uh, how're you feeling?"

"Fine."

"Good."

Silence.

"You know, Futaba is coming over in a few minutes. You wanna head upstairs with us and play some video games?"

"No thank you."

"Okay."

Silence.

"So… what're ya reading?"

"A novel."

"Alright. What novel?"

Yusuke sighed and lifted the book from the table, just barely giving Akira a chance to read the title. He cocked his head to the side, trying to align the kanji to make it more legible.

THE TEMPLE OF THE GOLDEN PAVILION

BY

YUKIO MISHIMA

"The fuck, dude!?" Akira whispered sharply. He quickly slammed the book flat on the table, jerking his head around to make sure nobody saw what Yusuke was reading.

Yusuke gave Akira an irritated look. "And what, pray tell, is the matter with you?"

"You can't be reading that kind of shit here!" Akira whispered. "People are going to think you're a school shooter or something!"

"I'll have you know," Yusuke whispered back, "that Mishima is my all-time favorite author, and his disturbed, irredeemable characters mixed with his avant-garde prose provide a reading experience unlike any other!"

"He tried to turn Japan into a fascist dictatorship."

"WELL MAYBE I WANT JAPAN TO BECOME A FASCIST DICTATORSHIP!" Yusuke roared as he stood up and slammed the table with his fist.

"Hey!" Sojiro yelled from behind the counter. "Keep it down, you brats! You're going to scare away all of the customers."

"Sorry boss…" the two boys mumbled. Yusuke visibly deflated and closed the book shut.

Akira sat in the booth across from Yusuke. "So, would you like to tell me what's wrong, or are you going to keep yelling stupid shit?"

Yusuke rubbed his forehead and sighed. "It's Ayoto."

"You mean that one chick you wanted to bone?"

"Yes."

"The one that's apparently super-duper thick?"

"Yes."

"Ah. What about her? Did she reject you?"

"No. She asked me out."

"Hot damn! You lucky bastard!" Akira proudly patted the boy's shoulder.

"No, Akira. I'm not lucky. I'm not lucky at all."

"What do you mean? That's great news, dude."

Yusuke slammed his forehead against the table and moaned. "Chadusukeeeeee…"

"Alright, that's the third time you said this guy's name. Are you going to tell me who he is?"

"He used to bully me in middle school. Now he just transferred to my school and he's already ruined my entire life."

Akira crossed his arms. "What do you mean?"

"I caught him and Ayoto having sex in the bathroom."

Akira leaned forward, his eyes full of shock. "Are you serious? The motherfucker literally just transferred and he's already slaying?"

"Amongst other things."

"Daaaamn. I'm, uh, I'm really sorry to hear that. But there's other fish in the sea. You'll be fine."

"Yes, but Akira." Yusuke looked up, his watery eyes locking with Akira's. "She asked me out and then made love with the person whom I despise the most!"

"I mean, she kinda sounds like a ho."

"She's not a ho! She's the most wonderful, most beautiful girl I have ever met!"

"Is that your brain or your dick talking?"

"I don't know, I don't know!" Yusuke moaned. He looked over to one of the café walls, where a beautiful picture of a woman cradling a baby hung. "I just wanted to be with the Sayuri right now. The Sayuri, and somebody who understands my pain and frustrations." He unenthusiastically lifted his book, and then pathetically tossed it back on the table.

The bell on the café door rang again. Akira turned his head and saw Futaba, cradling a fight stick in one arm.

"Hey, dad!" The girl nodded to Sojiro. "Akira and I are gonna play some Third Strike upstairs!"

"I have no idea what that even means," Sojiro mumbled. "Just try to keep it down."

"Sure! You ready to get your shit pushed in again, Aki-chan?"

"I swear to God you little twerp, if you call me that again-"

"Nuh-uh. Nope," she interrupted him. "I reserve the right to call you whatever demeaning names I want until you beat me in a single match, and so far, we're at 0-48."

Akira grumbled in response and looked away from her.

As Futaba made her way toward the stairs, she only just noticed Yusuke sitting there, his upper body lying prostrate against the table, his forehead resting against one of his forearms, hiding his face.

"Oh! Yusuke, I didn't know you were here."

The boy weakly raised his hand, gave a pathetic wave, and then plopped it back down on the table, not even bothering to look up.

She turned to Akira and gave a confused look. "Erm, is he okay?"

"Yeah, he's… he's fine."

She nudged his shoulder. "Hey, Inari, you're not sick, are you?"

Yusuke moaned a negative into his arm.

"You should go home."

Yusuke didn't say anything.

"Yusuke? Come on, look at me."

Yusuke shook his head, further burying his face in his arms.

The girl's face curled up in anger. "Hey, I don't wanna get sick if you're contagious! Get out of here, you dumbass!" Yusuke didn't respond, but pushed himself further into the corner of the booth, safe from Futaba's grasp. "Fine, do whatever you want. Stupid Inari. Come on, Akira, let's go upstairs already."

She gave a big huff and trudged up the stairs.

"Yikes," Akira said. "You pissed her off, man."

"Who cares?" Yusuke mumbled into his arm.

"You didn't even look at her!"

"If I look at her, I'll get aroused."

"That… you are fucked up."

"Leave me be."

Akira shook his head and joined Futaba in his room.

Akira fondly remembered the first time he and Futaba ended up bonding. A month before the Phantom Thieves even encountered Ali Baba, Akira found an old PlayStation 2, a fight stick, and an almost-perfect copy of Street Fighter III: Third Strike at a rummage sale he just so happened to pass by. A long-time fighting game lover, it didn't take long for him to snatch the ridiculously good deal as quickly as he could.

Soon after rescuing Futaba, the Phantom Thieves held a meeting in Akira's room. Before anyone could even have an opportunity to speak, Futaba noticed the game cover on Akira's desk and excitedly asked where he got it and if she could play it with him right this instant. From then on, the two spent hours every week in the Leblanc attic doing nothing but playing the old fighting game. Sometimes other friends would join, but it was always Akira and Futaba who devoted so much of their time to the game. This shared hobby, plus Futaba's designation of the boy as her 'key item' and frequent trips to the Metaverse, allowed a strong, almost familial bond to form between the two. Akira was an only child, but he loved the idea of having a younger sister, and Futaba proved to be the perfect surrogate. Akira was uncharacteristically protective of her, much to the girl's slight annoyance and admiration.

And, as his surrogate sister, Akira felt that he could say things to her that he couldn't say to anybody else. Which was why, when Futaba beat him for the third time that day, he directed a slew of vulgar words and painful insults in her direction.

"GODDAMN MOTHER FUCKING," Akira screamed, "PIECE OF SHIT STUPID IDIOT BITCH!"

Futaba leaned back in her chair, grinning at her handiwork and Akira's incoherent sentences of anger, basking in his frustration. "0-51, Aki-chan," she said. "I've never met anybody this devoted to a fighting game with such a low potential for improvement. Pretty impressive, honestly."

"SHUT UP!" Akira yelled. "NEW GAME, NEW GAME!"

She scoffed and hit the 'rematch' option.

The two didn't say much, focusing on the game at hand. No matter how angry Akira got, his frustration was always replaced with determination as soon as a new game started. After starting their 52nd match, however, Futaba spoke up for the first time that day during a fight.

"What's with Yusuke?"

"I dunno," Akira said, eyes glued to the screen.

"He seemed really out of it today."

"Mmm."

"Do you…" She trailed off. Akira wasn't sure if it was because she was trying to find out what to say, or was distracted by the game. "Do you have any idea why?"

"I mean, it probably has something to do wi- GOD DAMN IT!" he screamed, the first round of the match falling to Futaba's favor. "THAT WAS THE CHEAPEST SHIT!"

"The move ain't cheap just because you don't know how to counter it!" Futaba laughed. "You just have no tactical skills whatsoever."

"PISS OFF!" he yelled.

Round 2 began.

"What were you saying?" Futaba asked, after a few seconds.

"Huh?"

"Before the match ended, you were saying something."

"Oh. I forget."

They didn't say anything for a while.

"I think it had something to do with Yusuke," she said.

"What?"

"What you were saying before you got cut-off. I think you were talking about Yusuke."

"Oh. Oh! Uh, yeah. I mean, you know how Yusuke gets. Your guess is as good as mine."

"That's not what you were saying, though."

"Huh?"

"You said, 'It probably has something to do with-,' and then you got cut-off."

"Oh. Yeah, I mean, I spoke with him a little bit before you came to th- FUCK!" The second round went to Futaba, giving her the entire match. "FOR FUCK'S SAKE, EVERY SINGLE TIME I TRY TO GET OUT OF THAT MIX-UP, YOU-"

"Wanna rematch?" Futaba quickly cut-in.

"Oh! Uh, sure."

Futaba immediately hit the 'rematch' button and the game resumed.

"So you spoke to Yusuke."

"Yeah. He's depressed."

Futaba didn't have a response to that for a few seconds.

"Yusuke's depressed?"

"Seems like it."

"Does he… have depression?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, is he, like, taking any medication, or seeing anyone?"

"I dunno."

"You don't know?"

"Nah."

"How could you not know?"

"Why would I know?"

"Isn't Yusuke one of your best friends?"

"Yeah."

"But you don't even know if he's depressed!"

"So?"

"How can you call yourself his friend if you don't even know something that important!"

"Well shit, Futaba," Akira mumbled, the vast majority of his attention still being devoted to the fight. "He's your friend too. If you're so worried about him, how come you didn't know he might have depression until I just told you?"

Futaba didn't say anything, but Akira noticed that she left her character wide open. Not passing up this rare opportunity, and evoking his several months' worth of experience, he managed to destroy the rest of her health with a surprisingly well-executed combo, giving the first round to him.

"YES!" Akira pumped the air with his fist, his face radiating happiness. "FUCK. YES! HOOOOooooo baby! That's the first time I got a round off you in over a month!"

"I just wasn't paying attention…" the girl mumbled.

"Naaaaaaaaahhhh, nah nah nah nah," Akira said. "Nah, you just didn't see me run up on you like that. Damn, I ran UP on you with that! C'mon, c'mon! Next round, next round!"

Futaba was silent as the second round started. Akira gave animated interjections throughout. A high-pitched 'oof!' whenever the girl caught him in a corner, or an excited 'yeah!" when he managed to get the upper hand. But, despite his confidence, the round still comfortably went to the silent Futaba, causing Akira to smack his fight stick with his fist.

"NO! NO! I'm not letting you take this away from me goddamnit! I'm gonna win, I'm gonna win!"

The third round started, but this time Futaba spoke up almost immediately.

"What's he depressed about?"

Akira didn't say anything, his mind completely into the game.

"Akira, what is he depressed about?"

Hearing his name pulled him back to reality, but only slightly. "Huh? Oh, well, some guy who used to bully him got transferred to his school."

"Did he get into a fight with him or something?"

"I don't think so," Akira said. He chuckled as he remembered what Yusuke told him. "Oh, yeah, apparently this guy just swooped-in and Yusuke caught him fucking that girl he has a crush on."

The match continued for a while in silence. Akira found a few openings and managed to chip away at Futaba's health.

Futaba muttered something, but Akira couldn't make it out.

"What'd you say?"

She swallowed, and it was so loud that Akira could hear it clearly. Odd, since he didn't notice her eating or drinking anything.

"I said, Yusuke has a crush on a girl?"

"Uh huh. Some chick at his school."

It was easy for Akira to break Futaba's block. He threw her and got a solid hadouken on her.

"What's her name?" Akira could barely hear her voice. It was so obvious to him that she was scared of losing her first match to him. This gave the boy a renewed sense of confidence. He smirked, and aggressively attacked her, utilizing the riskiest combos he knew.

"I don't know her," he answered. "All I know is that her name is Ayoyo or something, and apparently she's thick as FUCK."

Futaba didn't say anything. Akira's palms began to sweat as the timer counted down, and his opponent's health gradually made its way down.

"Yeah, I don't think Yusuke's ever had a crush on a girl like that before," he continued, still focusing on the screen. "At least, he hasn't spoken to me about a girl like that before. But, like, he must really like her if that got him this upset."

Akira was surprised: it was extremely rare for him to get Futaba's health this low while he was barely hurt at all. And during the third match of a round too! Usually, whenever this happened, the girl had some sneaky maneuver up her sleeve, only letting Akira get her down this low just to humiliate him at the last minute. But this was the closest he has ever come to actually beating her, and Akira was absolutely adamant that there was no way in hell he was going to let his arch-nemesis get the better of him now. Not wasting any time, the boy closed the gap between the two fighters, got his footsies in order, zoned out a little to make sure he had ample room away from any of her more obvious counter-attacks, and then went-in for the kill. Through sheer muscle memory, he activated his super-art, and to his utter, indescribable joy, saw the first frame of Ryu's uppercut connect cleanly on Yun's face.

"YES!" he screamed as the animation gloriously played out before his eyes. "YES YES YES YES YES YES!"

The match ended, the white-clad Shotokan proudly giving his victory pose.

Akira bounced up in happiness, celebrating his first win against the girl.

"AWWWWW YEAH! AWWWwwwww YEAH! FINALLY! FUCKING FINALLY! This calls for some celebration!" He snatched up his fight stick and hit the 'return to title' option. The game's intro music came up.

"YEAH YOU KNOW WHAT THEY SAY! THAT THIRD STRIKE IS WHAT COUNTS!" Akira started chanting off-beat with the rap lyrics. "AND YOU CAN GET IT TOO, DON'T THINK THAT I CAN'T KNOCK YOU OUT!" As that was about as far as the boy's skills in English went, he continued the rest of the song in an incoherent gibberish that only a Japanese person could make when trying to sing in a foreign language.

After decided that he celebrated and gloated enough, Akira plopped back down on his chair, and gave a satisfied sigh. "Wanna play again?" he offered to the girl.

"I want to go home."

Futaba's voice was barely a whisper. Akira ruffled his brow in concern.

"Uh, are you alright?"

"Yes."

The girl stood-up, unplugged her fight stick, and made her way downstairs.

The boy groaned smacked his forehead for being such an asshole to her. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Akira went too far with his gloating. Futaba was, after all, still dealing with a whole slew of emotional and personal problems that attributed to her shut-in nature. Why couldn't he just take his victory with some honor, instead of gloating about it like a complete jerk?

Fuck, first I pissed Haru off, and now Futaba, he thought to himself. I gotta go apologize before she leaves.

He rushed downstairs to the café. Futaba was still making her way out, but she quickly sped past Yusuke without even saying goodbye to him, or leaving him a playful insult as she often did with him. Yusuke, for his part, did not even raise his head to look at her, his dead-looking eyes staring a pathetic little drawing he was doodling on his notepad.

"Futaba, I'm sorry!" Akira called-out. "I didn't mean to rub it in your face."

She stopped at the door. For a few moments, she merely stood there, not saying anything, but she eventually turned to face Yusuke.

"You're an idiot!" An unmistakable warble accentuated her outburst. Without even giving the startled artist a chance to say anything, she swung the door open and ran outside.

Akira could her the toilet flush, and saw Sojiro step out of the bathroom behind him.

"What's all this noise?" he asked. He cocked an accusatory eyebrow at his ward. "You didn't do anything to Futaba, did you?"

Akira sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "I beat her at a game and started rubbing it in her face. I was being a jerk to her."

Sojiro gave a surprised look. "Oh. Well…" He made his way back behind the counter. "I, uh, I guess you had better apologize to her."

"Yeah," Akira said dejectedly. "I'm such an idiot."

"You're not, you're not." Sojiro shook his head. He gave the boy one of his rare, warm smiles, which caught Akira off-guard. "You two bicker almost exactly…" He trailed off. He turned his back to Akira and started rubbing his glasses. "Just give her some time to calm down. She'll come through."

"Yeah…" Despite being relieved that Sojiro wasn't pissed at him, Akira still felt like total shit. He walked over to Yusuke, who went back to drawing in his little book.

"It's almost 5:40, man," Akira said. "Ryuji's gonna be here soon. Let's go upstairs, alright?"

"Alright…" the artist mumbled. He weakly closed his book, and joined Akira upstairs.

A/N

Yeah, bitches! I bet you didn't think I would update so soon, huh? This chapter was a fun one to write, but as you can probably tell, the real chapter is still unfinished. I think the next part will be the final one, and then we can move on to the next major phase of the story.

'Aight, now lemme answer some of ya'll's comments.

ElizaxNiggasaki: My child, I am here. I will always be in your heart, even when my body ascends to godhood after I successfully finish No Nut November.

Jiggs: That is one of the nicest comments I have ever gotten for this story. Thank you so much, that made my day.

Overicca: LLOOOOOOOLLLL, looks like somebody just can't handle Best Girl!

Dangstaboy: This isn't a Yusuke/Futaba fic. But, don't worry, my man. This won't be the last you see of these two in my story!

TheYuriScholar: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Thanks again for reading, liking, commenting, sharing, etc. Please, keep the feedback coming! Let me know what you think about this chapter and where you think the story is headed, and as always, I'm open to answer any questions you guys have. DM me! Also, I updated my bio a bit, in case anybody wants to read that shit.

Don't forget to go to confession!

Kiril