Dear Reader,

What is 'up'? How is 'it' hanging? Ahoy-hoy and so on. I believe I have not yet mastered the art of the epistolary opening, and must ask you to be patient. It is important that the opening to a letter reflects, in some small way, the unique personality of the writer, and perhaps the recipient as well. It is difficult for me to write in concord with such dictates, as I do not know your personality at all, reader, and fear I know myself hardly any better.

I spend a lot of time looking in the mirror.

Who am I? I say to it.

Who am I? The mirror says back.

I believe I asked you first. I say to the mirror.

I believe I asked you first. It responds quite rudely.

Please do not repeat my words; I am trying to have a civil conversation with you. I say to the mirror, pleading for decorum. But it just says the same thing back, and I find myself annoyed and turn to violence. Fuuka was very upset when she saw the bathroom mirror peppered with bullet holes, and we had to throw it away before Shirogane-san saw it. I was quite embarrassed by my behaviour, and requested Fuuka that I buy another mirror for her.

"But you don't have any money, Ai-chan," Fuuka said, looking puzzled and more than a little crosseyed.

She was right. As I do not need to eat or sleep, there is no need for me to possess currency. I do not know how to feel about this. I wish to become more human in everyday life, that is true. However, the brief period of time I have spent visiting Buddhist and Shinto temples in Tatsumi Port Island had made me understand the dangers of avarice, and that in my present state, I have transcended earthly desires. I am in many ways an enlightened being, but do not fret, gentle reader. It would be unbecoming of my nature to brag about such a feat. Perhaps you would be uninterested in money if you were a biomechanical anti-Shadow weapon also. It just so happens that you are not, and never will be.

Fuuka reassured me she would manage to replace the mirror by herself, but I knew this would not do. It is my responsibility to account for my crime. If I lacked the funds to purchase a new mirror, I would have to get a part-time job. The thought of this pleased me. Employment is a vital aspect of human existence, after all. Many people seem to enjoy their work more than they do spending time with their friends or family, so the possibility that I might enjoy something so much was exhilarating. I left for the city at once to begin the 'job-hunt'.

At first, things were difficult. Jobs are not like Shadows. They don't squirm around in muddles of black goo feeding on the unconscious fears of humanity. Or maybe they do so more discretely than Shadows do; I'm not sure. I walked the city streets for hours on high alert for the appearance of a job, but none answered my challenge. Perhaps there are certain perquisites one needs to have in order for a job to be summoned. I mulled over that thought for a while, then decided to consult Elizabeth, who I encountered once more at the local Chagall Café.

She was happy to see me, and immediately reminded me that I was to meet her outside the café at midnight tomorrow, on the coming of a full moon. I assured her I had not forgotten. (I had.) Her curious outfit appeared to be a uniform of sorts, but I did not know what is was she actually did as a job. I had asked her before about her working hours, and she could not respond. Today, when I asked her what it was she did, she could not explain it either.

I told her about my difficulty finding gainful employment, and she was touched by my struggle, though she could offer no specific advice. She never had to apply for the job she has, as it was something unique to her abilities. She suggested I might try to find a job that matches with my skillset also. This will prove difficult; I wasn't being paid for my role as an anti-Shadow weapon back when I worked with S.E.E.S at the Iwatodai Dorm. It seems I did not know my rights. With Tartarus gone, it is unlikely that I will get to fight any more Shadows in the near future, so I cannot hope to find a job in that field. I told Elizabeth my anxieties relating to this. She was silent for a long time, lost in thought.

'...I think I can help you in your quest, Aigis, if you help me in mine. Everything coalesces; at the coming of the full moon, you will find your answer, as I shall find mine. Won't it be wonderful?' Elizabeth then proceeded to lift herself onto the table at which we were sitting and jump up and down, cheering. She seemed happy. I was concerned we might be thrown out of the café, as Fuuka has regularly reminded me the importance of not making 'a scene' in public, but such social obligations did not apply to Elizabeth. She jumped, clapped and cheered; I found her enthusiasm infectious, and began to clap too. Being with her is almost as wonderful as being on a train. We renewed our friendship pledge over karaoke that night, singing "Don't Stop Me Now" by the band Queen, a song appropriate to our pledge that neither of us wanted to be stopped. It was a lot of fun — I was worried at first that I would not be a very good singer, but was reassured by Elizabeth not being a good singer either.

The night lit and faded like the sparking of a match, and I had to covertly return to Fuuka's side, using the lockpicking skills I honed breaking into His room. I know that Fuuka does not mind that I have to break into the apartment, just as I am sure she does not mind that I watch her sleep (though she doesn't know that), but I am concerned about Shirogane-san. I am not so sure they would be okay with things, and they are perceptive enough I may not be able to hide the truth from them.

Fuuka is snoring softly in bed beside me as I write this. I watch her and smile, remembering that nothing lasts forever. Except maybe me. I'm not certain if I am immortal or not. Anyway, the adage still applies. If circumstances drive Fuuka and myself apart, I shall have to keep the memory of our time together close to my heart. That is not where my memory banks are stored, but to become more human, I must imagine it so. I will stop writing now, so I can devote the hours before dawn hits fully to committing Fuuka's sleeping face to memory. I feel a little sad, but in a way that is happy also. I don't know if there are words for it. I hope I get to use them someday.

—Aigis