A/N: So, maybe I lied about seeing Ikutsuki and such last chapter.
But hey, we're there now! And I've been looking forward to this one!
Hopefully you enjoy!

Chapter 5: Descent

Makoto replays the day in his head. The encounter with the odd man had been taxing enough, but the shopping trip had turned out to be draining in its own way. He looks down to the two plastic bags rustling in his hand. One has the words 'Aohige Pharmacy' written on it in bold blue font. The pharmacy itself had been fairly small, but well stocked. Unfortunately, the smaller size meant that the burly owner could stare at him the entire time Makoto was inside. Seriously, that guy must have been a wrestler or something. His expression of suspicion was fixed to his face, even as Makoto collected only some box dye and a bottle of lens solution. Always good to have a backup. His hair hadn't got bad yet but it's good to be prepared.

The owner had growled out the price, meticulously counted Makoto's yen, then counted again, and finally bagged up his items and nodded towards the door when he was satisfied. Guess he doesn't need any security to stop people lifting his drugs. He could probably deal with anyone himself.

Paulownia Mall itself was surprisingly nice. Open space, lots of light streaming from the domed glass roof. A few fountains sprayed out water in a consistent soothing rhythm. Not the best array of stores, but enough to keep people happy and supplied. It even had an arcade, a club, and a pretty upmarket looking coffee shop. Also, karaoke but I will not be seen dead there. Though it could be fun. But at the very least, those three other locations seemed far more appealing.

The second bag is unmarked, a simple green plastic. A long coil of thick, brown rope is coiled inside, like a viper waiting to strike. Makoto had picked it up from a shady hardware store around the corner of Port Island station. The place's major advertising was likely the fact it looked as though it had been built from the ground up. The owner had given Makoto a very long, slightly sad look when Makoto asked for a long length of rope which could carry his weight. Such a good expression. It ended up backfiring though, as she had then given Makoto an attempt at an inspiring talk about the value of life and inquiring as to his health.

To get the needed rope, Makoto convinced her that it was in fact for climbing, which technically wasn't even a lie. To her credit, the owner squinted and pointed out that there were probably specialist ropes for that sort of thing. In turn, Makoto said that he liked the danger of traditional tools. That seemed to resonate somewhat with the owner, but the distrust in her expression hadn't faded, and she watched him as he left the store.

I wonder how many times she's had that conversation. Makoto frowns, I wonder what prompted her to say that in the first place… did something happen. He shakes his head ruefully. Nothing worse than a shopkeeper with a conscience. Like that's any way to run a business.

Still, maybe the rope would serve a dual purpose. It's good to have options.

Eventually Makoto returns to the dorm, and is greeted within by Yukari, who's sitting on one of the couches with an anxious look on her face. Been expecting me, pinky? "Hey, Miss Takeba."

"Hey, Yuki. Um…" She turns her head slightly to look at one of the single-seaters closest to the door, at the head of the low table.

Sitting at it is a man who almost blends in with the leather of the chair itself. He wears a dull tan suit over a black turtleneck and has dark brown hair that falls past the base of his neck. He turns to Makoto, revealing a pair of spectacles perched onto his nose, kindly eyes and a placid smile. Like someone trying to look bookish or sophisticated. Ugh, a tryhard. The gentleman raises a hand, then stands up, "Ah, good evening!"

Makoto bows his head politely, trying to stop a frown of distaste form on his face, "Good evening, sir." When he straightens, he glances to Yukari for an explanation.

Before she can open her mouth, the gentleman continues, "You must be the new transfer I've been hearing so much about." He reaches out a hand to Makoto.

There is an awkward pause before Makoto takes it and gives it a cursory shake. Their eyes meet and for the barest moment, Makoto feels fangs at his neck. It's almost like he's shaking hands with Takaya, except now that dangerous atmosphere is smothered by a blanket and refined into a point. In fact, it's subtle enough that if Makoto's paranoia wasn't ramped up by his meeting with Takaya, he might not have even noticed.

What the- And then it's gone. Something must have registered on Makoto's face, since the gentleman gives a placating laugh, "Apologies for surprising you like this. I'm sure you have better things to do than entertain me." He lets go of Makoto's hand and gestures to the couch Yukari sits on, "Please, take a seat."

That one moment had been enough to make Makoto's mask slips, and he hastily makes to put the Ordinary Face back on. Come on. Smile, be nice, and then we can go to bed. Who cares who this guy is? But even Makoto can admit to a little intrigue. He takes a seat next to Yukari, who glances at him and shrugs.

The gentleman returns to his own seat and crosses his legs. He steeples his fingers and turns that all-too-gentle smile to Makoto, "My name is Shuji Ikutsuki. I'm the Chairman of the board at your new school."

Oh, so he's actually important? Could be useful then… "I see. Thank you very much for making the arrangements for my transfer, Mr Ikutsuki."

"Ah! And here I was going to say that my name is rather hard to say." Ikutsuki gives an airy chuckle, "Your articulation is to be admired. Even I get a little tongue tied sometimes. And really, it's no bother. Gekkoukan is all too happy to assist young people such as yourself."

What's that supposed to mean? But rather than ask, Makoto simply nods. Wait… Young people like him? Does he mean just 'young people…' or does he know something? He looks back over to the gentleman, whose face is a picture of refined contentment. Nothing to suggest any ill-will or knowledge. Hmm… Of course, Makoto knows well that there's likely a file about him somewhere. Probably just his academic history. And that would only show a long history of intentionally average grades, with the occasional bump if prowess and renown were to be useful, and he actually did some studying.

The gentleman gestures at the room around them, "I must apologise for the confusion regarding your accommodations. As you well know, it was a rather… last minute transfer." He gives Yukari a smile, then looks back to Makoto, "I do hope your dorm-mates have been helping you."

Yukari pipes up, huffing, "I helped him to school the other day, and me and Kirijo-senpai uh…" She pauses, and her eyes dart to Makoto for the briefest moment. Yes, pinky, how are you going to explain that? "… welcomed him." Booooring.

"That is most wonderful to hear." Ikutsuki gives Makoto a wink, "You are fortunate to have some most reliable people living here. You can count on them." He shifts in place and brushes some non-existent dust from a trouser leg, "That said, I'm afraid it may take a little longer to get you situated in the boys' dorm. We are rather short on space!"

And yet there are plenty of empty rooms here. "I am sure it's simply a sign of the quality of your school, sir."

"You are kind to say so. Now, I'm sure it has been a long day for you, but if you have any questions…?"

Oh, plenty. What's going on between Yukari and Mitsuru? Why are you just a little bit creepy? Do you know anyone named Takaya? He looks to Yukari, who is staring at him in the kind of way someone does when they're trying to tell you something. His mind goes back to the previous day and can hear Yukari telling him not to say anything about the night of his arrival. Clearly she knows about my hidden hour. Mitsuru too. I wonder… "Oh uh, actually there is something."

"Please, do go on. I am at your disposal."

"The night I arrived…" Makoto hides a grin, seeing Yukari's eyebrows shoot up. In fact, he thinks he sees her hand twitch, likely her holding back from grabbing him. Shame she doesn't have that gun. She'd probably shoot me right here. "Well, I saw something weird, sir."

"Oh? Something weird? Such as what?" Ikutsuki glances at Yukari, and then his eyes move back to Makoto. When they meet, there's again that feeling of sharp fangs touching to Makoto's neck. He can almost feel the trickle of venom or sweat rolling down his skin. Ikutsuki simply smiles at Makoto, waiting for his answer. But there's something in the smile, something amused and mocking. It gloats at Makoto, jeering at him for thinking he knows anything. He already knows the answer. Makoto squints for a moment, just enough for the older man to see. In response, Ikutsuki's smile only grows. Where Takaya reminds Makoto of a starving coyote, wild and ferocious, this man seems to be an entirely different breed. Subtle. So much so that Makoto questions if he's even seeing anything in the first place. And there's no point in asking.

"Actually, sir… I think I might have just been tired. It was a long trip."

While he can sense Yukari relax a little next to him, Ikutsuki only nods, his smile returning to the placid one he wore upon Makoto's arrival. "That is likely the case. Starting a new school year can be rather stressful. If you like, I can ask the school nurse to give you a check-up?"

Yukari makes a noise which sounds like a mix between a snort and a scoff. Both Ikutsuki and Makoto turn to her, the former with a hint of amusement, and the latter with a wide grin. She covers her mouth as a pink tone tinges her cheeks, "I-I'm sorry. Mr Edogawa is just…" She trails off.

"Eccentric?" Ikusuki offers. He chuckles as Yukari gives a slow nod, "Well, you would be right in saying so." He looks to Makoto, "But rest assured, he is fully qualified and highly skilled. You would be in good hands."

"I don't know if that will be necessary, sir, but I will keep it in mind." Which one was Edogawa…? His mind draws up the image of the lab-coat clad man in the Faculty Office, blabbing away about something vaguely occult. Ah. That explains it.

"Well in that case, I wish you a wonderful school year. Now, if you'll excuse me…" Ikutsuki rises from the chair and makes his way towards the stairs. He stops as he passes Makoto, and again Makoto can see that smile hidden in his eyes, "You must be rather tired after the last few days. It would be best to get an early night. After all, as they say, the early bird catches the bookworm!"

The smile on his lips becomes expectant. Oh… Oh was that a joke? Makoto tries to cover his wince with awkward, forced laughter. He hears Yukari emit a low groan next to him. Ikutsuki gives a satisfied nod and grins, "Please, excuse my pun." Oh god it was! He adjusts his glasses and heads off to climb the stairs.

Yukari shakes her head and leans over to whisper to Makoto, "You'll get used to his bad jokes."

"Are they all that bad?"

Yukari giggles, "Oh yeah. Or worse. You got lucky."

Makoto makes a face, prompting a smile from his dorm-mate. It's nice when she's not being all… suspicious. Easier. The two of them sit quietly, until they hear Ikutsuki's footsteps disappear somewhere upstairs. Once he can no longer be heard, Yukari turns to Makoto, her face dropping from a smile to an annoyed frown. Ah. Good things don't last forever. "Why'd you say that?"

Figured that'd get her attention. "Say what, Miss Takeba?"

Yukari rolls her eyes and nods her head to the chair Ikutsuki was sitting in, "About the other night! I asked you to…" She sighs and shakes her head, not saying anything further.

"Oh, of course. I know, but he seemed pretty smart. I thought-."

"Is this because we haven't explained everything?" A look of discomfort crosses Yukari's face. Did she just interrupt me?

Though, an explanation would be nice. "No, no, I just… I thought he might have known something. It was kind of…" Alright, let's lay the trap. He swallows, looking away from her. His eyes settle on the wall opposite, his shoulders drop. He lets his eyes widen slightly. Haunted. "It was kind of scary."

Yukari nods and looks to her hands, which hold each other in her lap, "Well, look, it's just better you don't say anything. Even to people who know about it."

Makoto fights to keep the grin off his face. So that guy does know about it as well. His victorious amusement lasts only a short time before it makes way to a frustration. Man, just how many people know about my hidden hour? "But why? Shouldn't people know?"

The brunette's expression turns conflicted, "It's just… how it has to be." The statement ends lamely, and even she seems dissatisfied with it.

"But… will you explain it to me, Miss Takeba…?" His words are soft, imploring. Hopeful. If anyone will crack, it's her.

And for a moment, it seems she will. She takes a breath and looks to Makoto. A sliver of determination works into her eyes, a hint of the fire she had shown back at school. But then she wilts, "I will, Yuki. I just can't right now, okay? Can you wait a little bit longer?"

Ugh. It'll have to do. At least I know I'll get an answer. "Sure, I understand. I don't want to make things hard for you."

Yukari visibly relaxes at that, her relief obvious, "Phew. Good. If I say anything, Kirijo-senpai will eat me for lunch." A half smile flickers onto her lips, but it doesn't make it any further than that.

The change in conversation topic isn't quite the intended goal, but it works. Could be useful. "Speaking of Miss Kirijo…"

"Mm?" Yukari looks over to him, pressing her back to the couch cushions as though bracing herself.

"Is there something going on with you guys?"

Her brows knit a little, and she gives Makoto a long look, "How do you mean?"

That you want to take her out to a restaurant? What do you think, pinky? "Well, you uh… don't seem to be on the best of terms?" He puts up his hands, pressing them to an invisible wall in front of him, "But, y'know, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to." Which usually means that I want her to tell me.

Another long look, and Yukari shakes her head, "It's… nothing. We've just never really got on as like, friends." She shrugs and looks down to her lap, "I mean, Mitsuru's fine, she's nice, I guess. We're different kinds of people." Makoto notes that she doesn't sound convinced by her own words.

"Did something happen?"

The frown on Yukari's face deepens and she looks over to him, confusion in her eyes, "Why are you asking, Yuki?"

Uh oh. Overstepped. He quickly molds a bashful expression on his face. Small smile, a glance away, tinge a little blush onto his cheeks. He fiddles with the edge of his fringe, framing his eyes as he looks at her, "Well uh… I just want to know more about you, Miss Takeba…"

The effect is less than desired. Yukari does look surprised for a brief moment as she leans back, "Oh, uh…" Confusion reasserts itself swiftly though, "Riiiight. Um. Honestly, everything is fine. Don't worry about it." She gives him what she likely thinks is a reassuring smile, and then stands. "Anyway, I'm gonna head to my room. Might as well get some studying done, right?"

Damn. Junpei did say she's popular, guess she's dealt with blushing heartthrobs before. Thankfully, Yukari doesn't seem too disturbed by the change in his attitude, but it's clear that he won't be able to push this conversation any further. I'll have to take a different angle in the future… "Makes sense to me. I might do the same." He gives her a wide, pleasant smile, "Best of luck, classmate!"

Yukari nods and wishes him goodnight, before heading upstairs. He waits for her to go, and then lets the mask drop away, leaving a frustrated scowl on his face. It's gotta be important if none of them are dropping details. For him, his hidden hour had always been his own little paradise. An escape from the prying and judgemental eyes of others, a time when the world itself is only his.

And now, he's met at least two people who are able to infringe on that. Maybe three, if Ikutsuki can as well. Makoto grips the material of his trousers and twists his lips. Sure, he had heard screams and voices during his hidden hour, but he had never run into other people. Sure, it was a mystery in the first place. But it was also a blessing. If these people know more about it, I have to find out. Maybe it means something?

But does that even matter?

Drumming his fingers on his leg, he fidgets, then groans. Whatever. Pinky will tell me at some point, and maybe I can pressure Mitsuru too. He stands and stalks back to his room, ignoring the buzzing in his head.

Yukari stares up at the overlarge monitor in front of her. It dominates the wall, and its image is a mess of graphs, diagrams, and a live feed of the inside of Makoto's room. I can't believe we're doing this. She watches the blue-haired boy as he sits at his desk, quietly fiddling with a long length of rope. A magazine lies on the console in front of her, turned to a page about new season fashion. There are a few cute pieces, but she's too distracted to properly look at them.

To her left, her senior shifts a little in her chair. Mitsuru is watching the feed, occasionally scribbling something in a notebook. Her expression is distracted, maybe even a little bored. If we're gonna spy on him, can you at least look like it's important? "What do you think he's doing?"

Mitsuru glances over and shakes her head, "I can't be sure. It seems he is tying knots in that rope. Perhaps it's some sort of…" She pauses, before plucking the word from the air, "Ritual?"

"Huh?"

"As in, something to relax him. Everyone has something they use to distract themselves. Though I would rather he was studying." The crimsonette glances at the screen and writes a short sentence in her notebook.

Yukari looks to the magazine. How many times had she flicked through glossy pages, or fiddled with her phone, or watched a dumb tv show just to not think about stuff? "Weird sort of ritual." Inwardly, she apologises for saying something like that. Makoto seemed nice, if a little weird.

Her mind goes back to their conversation earlier in the day, and his expression towards the end. It was kinda… cute? But sudden. She frowns, Like, it came out of nowhere. Weird was the best way to put it. He reminds her of a scrappy puppy, a little odd and eccentric, but hard not to enjoy the company of.

"Mm." Mitsuru doesn't look away from her notebook this time, but half-nods.

"Working hard?" Yukari turns to see Ikutsuki stepping into the room, brushing down the front of his jacket. He gives her a nod and a smile, before glancing at the screen, "How is he doing?"

Mitsuru looks up to the screen and frowns, "He seems well enough. Just… tying knots in a rope."

"Hm. Well, I suppose that isn't too concerning." Ikutsuki reaches out and pulls one of the red leather pouffes from the table nearby, and sits between the two girls, "Nothing else worth mentioning?"

Before Mitsuru can reply, Yukari looks to the chairman, "Can you two tell me why we're here, now?" She doesn't mean to sound that annoyed, despite it being true to her feelings. Neither Mitsuru nor Ikutsuki react to her outburst, other than to look at her.

"Mitsuru, have you got a copy of his file?"

"I do." She opens a drawer and withdraws a slim manila folder, which she sets on the console near Yukari, "Here, Takeba. I'm sorry you've had to wait this long." She has an apologetic smile on her face, but Yukari doesn't buy it. She snatches up the folder and looks inside.

What could be so important? There are only a few sheets of paper inside. In the top left corner on the first page is a picture of Makoto, likely taken from his application to the school. In it, he gives the camera a bright smile, and has brushed his hair out of his eyes. Let's see here… The headline declares the document to be a background report on the boy. I wonder if they've got one about me… She looks at Mitsuru, whose eyes are back on the screen. Probably.

Huh… The actual content of the document is surprisingly sparse. A basic history of Makoto's living situations. He's been all over Japan, huh? Must have been exhausting. A few times every year he has been moved to some other part of the same city, or further out into other parts of the country. A map of Japan is attached, with little pinpoints marked across it.

"It seems he didn't move around so much when younger, but the pace has increased over recent years." Ikutsuki nods to himself.

Indeed, there were only a couple of moves in the mid-to-late 90's. The document then goes on to detail his parents, who were described as 'ordinary office workers with no particular eccentricities or criminal history.' Yukari looks at the chairman and frowns, "Where'd you guys get this stuff?"

"Hm? Oh, interviews with neighbours and the like. Interestingly, it seems that very few of them recall Makoto himself. They all seemed rather confused when our… investigators brought up the issue." Ikutsuki hums thoughtfully, "Please, continue reading, Yukari."

More information on his parents… None of this seems particularly weird. In 1999- Oh. That was the year where… Don't think about it. She reads on. 'In 1999, an incident on the Moonlight Bridge-' wait, near Port Island? He didn't say he'd been here before. 'An incident… claimed the lives of his parents.' Yukari gasps, drawing a raised eyebrow and a glance from Mitsuru. Both of them? Wait, wait. 'The subject observed their passing and narrowly avoided his own death after emergency medical attention.' "Oh god."

"Quite. After meeting him, I was surprised at how well he seems to carry such a tragedy." Mitsuru pauses in her notetaking to look at the boy on the screen, who now stands in front of the mirror, staring at themselves.

"Ah Mitsuru, one should never judge based on appearances. People can be surprisingly good at hiding their pain." Ikutsuki muses, nodding once more.

He's lost both his parents…? No wonder he's been moving around so much. The rest of the report seems mundane by comparison. How does he cope? His grades had always been fairly average, with occasional rises and falls. Interviews with fellow students and teachers were conflicted. Some painted him as a cheerful, friendly, and helpful person. Others said that he was sullen and unapproachable. Others shared rumours that he had fallen in with the wrong crowd or had committed various acts of violence.

"Anything jumping out at you, Yukari?"

Yukari shakes her head, frowning. I mean, sure, it's sad, but other than him knowing about the Dark Hour… Turning the page, Yukari finds a typed-out document, which has official heading from some hospital she hasn't heard of.

T: Good afternoon, I am Dr. Takeshiro. I work here at the hospital. Could you tell me your name, sweetie?

[The patient does not respond.]

T: Excuse me? Could you please tell me your name?

P: …Makoto.

T: And… your last name?

P: Yuki.

T: Thank you very much, Makoto. Now, how are you feeling today?

P: Fine.

T: That's good. That's good.

[The sound of pen on paper.]

T: Makoto, your nurse tells me you've been having some trouble sleeping. Could you tell me about that?

T: Makoto?

P: It's scary.

T: Go on.

P: Everything is green. There's blood everywhere. I can hear mama and papa.

[The sound of pen on paper.]

T: Okay. And when does this happen, Makoto?

P: At night. Late at night. After the lights turn off. I… I'm scared, mister.

T: There now, it's okay. Take your time.

[The patient sobs.]

P: Where did they go?

T: Hm?

P: Mama and papa. Where did they go?

T: They… went away, Makoto. I'm sorry. They're in a better place.

P: Where?

T: I'm afraid it's somewhere we can't go, Makoto. You'll see them someday.

P: When?

T: [Clears throat.] Makoto, could you tell me more about what happens at night?

P: Blood comes down the walls. The moon is green. If I look out of the window, everything is green, and there are big wooden things.

T: I see… Can you describe the wooden things for me?

[Patient is silent. Rustling of paper.]

T: Perhaps you can draw them for me? Would that be okay?

P: 'Kay…

[Scribbling. The rustling of paper.]

T: Hm… The patient has drawn a picture of what appears to be a coffin, or a kite.

P: What are they?

T: I'm not sure, Makoto. But it's alright, whatever they are you are safe and sound here in the hospital. We're here to help you, okay?

P: But no-one comes to help me.

T: I'm sorry?

P: I shout, but no-one comes. I shout really loud. I shout until the green goes away.

T: And it does go away?

P: Yeah.

T: Well that's good. Listen, Makoto, we're going to be keeping a close eye on you okay? You're perfectly safe.

[Patient is silent.]

P: Are mama and papa dead?

T: I… am afraid so, Makoto.

P: Would I see them if I died?

[Patient is unresponsive from this point. Patient is returned to their room and observed. Patient grows increasingly distressed in the hour approaching midnight. At 00:01, observing staff find the patient in a state of extreme distress in the corner of their room. Attending staff are recommended to add a dosage of-]

The report descends into a list of medicines given to Makoto as a child. Yukari looks over the transcript again, and then looks to the other two in the room. The monitor had been switched off sometime during her reading, apparently Makoto was changing, and they didn't want to intrude that much. At least they're doing the bare minimum for his privacy.

"Ah, that is something we managed to find deep in a hospital record. What do you think?"

Yukari drums looks down at the transcript. She's grateful it's only words, since an audio recording would leave her feeling even more melancholy than she already is. Reading these words, she can't imagine the person she's met being the same person in the interview. He's still so upbeat. Her mind takes her back to a young girl, sobbing over a scrappy letter. The memory could be old, it could be recent. It was likely both. I guess I've been there… "This thing keeping him awake… it's the Dark Hour, right?"

Ikutsuki gives her a smile, "It would seem so. So, at the very least, he has been aware of the Dark Hour for the last ten years." He gestures a hand at Mitsuru, who flicks the monitor back on. On it, Makoto lies in a dark room, sleeping soundly in his bed. Peaceful.

"This doesn't explain why we're watching him sleep."

"Takeba." Yukari looks to Mitsuru, who turns to regard her coolly, "In your time talking to Yuki, how has he seemed?" Yukari shrugs. Like a normal guy, I guess. She says as much, and Mitsuru nods slowly, apparently satisfied with the answer.

"And there is the oddity." Ikutsuki lifts his arm to look at the watch on his writs. Tick, tick, tick.

The Dark Hour blooms in a moment, descending upon them like a damp blanket. Heavy and oppressive, and moving leaves the dew-drop tingle of mist on the skin. Yukari shivers, taking solace in the small flame within her that fights off the leeching atmosphere. She presses a hand to her chest and takes a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment. If she focuses, she can feel that gentle warmth within her. She opens her eyes and glances to Mitsuru, who simply rolls her shoulder and takes a breath. Ikutsuki barely moves, "There, you see." He speaks up, and points at the monitor screen. The image itself flickers, but then regains itself, powered by whatever special tech that Mitsuru's company had control of. Her dad's company, that is.

A corner of the screen leaks a thin trail of crimson, but the image on it remains the same. Makoto Yuki, fast asleep in his bed, "He has not transmogrified into a coffin. While he may be asleep, he is certainly experiencing the Dark Hour." Ikutsuki stands, "Plus, this confirms what we had already expected."

Can you talk straight, for once? "Which is?"

Mitsuru taps her chin with a slender finger and sets her pen down, "That he has the potential."

"Like, he has a persona?"

"Well, he could have. The potential to have." Mitsuru rubs at the bridge of her nose and adjusts her fringe to see the screen better, "If he didn't, the Shadows would have come for him long ago." Though none of them had yet seen the results of lingering in the Dark Hour without the potential, Ikutsuki had been sure to inform them that seeing such a thing is better avoided.

"And we're watching him because…?"

Ikutsuki smiles down at her, "Simply for confirmation and his safety. Nothing more than that."

I mean, if it's for his safety… She sighs, Still, watching him sleep just feels… creepy. She frowns and glances at the other two, who have begun to talk between themselves. If he gets a persona, he'd be able to join the team… Her eyes settle on the boy sleeping so peacefully. Undisturbed by the clammy, choking air of the Dark Hour. Undisturbed by his past. If he does, we have to be honest with him.

Yukari looks back down at the folder and flicks through the papers without focusing on them. Her brain conjures the image of a young, scared Makoto, all alone in a hospital room, not knowing who to turn to and who to trust. A knot ties in her stomach as the image changes to herself, sitting in her bed at home, crying for her father and listening to her mother chat up some guy downstairs

If he does, I have to be honest with him.

Makoto closes his eyes, a small smile on his lips. Knotting the rope had taken up a good portion of his free time, but it seemed strong enough and long enough for its purpose. He'd test it tomorrow, and actually be able to spend some time in his hidden hour. For now, he's left it coiled up like a large snake on his desk, next to his notebook.

Best get some sleep for the big day. Don't want to be too tired out there. He had once spent some time in his hidden hour on very little energy, and the experience was less than pleasant. He had left it feeling completely exhausted and had ended up sleeping through the majority of the next day. I want to enjoy it to its fullest. There'll be only so many times I can get away with this. He thinks to himself, planning. I'll wait until it's almost midnight, then throw it out and go on my merry way. I'll have to avoid any windows, but that shouldn't be too hard. Slip out of the alleyway and disappear into the night, return before anyone notices I'm gone.

Just a little walk. Who would it hurt?

He chuckles. Well, hopefully a lot of people. Hopefully me.

Yeah…

Makoto feels the thoughts start to leave him as he pictures roaming the gloomy streets of the city once more, getting into all its nooks and crannies during that most mysterious of times. To hell with the others, they can't enjoy it as he does. With that in mind, the world starts to fall away. He feels the soft bed beneath him become the softness of his body until all the world is a great cloud, wrapping around him.

And he's falling.

And falling.

And falling.

The darkness around him grows a shade lighter, and another shade, the deepest blue of night. Like closing your eyes after you've sat in the darkness for an hour. Makoto feels something press against his back. Something firm and decidedly un-bed-like. Ugh. He rolls over, but the firmness just moves underneath him. Something cold touches his cheek. C'mon, let me sleep already. He rolls back onto his back, missing the all-too-absent softness.

Something in the distance catches his attention. A gentle, soothing melody. Piano and strings, and a soft choral voice vocalising. Heard as though through a set of doors. Distant, but present all the same. Did I leave my MP3 on…? He doesn't recognise the track.

Makoto opens his eyes to try and find the source.

He then opens them wider. "What."

Above him he sees an infinite spray of stars, all moving slowly in a galaxial swirl. The brightest pinpricks standing out from what must be millions of others blending in sweeping arcs of stellar beauty. Deep purples and blues and greens and reds all mixing. They ripple and move and swirl like so many inks mixed and stirred. It stretches on forever, filling his vision.

Though only just. Out of the corner of his eye to his left, he catches a gentle glow. He turns his head and sees a cluster of small blue flowers turned towards him. Each flower has five petals and little yellow hearts, and each glow with a soft blue hue. What is this…? He sits up and looks down at the… earth… beneath him. Rich soil, with a bare ellipsoid where he was laying. Around him bloom countless flowers. Some are bushes of ball-like clusters of purple flowers, some pale pink blooms with wide open petals and a deep heart. A plant with deep crimson leaves which sprout tiny bright red flowers. Another group of tall, spiky flowers which appear to be a marriage of bluebells and lavender.

While none of them emit a scent, they all release a soft coloured light from their petals. With Makoto sitting up, they reach to just about his shoulders, and all meld together to become a small but beautiful garden of colour and light. This… has to be some sort of dream. He looks up again to look at the stars and shakes his head. If this is real, I've really lost it.

He digs a hand into the soil and lifts some up, crumbling it between his fingers. Soft and yielding and cool. It feels damn real. The silence is only broken by that distant melody, leaving him alone in th-

"Ehe…"

Makoto spins at the sound of a giggle, looking behind himself, "Wha-" He stumbles back, landing on his backside in the earth. His jaw hangs agape as he takes in his surroundings.

Where the flowers stop, the ground extends with a soft looking carpet, aside from a carved marble path which stretches in a straight line ahead of him. Incrementally, along the isle, long wooden benches are placed. Tall, tall columns reach up to the roof, which cannot be seen no matter how far Makoto looks. In fact, that vision of the galaxies seems to extend across the space above him, and the columns disappear within. Between the pillars hang long swathes of silk, which frame the walkway ahead. Everything in the space, outside of the wooden and stone fixtures, is a deep royal blue, with slight changes in hue here and there.

The space is not as wide as it is tall but is wide enough to easily hold a few hundred people. The walls themselves are decorated with carved wooden panels, each bearing an elegant curved design. At the end of the marble walkway, steps lead up to a wide dais, which catches Makoto's attention for several reasons.

Nose.

He stands and begins to walk along the aisle. On the right side of the dais stands a tall lectern in the shape of a great golden butterfly, frozen in flight. Atop the lectern sits a book, the pages of which occasionally flip as though caught by a wind Makoto can't feel. Behind the lectern stands a woman, who looks down at Makoto with an amused smile in her bright yellow eyes. The eyes almost seem to glow in the low light of the room. She has alabaster white skin and platinum blonde hair styled into a bouncy bob.

She's clad in an outfit of long and flowing silks, coloured in that same blue of the room. The fabric hugs her close, framing her body before the skirts float out at her thighs and swim around her ankles. She wears a pair of blue gladiator heels, which criss-cross up her lower calves and end in similarly floaty ribbons. Her shoulders are left bare, with sleeves starting at the top of her upper arm and ending just past her elbow. The fabric continues past that point and would leave her forearm bare were it not for a pair of long, blue silk evening gloves. The gloves expose her hands, with an embroidered design on the back connecting around her middle finger.

Noticing Makoto, she raises one of her hands and wiggles her fingers at him in what could only be assumed as a greeting. He gets the feeling this woman is where the giggle came from. Uh… Unsure, Makoto half waves at her, and looks across the dais.

Nose.

On the left side of the dais is a large stone bowl, carved with an odd symbol in the front. It looks like the letter 'V', which is surrounded by a pair of olive branches that arc from the bottom. The bowl itself would be tall enough to reach just beneath Makoto's chest. Behind it, stands a figure who looks down at Makoto with a gentle smile on his face.

He wears a tailored, deep blue cassock with gold piping along the edges of the fabric. It flares at the hip, and reaches towards his ankles, with two inverted pleats along the front which expose a lighter blue satin between them. Around his waist is a long, wide sash, which folds over itself to hang just to the left of his waist. The bottom of the sash has the symbol from the bowl embroidered in bright gold thread. Above the waist, the front is breasted with gold buttons trailing up to a high collar which hugs the man's neck. On his hands are pristine white gloves, and the cuffs of the cassock are folded back to reveal that same blue satin.

The man himself has the same snow-pale skin as the woman, the same bright yellow eyes and the same platinum blond hair. Though his is swept back into a crest of feathery spikes which curve behind his head. Seeing Makoto's eyes on him, the man smiles, touches a hand to his chest and gives a slow bow.

Nose.

The room ends just behind the dais, with the far wall dominated by a gargantuan stained-glass window. The window is circular, and almost spans the entire width of the room. The pattern is complex on the edges, a weaving and almost messy combination of brocade and fractals. It creates a ring which frames the central design, a black silhouette which dangles prone from a pattern of chains stretching across the window, marring the colourful ring pattern. The figure casts one arm to the sky, as though reaching for something. Their other arm dangles beneath them, resigned to its fate. A silvery light comes through the window, leaving shafts which frame the design of the figure.

Nose!

In the middle of the dais is a wide table nose, draped in a nose deep blue tablecloth with golden nose embroidery. On Makoto's side is a tall-backed chair, nose angled so that it doesn't obstruct the view of the nose figure on the other side of the table. Sitting on a simple nose chair is-

OH GOD WHY IS THEIR NOSE SO BIG.

Sitting on a simple chair behind the table is a creature who spoils the strangely ethereal beauty of the room. They are almost cartoonish in the extremes of their appearance. A pair of bugged-out eyes pop out from beneath bristly eyebrows. A disturbingly wide grin stretches their mouth. The top of their head is bald, and a shaggy mess of silver hair falls from the sides, brushed back behind tiny, elf-like ears. And slap bang in the middle of their face is the biggest goddamn nose Makoto has ever seen.

How do you even get a nose that big!? They wear a dapper black suit, with a thin black tie and a white silk handkerchief poking out from the breast pocket. By all accounts, they look like the devil's funeral director. The thought causes Makoto to pause as he approaches the stairs leading up to the dais. Wait, what if that's it? What if I'm… dead?

He reaches across himself and pinches his arm, frowning at the sting of pain. As he does so, the central figures grin grows impossibly wider. Can dead people still feel pain? And wait, if I'm dead, then where's this? He groans. Did I die in my sleep!? Oh god what a boring way to go! Come on! I didn't even get to experience it! He begins to climb the stairs. The three figures watch him approach.

As he reaches the top stop, all three of them incline their heads and intone, "Welcome… to the Velvet Room."

The what?

The central figure looks up, and stares at Makoto down the length of their nose, "Welcome, my dear, honoured guest."

A/N: Finally! I've been able to show off the new Velvet Room design!
Since, y'know, it's based around the guest, and this Makoto's journey is different enough to demand a different Velvet Room, and redesigns of the attendants to match.
That's right, attendants! Theo is here! Hooray!

The inspirations for the new Velvet Room should be obvious enough. It's mainly meant to be a chapel of some description, though you might catch a little inspiration from a church from a certain videogame which rhymes with Schminal Schmantasy Schmeven.
(I'm very tempted to commission someone for some artwork of the new design, particularly for the attendants. I'm quite pleased with them. If you can't tell.)

Aside from that, hooray! We've got a meeting with the Chairman, a chat with Yukari, and now Yukari knows. But does Makoto know that she knows?
The answer?

MAYBE.

Anyway, that's all from me folks. Thanks as always for reading, and I'm looking forward to hearing what you guys think!

Love,
Avalon