Friday, 9/9

"So a rich man and a poor man meet at a bar. Coincidentally, both their wives share a birthday on that very day. The poor man asks the rich man, 'What'd you get your wife?' And the rich man says, 'I got her a diamond ring and a Mitsubishi.' Poor man asks, 'Why that?' Rich man says, 'Because if she doesn't like the diamond ring, she can take it back to the store in the Mitsubishi and still be happy.'"

"Sorry, but I was just asking for-"

"So the rich man asks, 'What'd you get your wife?' Poor man answers, 'I got her a pair of slippers and a dildo.' The rich man is confused, so he asks, 'Why'd you get her that?' The poor man says, 'Because if she doesn't like the slippers, she can go fuck herself.'"

Tony the concierge waited through the awkward silence for Ren to laugh, yet nothing came.

"I just wanted to know what time the boats started operating."

"You didn't like the joke?"

"Please just tell me wha-"

"Did you or did you not like the joke?"

"It was fine."

Tony threw his burly arms in the air. "'Fine,' he says." Tony began walking towards the exit of the concierge's desk, moving to come around and speak to Ren. "I'll show you fine!"

"It was just a joke!" Ren said, backing away from the desk and towards the steps that led to the boat pick-up spot. "I just wanted to know about the damn boats!"

"You wanna know about the damn boats?!" Tony advanced on Ren, rolling up the sleeves of his collared shirt, revealing thick hair up and down his muscles. "C'mon, I'll take you to the boats!"

Makoto just finished changing into her bikini for the volleyball tournament when there was a knock on her door. Assuming it was Kawakami, Ann, or Haru, she casually went to the door. Twisting the silver doorknob open, she found quite the surprise.

"Don't laugh." Ren, sopping wet from head to toe, made a puddle just outside of Makoto's doorway. He had a sweatshirt that expressed his passion for Hawaii and displayed a lack of shoes. His specific instructions didn't help Makoto, who began to smirk. "Don't laugh, Makoto." Ren was so focused on taking himself seriously that he didn't even look at or comment on Makoto's swimsuit, disappointing her only slightly.

Makoto took a deep breath, averting her eyes from the mess Ren made of himself and to the view behind him. "Okay, I'm sorry. Not laughing." She paused for a few seconds so that Ren could believe in her lack of humor in the situation. "What seems to be the problem?"

"Uh… could I borrow your bathroom for a shower?"

"What's wrong with yours?"

Makoto finally shook off enough of the surprise at seeing Ren soaked to not worry about laughing. Making eye contact, Ren kept his answer simple. "Mishima."

Makoto rolled her eyes, shaking her head. She didn't care for Ren's distaste of Mishima, but she understood it, at least to a certain extent. Besides the Kamoshida situation, in which Mishima had been forced and abused by the corrupt teacher (so perhaps he wasn't to blame for his behavior), Makoto saw nothing wrong with Mishima. That being said, Ren was in the same class as him, so the chance of him having more perspective.

"Fine. Let me lay out some towels so you don't ruin the carpet," she said, motioning for Ren to hold the door open while she went back into the hotel room. Makoto grabbed two towels from the bathroom, and carefully laid out a short, fuzzy path from the entrance to the bathroom. At the end of it, Makoto beckoned for Ren to come in.

With enough caution to be a secret agent, Ren stepped over the towels, doing his best to make sure he didn't drip water everywhere and unintentionally make Makoto's life more difficult than he already had. On its own, the entrance door slammed shut. Ren managed to make it across the towel bridge and to the stone-tiled floor of the bathroom with no damage. Makoto picked up the two towels and tossed them into the bathroom with Ren, promptly shutting the door as he stepped in.

"May I now ask what on Earth happened to you?" Makoto called into the bathroom, waiting outside the door, leaning her back against the hotel wall.

The shower turned on from the other side of the door, yet Ren yelled back. "Long story. Can I tell you when I get out?"

…He's not going to tell me, is he? Makoto continued to doubt Ren on all matters truth-related, as her faith in her boyfriend had grown weaker with every passing moment in Hawaii. She knew that he knew that their relationship was strained by his behavior, yet the only move Ren made to reach out was to show up at Makoto's door covered in water.

Sighing, Makoto walked over to her king bed and flopped down onto it. She had just made the bed after waking up but didn't even care if she messed it up. Worrying about Ren tired her out, and his lack of communication worsened that. If he just tried a little harder, this wouldn't be a problem, Makoto thought.

She turned on the TV and patiently waited for Ren to finish his shower.

"Ann, my friend, my old pal…" Ryuji said with open arms, striding towards his fellow GRAVY member on hot sand. "Whaddya say to joining my team?"

"For the volleyball tournament?" She raised an eyebrow. "Neither of us know how to play." Ann occupied a beach chair, staring out into the ocean, waiting for Makoto and Haru, who she'd planned on spending the tournament with as spectators rather than competitors. Specks of Shujin students covered the beach, each assembling into teams for the school-organized tournament. It would be the last of the school-led activities for the vacation, albeit one that the school was barely involved in. Teams, rules, equipment, and nearly everything else were left to the students to figure out.

"Yeah, but we gotta represent GRAVY somehow, right?" Ryuji reasoned. "And I'm sure that we can find some other people who are good at volleyball, like- oh, speak of the demon." Ryuji ran off, yelling at someone in the distance. Ann, continuing to sunbathe on her beach chair, lazily turned her head and watched. "Mishima! Yeah, you! Wanna join Ann and I's volleyball team?!"

Oh no, Ann thought. Mishima always gave her creepy looks, even after Shiho kicked him in the jewels during their first year for doing so. Either Ryuji was intentionally antagonizing Ann, or he just didn't know. Well, it's Ryuji. It's definitely that he doesn't know.

Ann sent signal after signal to him, though she received nothing back other than Ryuji and his ogling eyes, especially in Iwatodai. Hooking up with that older woman gave him too much confidence, and his crushing defeat beneath Hifumi's heel humbled him far too much. At this point, Ann was starting to wonder if Ryuji ever had an interest in her. Maybe I should let Ren tell Ryuji… Ann thought to herself as Ryuji walked back over with Mishima in tow.

"Alright, three of six. Halfway there!" Ryuji said, dropping off Mishima at Ann's beach chair before quickly running off again.

Mishima shifted on the sand, standing awkwardly next to Ann. With his feet, he shuffled closer inch by inch. "So… come here of-"

Ann didn't even let him try. "Shut up, Mishima."

"Your shower is way nicer than mine," Ren muttered as he stepped out with a cloud of steam behind him that quickly dissipated. "I'm jealous."

"I bet," Makoto replied. Since Ren had got in the shower, she'd remembered to be angry at him and shored up her defensive replies in advance. Not looking at him, both for the sake of his modesty and because she wanted to have the conversational upper hand, Makoto kept her eyes on the game show that she'd turned on.

"I'm guessing you want the full story?" Ren said. She saw him sit down in one of the fancy chairs in the corner of the room, making the wise decision to keep his distance. "Oh, and I have one of the bathrobes on, so you can look, if you want."

Makoto didn't look. Instead, she just nodded for him to tell his story.

"Settle in, because this is a weird one," Ren began, building Makoto's anticipation. She didn't need it to be weird, funny, romantic, or any of that bullshit. She just needed honesty. "So after dinner last night, I went back to my hotel room, only to remember that Mishima freaks out when his room gets cold. Because we didn't have AC anymore, he couldn't keep the heat as high as he needed it, and Mishima tried to murder me when I went in. At the same time, Ryuji got locked out of his hotel room by his roommate. We met up and decided to figure out a plan together."

I honestly have no idea where this is going, besides the fact that Ren ends up in the water, Makoto thought, bracing herself for the long story.

"We went to the souvenir shop. I got a sweatshirt, he got a bunch of energy drinks. We tried going to the buffet, but it was closed, so we went to the pool. There were two hammocks so we just hung out in those until we fell asleep," Ren explained, pausing his story to make a correction. "Well, I don't know if Ryuji fell asleep, because he was chugging energy drinks, and was gone when I woke up, so I really don't know. Anyway, it was early enough that the boats weren't operating, so I went to the lobby to ask the concierge when they started, because I planned on coming here, to your room."

Makoto raised an eyebrow but didn't question the reasoning behind Ren's original plan.

"The concierge, Tony, this big, beefy guy with an awful hairline, tried telling me a joke, which I wasn't too happy about. However, because I didn't laugh at his joke, he took it personally, and decided to throw me in the canal."

That set Makoto off. Finally, she looked at Ren. "What?! That's a complete violation of hotel policy!" Sputtering over her frustration, Makoto continued her vocal display of anger. "That's assault! You should press charges."

"He told me that he does it to a new tourist every week, so I don't think that Shilton cares," Ren dismissed, quickly moving on in his story to take the potential court case off Makoto's mind. "Stuck in the canal, and with very few options, I decided I'd get some exercise in. I swam to the boarding area for the Palace Tower, and…" Ren let his whole story sink in for Makoto. "That's how I got here."

"You swam?! Ren, there's a reason that they use boats."

"Believe me, I know." Ren limply raised his left hand in the air. "I can't feel my arms, and I've had a stomach cramp for the past twenty minutes."

"Ren…" Now, Makoto felt awful for being cautious towards his arrival. He'd halted her plans of going to the beach for a reason, and she hadn't even let him make his actual point of being there. Makoto moved to the edge of the bed, sitting on the corner so she was now just a few feet from Ren. They finally looked each other in the eye. "You really swam here just to see me?"

"Well… yeah." Ren seemed a little offended by the simplification of his trial, but he didn't object. "And a shower, but mainly to talk to you."

"I'm assuming it's about your behavior these past few days."

Ren nodded, breaking the eye contact he'd worked so hard for. Now, as the one feeling sympathetic for the other, the lack of directness hurt Makoto, but she didn't waver. She remained focused on him, waiting for his gaze to return to her own. "I had another clinical trial." Ren looked to his right, staring out the unlocked window of Makoto's hotel room.

"And...? What did you see? I won't judge you."

"That's not the problem…"

"Then what is?" Makoto grew tired of Ren staring in the wrong direction. She was his girlfriend, trying to speak to him, and he couldn't even face her. "We agreed to be honest with each other. We've spoken about this multiple times."

"Makoto…" Ren's face contorted in hesitation as if his own muscles wouldn't let him speak. Nonetheless, he persevered and turned to face Makoto. "I saw you die."

Now's not the time to be joking around, Makoto immediately thought, but Ren's trademark grin was concerningly far from the forefront of his expression. Only solemn truth waited for Makoto when she analyzed.

"W-what…?"

Ren gulped, continuing in his hopefully poorly-timed joke. "During the start-of-semester interviews for third-year students that the student council performs, on the nineteenth, Yoshiro does i-it." Ren's eyes shook away from Makoto, who couldn't do anything but stare at her boyfriend. Ren's view sank to his feet.

He saw me… die? But… that's impossible , Makoto thought. Ren's complete lack of any emotion told Makoto of his honesty, but it also told her something else: Ren's vision was wrong.

"Ren…" Makoto needed eye contact. She dropped down from the edge of the bed onto the ground, getting onto one knee. Scooting towards Ren, she took one of his hands, trying to reassure him of her the truth she was about to speak. "That's impossible."

Ren looked down at her in front of him, his eyes watering at their edges. The sight spurred Makoto, but she knew she had to remain strong. "Makoto, I saw it! I saw him t-"

"The student council doesn't conduct interviews of any kind for third-years. Even if we did, there'd be no way that the school would let Takata get near me. Even if he still goes to Shujin, the staff knows to keep him away from certain people. Why do you think you barely see him?"

"I… but I saw it…"

"It's wrong, Ren. It has to be."

"But they haven't been wrong. They never have."

"There's a first time for everything."

Ren sighed, gripping Makoto's hand tighter than she wanted, but that didn't matter. What mattered was him opening up to her. She wanted him to know that she could comfort him when he was vulnerable and that that's how their relationship would be.

"Besides, do you really think anyone, even Takata, would attempt murder in a school? There are too many people around. Even if he got a finger on me, he would be stopped within seconds."

"I believed it… I saw everything…"

"It's alright, Ren. It was fake," Makoto said, keeping Ren's hand in her own but standing up. She came around the side of the chair so she could hug him, pulling his head to her shoulder. Whatever discomfort she would've gotten from Ren touching her bare shoulder evaporated at the moment. "It was a lie. You don't need to worry."

No longer able to see Ren's voice, Makoto only heard the cracks in his voice. "It was a lie… He lied to me…"

Keeping her voice calm and soothing, she ran a hand through Ren's hair. "Who's he, Ren?"

"I…" Ren sat forward, freeing himself from Makoto's clutches. In shock, Makoto stood up and backed away from the chair as Ren got his phone out. "I put his fucking name on the site!"

"Ren, what are you talking about?" Makoto demanded. His emotional decay turned into furious concern, and that sprang Makoto loose. She knew he'd left something out.

Makoto eased closer to Ren, watching over his shoulder as he opened a red page on his phone, rapidly scrolling through a list of some sort. In frustration, Ren turned off his phone and dropped it to the ground. "Fuck!"

"Ren, just tell m-"

Ren shot up from his chair, turning to lash out at Makoto. "I put Yoshiro's fucking name on the Prince's website! That was the first damn thing I did after I got home from the clinic!"

"You… you wanted him dead?"

"Yes! I wanted to save you!"

If the hallucination really was fake, then Takata is innocent. Ren's signed him up to die, and he's innocent, Makoto immediately realized.

"Ren…" Makoto wanted nothing to do with that website or the Prince. She instinctively scolded him, but the tremendous hurt across his face struck her. At that moment in time, Ren didn't need to be scolded.

Makoto grabbed her phone out of her bag, quickly opening the same page that Ren had with a quick internet search. The most prominent section of the crimson-red page was the list of suggestions, freely displaying every name written for the Prince to erase. Makoto scrolled and scrolled, hoping to find Ren's entry, only for her gaze to be caught on a number at the bottom of the screen.

There are millions of suggestions… and Ren's is one of them, she thought as a bizarre way of reassuring herself. No matter who the Prince was, no discernible way to search through the spam came to mind for Makoto. The chance of Yoshiro's name actually being used might as well have been zero. That means that I still have to worry about him, don't I? Maruki's counseling reports support that Yoshiro has done a complete one-eighty in terms of his behavior, but it couldn't hurt to make more of an effort to keep my distance.

Makoto relayed her thoughts to Ren but didn't look up from her phone. She didn't know if she believed herself. "I don't think you need to worry. There're millions of names on the site, Ren." Makoto couldn't shake the idea that she only told herself that because she didn't want to face what Ren had done.

He tried to get someone killed, Makoto , she thought, waiting for Ren's response. And he did it for you. Taking a deep breath, Makoto set her phone down on the same cabinet as the TV and walked toward Ren. But that's not what he needs to hear right now. The struggle Ren showed in confession the horror he saw sparked pity in Makoto.

She could withhold her slight reservations on Ren's actions so that he could be alright, couldn't she?

Makoto didn't know the answer, but she made an effort to understand. Slowly, she took Ren into her arms and hugged him. He flinched at the contact but soon returned the embrace.

"Let's just..." She couldn't find the words to say, besides thankfulness to Ren for realizing that he needed to be honest, even if it hurt. "Thank you for being honest."

"Thank you for listening," Ren mumbled from her shoulder, clutching her back in his arms.

"Do you want to talk about it more?"

"Um... I'd rather put it out of mind, at least for now."

"Okay," Makoto agreed, warming up her tone to help Ren begin. "Any ideas?"

"One or two."

"Ann!" Ryuji called as he trotted over to Ann's beach chair, new recruits in tow. She craned her head over, smiling at a pleasant surprise. "I found Haru, and that chick that Ren's friends with, Yoshizawa!"

The auburn-haired girl and noticeably shorter red-haired girl approached, each with different enthusiasm levels. Haru looked elated to have a beach day, while Yoshizawa seemed nervous, not meeting Ann's eyes. She stood out from literally everyone else on the beach by wearing athletic clothes instead of swimwear, specifically a sports bra paired with baggy athletic shorts.

Isn't she a first-year? Ann thought, confused about how the girl got to Hawaii, but not asking. Outside of their mutual friend, Ann only knew the girl from rumors, which she knew weren't something to judge a person off of.

Mishima had taken a seat on the sand a few feet away from Ann, mostly leaving her alone while Ryuji was gone, but he stood to bow for their new teammate. "Yoshizawa-san! It is a great honor to-"

"Shut up, Mishima," Ryuji quickly said, turning to Yoshizawa. "Don't mind him. He was on the volleyball team, so he's gonna carry us to the first prize."

That piqued Haru's interest. "There's a prize for the tournament?"

"This is just a rumor," Ryuji quietly began. Ann couldn't tell if it was for drama or if Ryuji actually didn't want to be heard. "...But I heard that the winner of the tournament gets first-class seats on the flight back, and extra credit on their grade when we go back to school."

"What? There's no way they can offer that," Ann said, not believing Ryuji. At this point, she had a natural inclination to oppose any idea Ryuji put forth as some way of denying to herself that she liked him.

"Like I said; a rumor," Ryuji reminded out of the corner of his mouth. "But even if there is no prize, sticking it to all those jackasses sounds nice, doesn't it?"

Ryuji's words only inspired Mishima. "That sounds great!"

Ryuji knew that Mishima's will for victory didn't mean much. He sighed, before turning to Yoshizawa. Looking back and forth between her and Ann, he spoke. "I already signed up for the tournament. We can't be a team if we don't know each other, so how 'bout we get our introductions straight?"

"I'm Yuuki Mishima! I like computers, playing vi-!"

"Wasn't talking to you," Ryuji muttered, turning to Ann. He gestured between her and Yoshizawa, inviting the obligatory introduction.

Ann sat up in her beach chair. "Hi, I'm Ann." Offering a wave with her hand, Yoshizawa bowed in response.

"It is very nice to finally meet you, Takamaki-san." Yoshizawa's red-ribboned crimson hair dangled as she held her bow for a time that surely exceeded the standard measure of respect, but she only rose after a full five seconds. "I hope I won't disappoint you all in the tournament."

"Don't worry about that, Yoshizawa-chan," Haru said. "It's about having fun, not about winning."

Ryuji made his contrary opinion very known "Nah, eff that. If we don't win today, GRAVY is getting disbanded," he said forcefully. As actual members of the club, Ann and Haru didn't take him very seriously, but one person on their team did.

"Then we'll have to give it our all!" Yoshizawa said, pumping a fist in the air. She clearly expected to rally the others, but their silent response forced her to shrink back into her shell.

We're gonna lose in the first round, aren't we? Ann thought to herself. I don't see how we can win when only one of us plays volleyball, and he's not very good at it, according to Shiho. Well, at least it's something to do. Maybe we'd win if Ren or Makoto played… hey, where are they? Makoto was supposed to meet me here five minutes ago.

We both deserve to have good memories of Hawaii, don't we? It was a simple rationale for Makoto and one that she repeatedly asked herself as she and Ren kissed. After their heart-to-heart, neither felt like going down to the beach, no matter how interesting a volleyball tournament sounded, so they decided to spend the day exclusively with each other.

The TV played some shitty 'Lord of the Pies' ripoff, but it wouldn't have mattered if something better was on. Both Ren and Makoto were a bit too occupied with each other for a movie. Not even a marathon of 'The Contraltos' would pull her away from Ren's face.

The first two days of a once-in-a-lifetime trip had been soured by emotional distance from her boyfriend; Makoto did her best to replace those memories with much busier ones, devoting herself to their moment together.

However, while Makoto continued to ask herself what the couple deserved, her plan to ease Ren's thoughts worked. Ren went from being a total wreck in a bathrobe to being her charismatic, affectionate boyfriend, still in a bathrobe, within the time that it took from their hug to their current kiss.

I can't ruin this, can't I? It was great. If anything, she knew that. It reminded her of her bubbling idea for Ren's birthday, heightening anticipation for it. The thought of upcoming dates did take her to the wrong place, however. Ren said that it was on the nineteenth… what if I don't make it that far? I do believe that his hallucination was a lie, as Ren called it, but… The possibility existed. If Ren's hallucination was a lie, couldn't Yoshiro just find another way to do it?

The thought scared Makoto enough into thinking that Ren putting Yoshiro's name on the Prince's website was a sane thing to do. He'd done it to protect her by striking Yoshiro first, but what if Yoshiro never would have done anything?

Too many questions and too many possibilities, Makoto thought, just continuing to kiss Ren back, laying with him on the bed.

"Good luck, Sakamoto-san."

Trash talk, or professionalism…? Hm… Ryuji didn't hesitate in choosing the more entertaining option.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Don't lose by too much, Kasai." The two team captains backed away from the net, each of them settling into the center of their side of the court, surrounded by teammates.

Kasai's team held the advantage of having a full-team for the six-man tournament, compared to Ryuji's squad which didn't have a full count, mainly due to Ren doing Ren things. Despite this, Ryuji and company held the advantage of having the greatest volleyball captain in the history of the sport. Not accepting a loss, Ryuji thought to himself as he settled into bent knees, waiting for the serve to come from the other side.

The tournament had decided on simpler rules than actual volleyball. Each match would be one round long to save time and would be played up to twenty-one points, with the first team to reach that total being declared as the victor.

Kasai himself tossed the ball in the air, jumping up, swinging his closed fist into the ball. It rocketed over the net, and the game was on.

Clutch moment after clutch moment came, with each member of the team doing their part to keep the score tied until the very final moments. Kasumi stretched and dove to save would-be scores, Mishima set up the ball for the taller members of the team, Ann distracted Ryuji, and Haru showed off her violent side with her vicious spiking ability. Over half of their points were scored by the heiress rising up above the net to rain death upon her enemy.

But it wouldn't be enough to win easily. With the score tied at twenty, the next point would end the match. Even worse, the other team was serving, putting Ryuji's team at a disadvantage. As the final serve came over the net, it spun towards the back right corner of the court. Its speed denied anyone the possibility of making a save, but one person defied all expectations.

Yoshizawa, the teammate Ryuji had assigned to the back corner due to her gymnastic ability, stayed cool and made the clutch play. Instead of going for a diving save to set the ball up for her teammates, Yoshizawa went for the win. She dove forward onto her hands, springing her body upwards into a flip, making sure to kick the ball as she hovered upside-down mid-air.

Caught by the surprise of the flip, the opposite team stood motionless as the ball sailed into the sand just as Kasumi landed from her flip.

The crowd erupted in time with Ryuji. "We win! We effin' win!" He turned to the losing team across the net, pointing at each and every one of them to rub his success in. "Eff you, eff you, eff you, eff you, eff you, and eff you!"

The greatest leader in the history of volleyball joined his teammates in celebration, huddling together and exchanging high fives as the crowd cheered.

It's so beautiful. I think I might cry tears of joy… Ryuji relished in his moment of victory, but three more grueling rounds of volleyball awaited before the team's success could be declared absolute.

"Ren…" Makoto pulled her lips away from Ren's.

He didn't reply, choosing instead to stroke Makoto's hair behind her ear. He knew it was a far cry from his previous behavior, but he didn't care. Makoto deserved his affection after what he continuously put her through.

And I kind of needed this for myself, not going to lie. It's been a rough couple of days.

Things weren't objectively better than they had been twenty-four hours prior. The only change had been Makoto and Ren resolving their distance, but the threats and questions Ren's hallucination produced remained in his head.

Yet Makoto didn't pursue further explanation from him. The fact of him leaving Yoshiro's name on the website had obviously upset her, but she'd moved on from it surprisingly quickly.

A little too quickly, if you ask me, but who am I to complain? I get to make out with the student council president.

Makoto made her reasoning for the break in the action known. "Is this… going further?"

Ren maintained eye contact, both of them still lying close together on the bed. Makoto still had her swimsuit on, but it didn't seem to be pressuring either of them or making things awkward.

"What do you mean?"

"You know…" Makoto glanced away from Ren, down at the bed, but only momentarily. Her red eyes met his again, continuing the bliss.

I think I do know, but…

Ren put on a fake smile of innocence. "I'm not sure that I know. I think you're just gonna have to say it," he suggested.

Makoto laughed, playfully hitting his arm. "Ren… you know what I mean. Are we going to go further right here, right now?" Crimson expectancy looked Ren in the eye, clueing him into what Makoto truly meant.

Uh… hoo boy. Maybe I really didn't know. But… the answer is definitely yes... Ren, you horny bastard, but show a little restraint, won't you? This does feel a bit fast, doesn't it? Especially considering, well, that you tried to have someone killed.

Ren gulp. If thirteen-year-old Ren knew he was going to be turning this down right now, he'd throttle his current neck.

Also, is it a bit offensive to say no? I mean, of course it isn't, but- ugh, fuck it, what do I know, right?

Ren chose the safest option, and that was to hopefully get his girlfriend to make the decision. "Is that what you want?" he asked.

Sheepishly, and with her cheeks now matching her eyes in color, Makoto nodded at Ren. "I think so."

Ah! Opportunity strikes!

"Well, you shouldn't think so. You should know so," Ren said, happy that he didn't have to be the one to put the moment away.

Again, Makoto nodded, but the practice she'd gotten only added to her confidence. "I know that I want this."

Fuck! I mean, yes! But also, fuck, because I don't think I'm ready for this…

"Makoto…" Ren thought each through his several-trillion options, pausing momentarily. "I think we're moving a little fast."

Aaaand here comes the argument, then break up, then dra-

"Okay, that's perfectly fine," Makoto said, smiling at Ren and killing every last one of his brain cells with pure joy, only to revive them. "We have all the time in the world." As Ren absorbed those words, he reflected back on everything that he knew about the hallucination.

We have all the time in the world… do we? The nineteenth is in less than two weeks, and Yoshiro's name is permanently on the website. If the Prince does act on that suggestion… I don't know what will happen. I could tell that Makoto wasn't happy about me leaving his name, but I had to, right? Maybe the hallucination got the method and date wrong, but it told the truth about Yoshiro wanting to kill Makoto before graduating. Fuck, I don't know anything. I hate feeling like this, the uncertainty is killing me.

Makoto's voice shook Ren back into the real world. "Ren? Are you okay?" His eyes focused on her face, reminding him that he needed to enjoy his vacation up until its end.

Just save the misery for when we fly back, okay?

Ren kissed Makoto on the forehead, getting a giggle out of her. "Never better."

"Let's clutch up, and get this win, alright, guys?!" Ryuji said into the huddle, his teammates gathered around him. "They don't have shit on us! None of them have blonde hair like Ann, gymnastic skills like Yoshi-Z, strange outbursts of violence like Haru, pure sexiness like me, and, uh… blackish-blue hair like Mishima!"

Yoshizawa and Haru cheered, but the other two members remained unmotivated. Ryuji could admit that they wouldn't have made it to the championship round without Mishima, but he still didn't like the guy. Ann didn't add much to the team besides moral support and the occasional save when the ball came her way.

The group broke their huddle and set themselves up on their half of the court for the final volleyball match of the day. Mismatched teams across the whole tournament kept the games speedy, as most teams didn't have the talent to continue a back and forth. Besides the close matches that Ryuji led his team to, almost all the other games were blowouts.

The team that had been the most dominant waited on the other side of the net, all of them tall, lanky, and dumb-looking. They're perfect volleyball players, Ryuji thought to himself, smirking. Their team was primarily made up of members of the most prominent club for Shujin second-years. They held no specialized purpose compared to the other clubs, only offering members a wide-ranging social experience and help with studying, yet they were pretentious enough to call themselves Independent Shujin Intermediate Students.

Most Shujin students kept things simple and just called them ISIS.

As the second-years of the volleyball team had been barred from leaving Japan by everyone's favorite counselor, ISIS had the most athletic talent pool of any club due to how many members they had. They proved themselves as the most formidable foe in the tournament, absolutely crushing the souls of all their opponents.

But not us, Ryuji thought to himself. We're just built different. They can't compete with that.

Unlike the rest of the matches, the championship game had one change: instead of the first team to twenty-one points immediately being declared the winner, the first team to be up by two scores after twenty-one points. For example, a score of twenty-one to nineteen would win while a score of twenty-one to twenty would mean that the match would continue until either team was up by two scores.

As all the other games began before, the opposing team's captain tossed the ball up for a serve. He hit it with the palm of his hand, arcing it over the net, and signaling the start of the championship match. Each Shujin student on the trip crowded the edges of the court, risking interference but not caring. Ryuji could tell who they were rooting for based on the cheers, but he counted on that.

We're the underdogs! No one wants us to win, no one thinks we'll win, and no one thinks we have the talent to win. But we will win, and then I'll rub it in each and every one of their faces , Ryuji thought as he set the ball up for Haru to spike it.

Over and over, both teams made plays for the ball, stretching their abilities to their limits. Ann ate some sand to keep the ball alive at one point, saving a crucial point early in the game. The captain of ISIS had a vicious spike, using it again and again, only to be stopped by Mishima, always in the right place at the right time. Haru attempted her own spikes, but they were blocked by ISIS's tallest player. Yoshizawa even got a few flips in, but ISIS was prepared for her tricks after her heroics earlier in the day.

Even to the end, the close battle continued well past the regular point total. With the score tied at thirty to thirty, Ryuji served the ball. He made up for his lack of power and accuracy with sheer luck, placing the ball into ISIS's back left corner. Ryuji moved forward in the court to counter the inevitable response.

As his high-arcing serve hit the ISIS captain's arms, Ryuji knew he effed up. ISIS's leader got a perfect bounce to another teammate, who set the ball up for what seemed to be a go-ahead spike.

But Mishima, again in the right place at the right time, stopped ISIS in its tracks, albeit through unconventional means.

As the ISIS player loomed over the net, swinging his fist into the ball, Mishima stood his ground as the ball rocketed towards him. In a valiant act of heroism, Mishima took the volleyball directly to his face. The crowd gasped, yet the match continued. With a thump, the ball ricocheted in the air, setting up Haru for the unhinged violence of an Okumura spike.

A similar result played out on the other side of the net. Ryuji and company had no time to rest as ISIS set up another spike with a new player at a new angle jumping high above the net and clubbing the ball.

In slow motion, Ryuji watched as the ball spun towards the blue-haired teen yet again, lining up another perfect shot to his reddening face. The ball smacked him in the forehead, again bouncing up in the air for a spike. Mishima stumbled backward as Haru hit the ball over the net. After one last stuttered step, Mishima collapsed backward onto the sand, his eyes shut.

Holy shit! He passed out! Ryuji couldn't check on him, though, as the whistle wasn't blown and the job wasn't finished. Again, ISIS put together a string of hits for one last spike, aimed directly at the area of the court Mishima was supposed to cover. Ryuji anticipated the telegraphed spike, and dove as the ball rocketed towards the ground to save it.

Again, time slowed as Ryuji got closer and closer to sand in his face with outstretched hands. Just a few inches from his hand, the ball went over and time accelerated, with Ryuji crashing into the sand thinking that ISIS scored on them.

Instead, Ryuji heard a thud, a gasp, then a cheer from the crowd. Ryuji pulled his head out of the sand to see that the ball was deflected up off of Mishima's unconscious face, setting up Yoshizawa perfectly.

Ryuji blinked sand out of his eyes as Yoshizawa spun and flipped, just as she'd done before, and kicked the ball into the back corner of ISIS's side, bouncing off the sand. The crowd erupted in cheers and applause, with Kasumi landing from her flip and shyly taking a bow. Ryuji pushed himself off the sand, blinking grains of it out of his eyes, and got himself up.

Brushing off his shirt, Ryuji looked at the crowd surrounding the court. In the blink of an eye, they'd gone from ISIS supporters to diehard Mishima fans, cheering him on to get up and keep playing. Unfortunately, Mishima stayed passed out on the ground.

With the score at thirty-one to thirty, another point for Ryuji's team would mean victory. Without their most clutch player, that would be a tall order, but Ryuji had faith. Extending his arms outward, he gestured for the crowd to get louder. They obliged him, shaking up ISIS and their captain.

With the ball in hand, the leader of ISIS shied into the back of his team's side of the net, ready to serve to the four-man team. Ryuji smirked as the captain nervously looked around at the crowd, who relentlessly hurled insults his way. "Serve the effin' ball!" Ryuji called, getting a cheer from the crowd in response.

ISIS's captain shook his head, but he complied. Following his usual motion, he tossed the ball in the air and wound his body up. He unleashed his fist into the hardest serve of the day, grunting like a female tennis player in the process. Ryuji would've laughed if the ball wasn't on a fast track to take his head off.

Instead of trying to dodge, Ryuji put on a brave face and moved to bat the ball upwards with his joined forearms, but something prevented him from doing so. Out of nowhere, a long, pale hand came into view from Ryuji's right. The ball smacked directly into the palm of the sickly hand, bouncing enough to cover the short distance it needed to go over the net.

Out of confusion, nobody in ISIS tried to stop the ball from thudding against the ground.

The eff?! Ryuji looked to his right to see the savior of his volleyball team, Yusuke Kitagawa.

His tattered white shirt and pants blew in the wind as he stood motionless in the center of the court, every eye on him. Taking the hand that he'd batted the ball with, Yusuke raised a fist in the air, punctuating the awkward, confused silence that dropped onto the beach.

"The Sakamoto Squad wins!" Yusuke firmly proclaimed.

Ryuji expected people to boo and mob Yusuke for ruining the game, but the exact opposite happened. The crowd rushed the court, cheering for Yusuke and the greatest volleyball team captain that the world would ever know.

No matter what he expected, Ryuji joined in as the mob got to him, lifting the champion onto their shoulders.

Ryuji knew that this would be the peak of his life, so he relished in the moment. "Eff ISIS! Eff ISIS!" he chanted, getting more and more people to join in with every repetition. Soon enough, the whole section of the beach had unified in their hatred of ISIS.

Ryuji crowd surfed, seeing the rest of his team being passed around in the same way. Even Yusuke, despite not playing in any of the matches, got some love. Mishima's motionless body was carried atop the crowd, all of them celebrating his heroic sacrifice, yet he would never know the true extent of the adoration.

"Eff ISIS! Eff ISIS!"

"Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"I think it's coming from outside."

Begrudgingly, Ren got up from the bed and walked over to the hotel room's window, dragging the blinds to the side with one finger to give him a full view of the beach below. Looking down, Ren saw a massive crowd, all jumping around and cheering. Several crowd surfers rode atop, but Ren couldn't make out their f-

Wait a minute…

At the exact center of the crowd, Christ was reborn in the form of Yusuke. Unlike the other crowd surfers, he stood atop the crowd, letting his arms extend out.

"What is it, Ren?" Makoto asked from behind him, still on the bed.

Ren could hear the cheering, but not well enough. He opened the window and let the sound in.

Faint chanting could be heard, and things made even less sense. "Eff ISIS! Eff ISIS!"

"What the fuck did we miss?"

"What?! What's going on down there?"

"Looks like they're forming a mosh pit, denouncing terrorism, and Yusuke is pretending to be Jesus."

"That's the least believable thing you've told me today," Makoto said with a laugh.

"Tell me about it…" Ren pulled out his phone and quickly snapped a photo. He was planning a major Shujinstagram post at the end of the trip, hopefully compiling the best parts of the trip into one area. Now, Yusuke's Christ-like moment was saved forever.

"Do you want to go down there?"

"Hm?" Ren turned back to face Makoto, putting his phone back into his pocket.

"Would you want to join them down at the beach?"

"Nah," Ren said, going back to the bed and sitting next to Makoto. He put his arm around her shoulder. "I think I'll spend the day here with you."

"Good answer."

Saturday, 9/10

"Mishima, where's my suitcase?"

"I don't know… I went on demon time, and-"

"Dude, don't give me that bullshit. Where's my suitcase?!"

"I'm telling you, Amamiya-san, I don't know! I blackout when I go on demon time!"

Ren pinched the bridge of his nose so that he didn't use the same hand to bitch slap Mishima.

I spend two nights somewhere else, and I come back to no suitcase?! I've been wearing a bathrobe for a whole fucking day!

Ren stayed the night with Makoto, easily slipping into sleep next to her with an episode of 'The Contraltos' playing in the background. They'd woken up late that day, past noon, with Ren ready for a day of getting his shit together and kicking back. Ren's time with Makoto greatly eased his mental commotion. While questions, threats, and possibilities always lingered, Ren now fought back against them. They didn't overtake his waking life like they had in the days prior, and he planned on taking full advantage of that by having fun with his friends.

Unfortunately, there wasn't jack shit to do. The resort offered a program where tourists could swim with dolphins, but it cost more than the plane Shujin would be flying home on, so that wasn't an option. Shujin had no planned activities after the volleyball tournament, leaving the students with a full day for themselves before they flew back on Sunday.

Ren really wanted to spend that day with friends, but he couldn't walk around the resort in a damn bath towel, and he especially couldn't let Mishima of all people ruin his Hawaii trip.

Taking the good cop approach, Ren calmed his voice. "Just stop fucking with me. We agreed to a truce, so just tell me where you put my suitcase."

Mishima pleadingly maintained innocence. "I don't remember putting it anywhere, I don't remember anything!"

Sighing, Ren gave up on the good cop act, remembering how easy it was to have his way with Mishima when he utilized his reputation. "Look, Mishima, you remember why I came to Shujin?"

"Erm… yes."

"Then you know that I'm gonna throw you out the fucking window if you don't give me my suitcase."

Mishima took the threat to heart and immediately ran past Ren, cutting into the hotel room's bathroom, slamming the door behind him. Ren heard a click, and he knew that he wouldn't be getting his suitcase any time soon.

"Fuck…"

No use pounding on the door. If Mishima's scared enough to run in there, then he's definitely too scared to come out.

Ren didn't want to go out in public wearing a dirty bathrobe, so he elected to waste his day. Plopping down onto his queen-sized bed, Ren turned on the TV. After only a few seconds of boredom, Ren reconsidered his laziness.

Maybe Ryuji's down to hang out.

Ren pulled out his phone and shot Ryuji a text.

Ren Amamiya:

-Wanna hang out?

Ryuji Sakamoto:

-Sure, where are we meeting?

Ren Amamiya:

-My hotel room. I'll probably ask the others to pull up.

Maybe Ann or Haru could convince Mishima to cooperate. If not, well… nothing happens then. I hate Mishima, but am I really going to attack him for stealing and hiding my suitcase? No.

Ryuji Sakamoto:

-Bet.

In just a few minutes, Ren heard a knock on the door. He went through the motions of opening the door and greeting his guest, with Ryuji taking a seat at the foot of Mishima's bed and joining Ren in watching the TV. Boredom quickly settled over both of them.

"Am I gonna have to ask, or are you gonna tell me?" Ryuji asked, turning his head to face Ren, who laid down on his bed and continued watching TV.

"Tell you what?"

"Why the hell are ya wearing a bathrobe?!"

"Oh, yeah…" Ren chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "Long story short, Makoto gave me the bathrobe yesterday, I came back here to get some new clothes. Turns out that Mishima hid my suitcase while he had his little meltdown, and-"

"It was not a meltdown!" a muffled voice said from the other side of the bathroom door. "I was on demon time!"

Ryuji turned to Ren, his confusion growing. "I have so many questions."

"Choose three."

"First, why the eff is Mishima in the bathroom?"

"He got scared because I was upset over him losing my suitcase and locked himself in there."

"Second, why'd Makoto give you a bathrobe?"

"Because the concierge threw me in the canal."

"Third, di- wait, what?!" Ryuji's jaw dropped. "Tony threw you in the canal?"

"Minor disagreement. Next question."

"C'mon, man! You gotta give me more than three questions after dropping that bomb!"

"I could just not answer any questions."

"Fine…" Ryuji took a few seconds to sort through all the questions and pick the best one. "Did you and Makoto make up?"

"You could say that."

"Whaddya mean by that?"

In response, Ren kept his mouth shut and blankly stared at Ryuji, leaving the meaning up to interpretation.

"Dude…"

Ren put his hands in there, acting defensively, but staying reserved. "I didn't say anything."

"You're telling me that-"

"So what'd you do today, Ryuji?"

"Huh?" Ryuji's train of thought had been completely sliced through, and the change of subject worked perfectly. "Oh, uh, Ann asked me to walk along the beach with her, and see the concert stage that's getting set up."

"Wait, now it's my turn to ask questions!" With every passing day, Ren inched closer and closer to trapping Ryuji and Ann in a room until she beat him over the head. "Ann asked you to spend time with her, and you're here?!"

Ryuji shrugged. "Yeah, man. Walking is boring."

"You've gotta be kidding me."

"And the stage they're setting up sounds lame as hell, too," Ryuji said, completely missing the point in Ann's invitation. "Apparently, the band is called the Nipple Nibblers."

It's better than naming your club after a terrorist organization, at least.

"Can you believe that he just said, 'Nah, I'm good.' Like, who the hell does that?" Ann asked, continuing her rant about Ryuji. "Does he have a problem with me? Is there something wrong? I can't tell with him.

"It is Ryuji-kun, so I do believe it."

Makoto's room became the hangout spot for the feminine half of GRAVY, with Haru and Ann joining the student council president. Makoto sat on the edge of her bed, just in front of the table where Ann and Haru both pulled up chairs.

Makoto, not fond of hearing about Ryuji's lack of romantic ability, elected to change the subject. "Did you hear that a band is playing on the beach tonight?"

Unfortunately, Ann made sure that there was no escape. "Did I hear about it? I asked Ryuji to go!"

The only person who understood Makoto's perspective was Haru, who helped in trying to change the topic of conversation. "The band sounded rather crass, and I don't believe they'll perform very well."

"It might be fun just to go, though," Makoto countered, bored by the empty day. Shujin's lack of planning for the final full day of the trip, and the resort's expensive tastes, left everyone with very little to do, given that they didn't have the money to pay for any of the resort's offered activities.

"True. I suppose we could check it out," Haru said, agreeing with Makoto.

Just as they finally got through Ann's complaints about Ryuji, a knock came from the door. Most visitors to Makoto's room were teachers, barring Ren, so she immediately got up and went to answer the door.

Upon opening it, she realized that certain things could surprise her more than Ren showing up unannounced and soaking wet.

Before her, Yusuke stood clothless, with only his familiar speedo upholding his modesty. Pale skin was covered in red scratches, small bite marks, and dirt. The possessions that he brought with him made things even stranger. In one hand, a white plate of steaming, delicious-looking brownies, and his other hand gripping the top of a suitcase.

Makoto couldn't muster any remarks besides a greeting. "Um… hi, Yusuke. Can I help you?"

"I come bearing a gift," Yusuke said, though not offering said gift. "May I come in?"

I should refuse, shouldn't I? Makoto initially thought, but slowly reconsidered as Yusuke patiently waited for her response. Yusuke is very strange, but he usually does mean well. It can't hurt to let him in, right?

Makoto fully opened the door to let the artist in. He dragged the suitcase behind him, holding the brownies out in front so that it would be the first thing Haru and Ann saw.

It worked. "Yusuke, you brought us brownies?" Ann asked, completely distracted from Yusuke's damaged form.

"The jungle offered me a gift, and I accepted."

"Uh…" Ann wasn't sure how to respond, but she didn't get upset over Yusuke's strangeness. As he set the brownies down on the table that she and Haru sat at, Ann's smile grew wider and wider.

"If I may ask, Yusuke-kun, where are your clothes?" Haru questioned.

Turning on a dime, Yusuke stepped right in front of Haru and looked down at her. "Not everything that goes to the jungle returns to the light."

Makoto walked over, just in time to hear Yusuke's answer. "Um…" With her mind blanking on what to say, she went with the obligatory option. "Thank you for the cookies."

"Thank you for accepting them, Makoto. It gives me great honor." Yusuke bowed his head for Makoto, but only momentarily. "Regrettably, I must bid you adieu. I have another calling."

Ann described all of Makoto's feelings about the situation with no actual words. "Er… okay?"

Yusuke briskly walked out of the hotel room, still dragging the unexplained suitcase behind him, leaving the girls to the plate of brownies.

"Did that just happen?" Ann asked.

Haru, eagerly looking at the brownies, answered. "Indeed it did."

Makoto pulled up another chair to the table, letting the smell of the brownies waft through her nose. The smell wasn't as rich as any of the fresh brownies she had before, but they still looked delicious.

I would question where he got the brownies, but… it's Yusuke. I bet he just took them from the buffet, or something similar, Makoto thought to herself.

"Ya know, sometimes I forget how we became friends with him," Ann said, though not as an insult to Yusuke. Makoto could hear the genuine curiosity in her friend's voice.

"Ren and I met him at the park after he ate some wild mushrooms and puked enough for us to notice him."

"Oh… I guess that explains everything about him," Ann joked, laughing. "At least he brought us brownies." Ann initiated the first grab of brownies that followed, with all three of the girls biting into their brownies at the same time.

The first to finish chewing was Ann, and she became the first to voice her opinion. "These… kind of suck."

As Makoto and Haru both swallowed their first bites of the brownies, they arrived at the same conclusion. "They are rather bitter for brownies."

"I know…" Makoto set her brownie down, disappointed in its taste. "How do you mess brownies up this badly? They taste like they have no sugar in them." Ann and Haru both nodded with agreement. "And the aftertaste is really holding out… ugh."

The three sat together at the table, stumped as to why Yusuke gave them such terrible tasting brownies.

After the unexpected knock on the door, Ren cautiously pulled the doorknob.

"I come bearing gifts," Yusuke said, but Ren immediately dismissed his words. Behind him, Yusuke dragged Ren's suitcase.

"Where the fuck did you get that?!"

Yusuke rolled the suitcase to Ren, giving him control of the handle. "The jungle takes, and the jungle returns accordingly," he simply said.

"Uh… sure, dude." Ren wanted to check if everything in his suitcase remained untouched, but he had another burning question. "Is that a plate of brownies?"

At this point, I'm so adjusted to Yusuke that I don't even care that he's covered in marks and only dressed in a speedo when he's not even swimming.

"Why yes, it is!" Yusuke said, inviting himself in while carrying the large plate of brownies in one hand. Even as Yusuke passed him, Ren could smell the rich sweetness of the freshly hot brownies. He followed Yusuke, setting his suitcase to the side, next to the cabinet that the TV was propped upon.

Yusuke, naked except for the bathing suit, sat across from Ryuji at the little table that all hotel rooms came with. Ren noticed scratches on the artist's back, but he knew that any question he asked would only provoke a more confusing answer. He chose to keep his mouth shut.

Ren took the last remaining seat at the round table, looking at the plate of brownies with intent eyes.

He's weird as fuck, but he does give us brownies. Yusuke is the best of all of us, even if he kicked me in the balls.

"Yo, Yusuke," Ryuji said, greeting his friend with a salute, likely for winning the volleyball tournament the day prior. Ren had been regaled with the tale over and over since dinner from the previous night, as Ryuji cherished the victory during every waking moment. "You brought brownies for us? For real?!"

"They are indeed for real," Yusuke said, grabbing a brownie. Yusuke took a bite, getting a few crumbs on the table, but still enjoying his snack.

"Shit, what can't you do?" Ryuji said, grabbing one of his own and taking a bite. Ren took one for himself as well, biting into it.

Damn… this tastes like ass.

"Mmm… that was quite scrumptious."

"First of all, these taste like used effin' diapers," Ryuji said, smacking his lips to get over the horrid taste. "Second of all, who the hell unironically says scrumptious?"

Instead of answering, Yusuke continued savoring his brownie. He quickly finished, then grabbed another, continuing to eat the disgusting disappointment.

It still tastes god-awful, but if Yusuke's going that hard with them, maybe I'm just tripping and they aren't that bad.

Ren took another bite and proved himself very, very wrong. They tasted worse the more flavor settled into his mouth, getting worse with every bitter chew.

"I bring you brownies and your luggage, yet you abstain from eating them," Yusuke remarked as he swallowed the last of his second brownie. Just before he bit into his third brownie, he added one word. "Curious."

Is that a threat? I mean, probably not, but the way he said it… shiver me timbers.

Ren did feel a little bad for disliking the brownies. Yusuke had done him a great favor in bringing back the luggage, no matter how he got it, and the brownies were a generous gift. Despite the awful flavor, Ren pushed through his first brownie.

You know, after forcing myself through one and getting used to the taste of elephant diarrhea, the brownies aren't that bad. Maybe I'll have another.

Even Ryuji finished his first brownie and went for a second, albeit begrudgingly. He looked like he was near the point of tears with how much he squinted his eyes as his teeth bit into the corner of the new brownie. Despite all their efforts, twenty brownies remained neatly stacked into a pyramid on the plate.

We're never going to finish these, are we?

Despite the awful taste, they continued eating.

"I'm feeling a little light-headed. I think I might go back to my room a little early for the night," Ann said.

"What?" Haru didn't like the sound of that. "But we haven't even gone to dinner yet!"

"Actually, I'm also feeling light-headed," Makoto said. As she blinked her eyes, it felt heavier, more impactful. Her light-headedness had gradually faded in over the past half hour as the girls just hung out and talked. Unlike other headaches, however, Makoto felt no pain. Her head just felt good.

The same sensation crept up her lower body, alternating between a slow, throbbing pulse and a rapid buzzing feeling across her body. She hadn't questioned it at first, but it grew stronger with every passing minute and Makoto grew concerned. Maybe it's food poisoning, Makoto initially thought, also considering the idea that she'd accidentally drank some of the tap water.

"Now that you mention it…" Haru didn't even need to finish her sentence. She held a hand to her forehead. "Strange. It doesn't feel like a fever…" Makoto gave her friend a confused look as the heiress kept her hand on her forehead but began stroking her fingers across it horizontally. "Hey, guys, try rubbing your forehead!"

"Um…" Makoto tried to raise an eyebrow, but her forehead felt physically spent, for some odd reason that Makoto couldn't understand. Maybe Haru's idea of a forehead massage wasn't such a bad idea…

Ann and Makoto joined in, each of them dragging their fingers across their foreheads. The three sat in silence, aside from Ann expressing disbelief at the feeling. "Woah…"

This does feel really good… Makoto continued rubbing her forehead, closing her eyes to just sap in the touch of her fingers. Finally, with a jolt, she realized how weird she must've looked. The forehead rubbing had only heightened the buzzing across her whole body, and Makoto felt it growing rapidly out of control. If I think that rubbing my forehead isn't weird, then… um, what was the point I was going to make?

Growing nervous at the loss of her train of thought, Makoto took initiative. "I think we're all just a little tired," she said, going over to her bed. "I'm going to sleep."

With one pat on her forehead, Haru nodded her head. "I think I'll do the same, but I'm worried about not eating dinner."

"You know," Ann said through chewed bites of a brownie, "these really aren't that bad. Maybe you could take some with you for dinner."

"Ann? Could you toss me a brownie?"

"Toss? Like throw?"

Makoto giggled. Toss, like throw , she thought. She watched as Ann underhanded a brownie onto the bed, getting crumbs all over it.

"Th-thank you," Makoto said, taking a bite of the brownie. "Hm, you're right. These are pretty decent."

"Yeah, don't mind if I do," Ann said as she grabbed five of the brownies. Haru matched her, leaving Makoto with four brownies left. "Alright, Makoto, I'll see… well, I won't see, but…" Ann stopped talking as a giggle stepped in the place of words. "I leave."

Makoto eagerly waved to her friend. With every shake of her hand, the buzzing feeling went back and forth, finger to finger, jumping across with Makoto's movement. Even after Ann walked out the door, Makoto kept shaking her hand back and forth just to enjoy the feeling.

"I believe I'll be lea- oh!" Haru had attempted to walk out but stumbled over nothing. Luckily, she caught herself on the corner of the wall that separated the bathroom and normal area. Giggling, Haru held her balance using the wall as she walked out. "Goodbye, Mako-Taco!" she called back, with Makoto hearing the door close seconds after.

Left alone with nothing but a TV playing, Makoto had one thing on her mind: I need more brownies.

"You ever just, like… touch your knees and," Ren, sitting against the wall on the hotel room floor, slammed his palms down on his knees and yelled, "god damn!"

"Dude… every effin' morning." Ryuji, though much more slowly and delicately, lowered his palms to his knees. As he sat next to Ren against the wall, he slowly rubbed his knee caps. "I be like, god damn, my knees!"

They both laughed, continuing to rub their knees. Over the course of the past ten minutes, Ren grew more and more aware of his decreasing IQ and a strange feeling rising in his body, like he could feel all the blood flowing in his veins, but in a good way. It created a buzzing sensation that punctuated every movement, especially in his knees.

"Yusuke, my man, how many brownies do we got left?" Ryuji called over to the artist, who sat against the wall across the room from the dynamic duo. They had already gotten through the full plate that Yusuke brought

Yusuke pointed at the propped-up suitcase next to Ren. "My knees detect another serving within the suitcase."

Shit… always gotta check the suitcase. Yusuke's good at thinking. I'm alright at thinking, but I could be better. Kawakami should help. But in her maid outfit! That would be great. I would love to do that. I should call her tonight and see if she can stop by! Oh fuck! I'm in Hawaii! Kawakami is in Japan! I'm dumb!

He didn't remember that Kawakami was, in fact, in Hawaii and was the adult responsible for him not making a complete ass of himself.

Ren laughed at himself as he grabbed the suitcase and laid it across his lap. He unzipped it from both ends. Opening it, he found the hidden treasure.

Not just a plate, but the entire suitcase had been filled with brownies from end to end. Ren guessed that there must've been a few hundred, but he couldn't remember how to count, so he gave up pretty quickly on that idea.

"Ror feal?!" Ryuji yelled, grabbing a few brownies for himself.

Just as Ren began to carve out a few brownies for himself from the suitcase, Yusuke stood up on the other side of the hotel room. Taking perfectly straight steps towards Ren and Ryuji, he stopped in front of them.

"I have to go return some videotapes."

With that, Yusuke cartwheeled to his right, opened the hotel door, and walked out.

Ren and Ryuji, still sitting next to each other, slowly turned their heads to make eye contact. When they finally did, Ren spoke, but not to Yusuke's impressive physical feat. "Wanna start a business?!" Ryuji asked, and they both burst out laughing.

Their fit lasted for a full minute, with both of them repeating Ryuji's phrase back and forth until they didn't have enough air to laugh anymore. Finally settling down, Ren wiped tears from his face, enjoying the feeling of liquid on his cheek quite a bit. He was about to tell Ryuji to start crying just to feel the same thing, but Ryuji stood up and looked straight down at Ren.

"Red bean bread and milk!" Ren burst out laughing again but kept himself together enough that he looked up at Ryuji. "I need red bean bread and milk!" Ryuji shouted down at Ren, before turning and running out the hotel door.

Hm… red bean bread is really good. I had some that time at the water park. Oh, that was the day that I got a job working at Leblanc! Or… wait, no, that was the day that I hung out with Yoshiro! Wait, that's not right… When was it? Hm… eh, shit-balls, time is weird. I give up, and I'm going to eat more brownies!

On pleasantly shaky legs, Haru opened the door to her luxury room, courtesy of her chaperone status, to pitch blackness. She could see the blinds on the other side of the room blocking the evening light but didn't remember closing the blinds before she went down to Makoto's.

Strange, she thought as she took a bite of the last brownie she had from Makoto's. She had eaten the others on the way over, as food had suddenly become the most desirable thing on the planet. Haru even considered dialing up the front desk for some room service, but the last time she tried to do so, the concierge told her a rather vulgar joke, at which point she hung up.

"Hello? Is anyone in the scary darkness?" Haru asked, walking forward in the room. She could see vague outlines of the furniture, but nothing definitive. Reaching out, she touched the edge of the bed. "Mm… soft." Haru took a moment to just lean her hand into the blankets of the bed and enjoy the feeling but stopped when she remembered she actually had things to do. "Lightswitch… turn it on. Turn it up!"

She recomposed herself as best she could, walking back towards the entrance of the room. Dragging her hand across the grooved wall, she searched for the light switch that must've changed positions, because Haru simply couldn't find it.

As she continued to move her hands across the wall, still without any luck, Haru began to flood with panic. What if she couldn't turn on the lights? What if she couldn't go to bed? Was she going to have a heart attack? Maybe every cancer at once? All possibilities seem rational, and she began to hyperventilate. Haru backed into the wall behind her, slowly sliding down as she clutched her cheeks with her hands.

Breathing in and out, Haru's black vision did nothing to help. Nearly at the brink of tears, Haru continued her meltdown, now worried that she would miss her flight if she died before then. The downward spiral only got worse until…

"Haru, can I talk to you for a minute? Me and the other faculty members was wonderin', could you do a lil' som- somethin' beautiful, somethin' that the kids is gon' love when they hear it?" a voice whispered from the darkness. Sniveling, Haru looked up for its owner, but the darkness protected them. "That's gon' make them start jumpin' up and down, and sharin' candy, and stuff." No matter how Haru moved her head, it didn't adjust where the voice came from, because it always seemed to be at the center of her brain, resonating outward. "Think you could do somethin', for the kids, for graduation to sing?"

With the tingle that had taken over her body growing stronger, Haru continued trying to find the speaker in the darkness. "Who's… the visitor?!" she called out to her seemingly empty hotel room. She didn't know if that's how words were typically strung together, as she'd forgotten how to do so, but she believed she got the message across.

A smooth, monotone voice crawled from the depths of the hotel room into Haru's brain. "Oh, yeah… I got the perfect song for the kids to sing," it said, getting louder in Haru's head, before breaking into melody. "And all my people that's drug dealin' just to get by…"

The bright lights flashed into the hotel room from every direction, overloading Haru's eyes, but not enough to prevent her from seeing the truth of the situation.

At that very second, Haru saw God.

"Wowowowowowoooow…" Ren sat against the wall, still unmoved since his friends had left him alone. His bathrobe had grown to itch, but Ren didn't take it off because he lacked basic motor functioning skills. The only thing he could do was pretend that he was a plane on the way back to Japan. "Bwooooooow, kneeeeeeew!"

Hehehe, I'm like a baby, but sixteen. No, seventeen. No, sixteen! My birthday is in two weeks! Oh boy, oh man! Hehehe!

Ren had long stopped eating brownies, as the brown color made it seem like he was eating squares of dirt. He'd grown so paranoid of the texture and taste of the brownies, that he legitimately thought he was eating dirt on his final brownie. He gave up on the task of filling his stomach, elected to close the suitcase and slide it out of reach, just in front of the bathroom door.

"Here comes the airplane, Renny!" Ren continued sitting on the floor making plane noises, blissfully unaware that he had hit a new low point. "Bwowwwwowowowow!"

The next several minutes were filled with more of the same, as Ren enjoyed the vibrations rolling through his lips, stretching across the rest of his face. He didn't make the choice to stop, but because someone interrupted him.

"Hello?" a voice said through static. Ren looked around, not seeing anyone with him in his hotel room. "Ren? Is it really you?" Those last words made Ren realize something: the voice was coming from under him.

Ren sent the vibrations from his face into his arms, momentarily propping his body in the air so he could reach under himself and grab his phone. Upon doing so, he flopped back down against the wall and looked at his phone.

I must've dialed them with my butt… interesting. Very, very interesting. Quite fascinating. It makes one wonder. I can't help but consider. Truly fascinating, indeed. Mm… sensational.

Thoughts of a remarkably nimble ass that could mold itself into a shape specific enough to use a phone filled Ren's head until the voice reminded him that there was a conversation to be had over the phone. "Helloooo?"

"Um… uwah. Ren speaking!"

"Oh, Ren… I knew you would call one day!" the woman said, gasping at the end of her sentence.

Who, when, where?

Whenever he tried to read the caller ID, the letters swam across his screen, so he asked aloud, hoping he wouldn't upset the caller. "Which hoe is this?"

"Ooh, so assertive," the woman cooed through static, which took away any sexiness that she would've had. Purring into the phone, the woman continued falling for Ren. "Am I your hoe now? Because I'd like to be…"

Ren literally voiced onomatopoeia to the phone. "Erm, cough, I have an apartment. Arrangements, and such."

"Is that an invitation?"

"Name first, please!"

"Playing hard to get? I like it," the woman said. Ren could tell she held the phone closer to her mouth than before because her heavy breathing grew louder. He wanted to tell her to shut the fuck up, but no reasonable gentleman with hoes behaved that way. "Remember me? Ayumi Takata?"

Hoo boy.

"Oh yeah. You helped me bully your son!"

"Mm… that sounds hot… tell me more about how we're gonna roleplay."

Role-playing? That's my favorite genre!

"I'll take the knight class so I can tank damage, you can go as a druid so you can wear no clothes and maybe cast a big bang spell every once in a while," Ren explained to the phone, having long disregarded that there was a real person on the other end. Simply, Ren didn't care in the slightest. "It's a fire-proof pl- fuck! I mean, it's a full-proof plan!"

"Yeah? You're a knight with a big giant… sword and I'm just a slutty little druid?" Pleasant sighs came from the other end of the line, but Ren was too far gone to realize what was happening.

"You can cast Knights of the Round, right, and that'll summon, uh… who was it? Oh, the knights of the round table, and that'll kill the boss in one hit!"

"Mmmmm, one and done? I think you can do a little better than that…"

"Uh…" Ren had no clue what she was talking about, as Knights of the Round was the best option in 'First Reality VII.' "Well, I guess we could both grind to ninety-nine, get the ultimate weapons, and max out our party damage per turn, but that'll only help us beat the final boss. We'd still need to figure out a way to get through the super bosses."

Ayumi moaned loudly from the other end. "We're gonna grind and get ultimate toys? You're so naughty, Ren…"

"You're the naughty one for not wanting to use Knights of the Round, but okay, if you say so." Growing bored of his hotel room, Ren wanted to move on to bigger and better things, but his lack of motor function kept him seated. Considering that he had a lifeline, Ren decided to use it. "Yo, bitch, I can't move the lower half of my body. Mind helping me get going?"

Ayumi seductively laughed, continuing to flirt. "That's right, call me your bitch!"

"Um… bitch, how do I use my legs?"

"I'm more worried about your third leg, but I suppose I can wait…" Ayumi purred. "Just put pressure down on the ground, and your legs should work fine. Not that you'll be needing to do anything other than laying down when I'm around…"

Ren scooted his feet towards him so that his knees were bent. Pushing down, he slowly slid up the wall into a standing position.

Holy shit! Ayumi's a genius!

Ren shuffled his feet sideways as he leaned against the wall, taking him closer to the door. His bathrobe itched against his back as he rubbed it against the wall, but it felt good rather than irritating. It combined with the buzzing in his knees to send waves of pleasure to his brain.

Upon reaching the door, Ren found himself in a new quandary. A big metal object, shaped like a hook, had put itself on the large wooden door. A little scared of the large hook, Ren backed away from the door. "Um, Ayu- I mean, bitch," Ayumi moaned through the phone, but Ren didn't notice as he continued talking, "there's this metal thing on my door. What do I do?"

"I can show you my metal thing, if you know what I mean…"

Ayumi's lack of help frustrated Ren, who was growing genuinely upset. "No, bitch, I'm alright, but I do need you to tell me how I kill this metal thing."

"Oh… well." All flirtation drained out of Ayumi's voice, now sounding more parental and serious. "What is it?"

Finally getting some help, Ren jumped at the chance to explain. "It's shaped like a hook, and there's a jagged hole in the middle, but I can't s-"

"You mean a doorknob?"

Oh, that's what that is?!

"Shit, you're right!" Ren said, holding the phone to his mouth. "Okay, bitch, I gotta go!"

"Wait! Just keep talking longer so-" The phone beeped as Ren hung up. He had enough sense to put the phone in the pocket of the bathrobe as he twisted the doorknob and pulled the door open.

Stepping out into the breezy, Hawaii evening, Ren took a deep breath and looked both ways down the aisle of hotel rooms. To his left, there were rooms. To his right, there were rooms and an elevator, and a group of-

Oh! I know her! I didn't know I was in Japan! Wait, no that's not right… she's in Japan, I'm in Hawaii. Wait, that's also not right… holy shit, she's in Hawaii with me right now!

"Kasumi! Yo! What's up!" Ren ran towards the strangely dressed group at the elevator, directly towards the red-haired gymnast. Each person in the group was a girl dressed in black tracksuits with a red Shujin logo on them.

Kasumi turned around to face Ren as he ran towards her. "Senpai?" As he finally reached her, he grabbed her hand, not realizing how it must've looked to the ten other girls who now gathered around the pair. "Are you… um, your eyes are-"

"I'm great, the best, never better, awesome, splendid, swell," Ren said, out of breath from all the synonyms. "I was wondering if you could take me there."

"Erm…" Kasumi was clearly uncomfortable with Ren approaching her in just a bathrobe and with her teammates around, but Ren had no common sense or decency. "Where is… there?"

"You know… there!"

"I'm afraid I don't know," Kasumi said, just as the elevator dinged in the background. All whispering amongst themselves, the girls loaded onto the elevator one by one, leaving only Kasumi outside the elevator. She turned to look at her teammates. "Um, I'll meet you guys at the bus, okay?" The girls continued whispering as the elevator doors closed, letting Kasumi turn back to Ren and speak very slowly. "Senpai, I don't know what's going on with you at the moment, but you need to tell me how I can help you."

"Um…" Ren was at a loss for the name of his destination, so he described where he wanted to go. "There's a big bed, a window, and a TV. There's a bathroom, too. It's where I got this!" Ren said, showing off his bathrobe. "Whaddya think?"

Instead of validating his fashion sense, Kasumi ducked to Ren's side and tugged on the bathrobe. He tried to pull away from her, but his weak muscles didn't have the strength. "Hmm… it says on the tag that this is from room four-twenty. Here, I'll take you there now." Kasumi took Ren's hand and led him to the elevator. She pressed the button, letting a silence settle over them as the elevator came back up.

"Senpai, are you sure you're alright?" Kasumi asked yet again, also providing clear evidence of Ren being not alright. "You're wearing a bathrobe."

"Sounds like someone is j-e-l-l-y," Ren teased, twirling in his bathrobe.

Kasumi didn't know what to say, but she did take two steps away from Ren.

The elevator dinged with its arrival, and the duo stepped on. Ren retreated to one corner of the elevator, while Kasumi stayed near the buttons. She pressed one, and it lit up.

"Could you press all of those?"

"The buttons?"

"Yeah… make them light up."

"Senpai, I'm not going to do that."

"Aw… bummer."

As their destination was only one floor up, the elevator quickly stopped and they stepped out. Kasumi, this time not taking him by the hand, led him to the right of the elevator. They passed many doors, with Ren trying to peek in the little hole for a few of them, but Kasumi tapping him on the shoulder to keep him moving.

Hehe! She's tapping me because she likes me! That's what Makoto said! Aw… that actually sucks, because I already have a girlfriend, and Kasumi's about to see her. Quick! Tell her that you have a girlfriend and that you guys should just be friends!

Ren's delusions grew strong enough that he became downright cruel, stopping just as they reached Makoto's door. Kasumi knocked, and Ren spoke. "Kasumi, I'm sorry to break the news, but I already have a girlfriend. I know you like me, but we gotta just be friends, just pals, just buddies. Know what I mean?"

Kasumi's eyes widened, and she turned to face Ren directly. "Um… senpai?"

"I just don't like you like that. No hard feelings, but you have really nice hair, though."

As out of his mind as he was, even Ren could tell that the tears welling in Kasumi's eyes meant she was upset. Suddenly, she shook away eye contact as the door to Makoto's room opened.

"Have a nice trip, senpai," Kasumi said through gritted teeth as she passed Ren and went back to the elevator.

Makoto stepped out onto the walkway, looking past Ren at Kasumi. Ren looked her in the e-

God damn, her eyes look like blood! Ooh, spoooooky!

"Hey, Makoto, how ya doin'?" She opened her mouth to respond, with Ren giving her ample opportunity, but Makoto just shook her head and closed her mouth. "Wanna hang out?" Ren asked.

"Erm…" Makoto looked up at the sky. "Woah…"

"Okay, sick!" Ren walked past Makoto and into the open hotel room, leaving the door open so she could join him when she was done bird watching, or whatever she was doing.

"Hey! Mister!" Ryuji said, trotting up to the middle-aged American man and getting in his face. "Do you have red bean bread?!"

The man didn't speak any Japanese and gave Ryuji a concerned look. Shaking his head in disappointment, Ryuji back away before running up to the next person he saw. "Hey! I bet you have some red bean bread!"

This woman actually spoke Japanese, but she shook her head for no. Again, Ryuji's hopes and dreams were shot down in a blaze of glory. I really might die if I don't get red bean bread… dying probably sucks. There's just nothing… and darkness… and, most importantly, no red bean bread! Count me out of dying, Ryuji thought as he aimlessly kept walking.

He'd forgotten the layout of the hotel immediately after he left Ren's room, yet he walked far enough that he didn't even half to take the boat around the canal to get to the lobby area. Seeing a familiar face, Ryuji approached his friend at the front desk of the hotel.

Tony the concierge noticed Ryuji, cracking a grin. "There he is!" he said in his accent, yet in perfect Japanese. Tony really didn't seem like the type to be bilingual, but Ryuji loved a good surprise, so he didn't mind.

"'Sup, T, I need some help fin-"

"Woah, hey," Tony said, lowering his voice to a hush and leaning forward over the desk. He stared into Ryuji's eyes before his face reddened and devolved into a scowl. "Are you high?

"Nah, but I'm tryna find some red be-"

Tony's expression softened, gazing longingly down memory lane in the distance. "You know, me and my friends used to sneak around in high school, smoking weed, chasing skirt, even when we were supposed to be at practice for varsity ball."

Ryuji, fried out of his mind, took one look at Tony's out-of-shape figure and noted his heavy breathing. "Doesn't seem like you have the makings of a varsity athlete, but could you help me find some red be-"

"What?!" Tony's head whipped to face Ryuji, his eyes full of raging hatred. "You say I don't have the makings of a varsity athlete? I go out on a limb for you, and you say that shit to me?!" Tony began pacing around the desk, rolling up his sleeves as he rounded the corner and started his approach to Ryuji.

You should run, man… like, now! Ryuji thought before he pivoted and sprinted in the opposite direction of Tony.

Ryuji ran and ran through the wide halls of the hotel resort. He had long outdistanced Tony the concierge, but Ryuji had no destination planned. He just kept running without stopping to ask the confused people around him for some red bean bread.

The rooms had changed enough that Ryuji was only able to find one recognizable thing in sight: the resort's souvenir shop. He peeked over his shoulder, not seeing the raging concierge, before he ducked inside.

Lights are bright! Who turned them on?! Hehe, turn on, Ryuji thought, stumbling between aisles of Hawaiian clothes and gifts. He looked around for their red bean bread section, but there wasn't one in sight. Naturally, his only option was to scream until someone handed him some red bean bread.

"Red bean bread! Red bean bread! Red bean bread!" Ryuji yelled, standing in the center of the shop and not moving. The few customers in the store all judgingly glared at the noisemaker before they left the store in frustration. The poor woman at the cash register looked like she wanted to quit then and there, but she couldn't.

Eff ISIS! Eff ISIS! Eff ISI- wait, I mean red bean bread! Red bean bread! Red bean bread! The only other voice chanting with Ryuji was his own internal monologue, but it gave him enough support to keep yelling.

"Red bean bread! Red bean bread! Red bean b- oh, hi Mark," Ryuji said as Mark walked up to him. "What've you been up to?"

Mark's bushy blonde pigtails dangled sideways as he leaned against the door of the souvenir shop. "Ryuji… do you know where my hotel room is?"

"Mark, don't be silly! You're an American, and Americans don't believe in hotel rooms!" Ryuji said, getting close to Mark and squeezing his shoulders while enthusiastically looking him in his bright blue eyes. "'Cause the American dream, duh!"

"Is my name Mark?" Mark asked himself, looking away from Ryuji, then to the ground. "No, I… what is my name? I think I forgot."

Ryuji lightly slapped Mark's cheek. "Mark is Mark."

Mark nodded, agreeing with Ryuji. "Mark is Mark."

"Damn right! Now help me get some damn red bean bread!" Mark complied, walking further into the souvenir shops. His thin, fit figure swayed as he went down the aisles with Ryuji following closely behind.

Damn… Mark is kinda hot, Ryuji thought to himself. Marky-Mark-Markety-Mark… oh, you.

Ryuji sang quietly to himself as he looked around, freestyling a melody off the top of his head. "Red bean bread, dibble-dobble. I heard what you said, kibble-cobble. Yo mom is dead, spittle-swaddle. Red bean bread, gibble-gobble."

Suddenly, Mark stopped walking, and Ryuji couldn't stop walking. He continued singing to himself as they collided and Mark fell forward, with Ryuji following suit. He hit the rack holding up a line of sweatshirts, sending it toppling over. Ryuji collided into the heaping pile of sweatshirts, laughing at the warm, fuzzy feeling on his face.

"No, no tickling!" he said, giggling in between his words. "I just want some red bean bread!"

"Ryuji, what is red bean bread?" Mark asked, laying in his own mess. He'd fallen into another rack of green sweatshirts. The duo had decimated the nice setup that the souvenir shop featured, not even aware of their actions.

"I don't get paid enough for this," the cashier said to herself before she came out from behind the register and walked out of the store. Ryuji and Mark were completely alone in piles of clothes, blissfully laying on the ground and staring up at the bright, round lights.

"Red bean bread isn't something tangible. It's an idea; a movement. Red bean bread is the light at the end of the tunnel."

"That didn't help."

"And you haven't helped me find some red bean bread!"

"Well, golly, sue me, Ryuji," Mark said sarcastically. "I just like fuzz. It feels nice. Oh, and I have someone who can help find some red bean bread!"

"You do?!"

Mark, holding his phone, extended his arm straight in the air. "They're inside my phone!"

Ryuji hummed his mood out, letting the pile of sweatshirts absorb him. I think I shit my pants, he thought, yet he did nothing about it.

"She got a light-skinned friend look like Michael Jackson," Yusuke melodically rapped to Haru, his voice low and suave. "Got a dark-skinned friend look like Michael Jackson…"

Yusuke had spent the past twenty minutes rapping at Haru, who hadn't moved since her tear-stricken breakdown. She sat against the wall, staring up at Yusuke with her fried eyes, just enjoying the show. He'd dispelled any of her panicking thoughts of missing the flight home or randomly coming down with shingles.

Yusuke's bars altered styles and shifted so often that Haru was completely lost on what was going on. She guessed that Yusuke was performing a whole album of material, acapella, to her at that very moment, but she didn't have the critical thinking to decipher that. To her, Yusuke was just rapping to no end.

Oh, and he occasionally danced and did backflips off the hotel room wall.

More time passed, with Haru entrenched in her seat. Yusuke had practically hypnotized her with his motions and verses, making things move faster than they actually were.

"Yo fuck you, Haru, first and foremost for making me do shit," Yusuke said, pausing his interpretive dance for a moment. "Muh'fucker…"

Haru, at the mention of her name and with no understanding of the context, clapped her hands and cheered. "Woooh! Go Yusuke!"

The raps continued. Yusuke fluctuated aggressiveness, energy, and spirit throughout, changing his dances to fit the mood. At one point, he rapped fast while doing the worm. It was truly a spectacle and one which Haru was glad to witness.

Songs grew more moody and somber, with Yusuke even dipping into completely singing at one point.

"Hey mama! I wanna scream so loud for you!" he said with open arms, looking up at the ceiling. "'Cause I'm so proud of you, and let me tell you what I'm about to do! Hey mama!" Yusuke's voice trembled as he sang, growing shakier as the song went on. Haru appreciated Yusuke giving his full dedication to the song, but she didn't want him to be sad.

Luckily, the tender moment ended on a dime.

"Yeah, you know what this is!" Yusuke said, thrusting his hips like the King of Pop. "It's a celebration, bitches!"

Haru didn't think it would ever stop. Yusuke continued with no end in sight as if he didn't even need to breathe. After a few more songs, Yusuke stayed rapping, but with a simpler, less wordy style.

"Wake up, Mister K, Mister K, Mister Slay, Mister dive-in-the-Tokyo-bay. I mean, damn, did you even paint today? You did shit, motherfucker, shit; 'Lil Wayne. And yes, barely paint any and every way, going to ballet, stealing another's paint," he said in quick succession, getting in Haru's voice as his head bobbed to the beat in his head. "I guess this is my dissertation, homie this shit is basic, welcome to graduation!"

More time passed, with Yusuke returning to his combination of rapping and singing in his monotone voice. It didn't sound great, but Haru didn't care. Yusuke's passion for his lyrics and the raw feeling of his acapella performance was more than enough for Haru. She would regularly clap and cheer on Yusuke as he went.

"And I'm back on my grind, a psychic read my lifeline, told me in my lifetime, my name would help light up the Tokyo skyline," Yusuke rapped, punching the wall as he over-enunciated every line-ending syllable. Haru subconsciously ground her teeth to the beat. "And that's what I'm, seven O'clock, that's primetime. GRAVY'll watch, Ren calling from the hotlines, why he keep giving me hot lines? I'm a star, how could I not shine?"

Oh my… I have teeth! Haru rubbed her tongue along the interior of her mouth, trying to count her teeth to see if she had them all. Hm… it seems that I have twelve teeth. That doesn't sound round, square, or right… square.

Yusuke thrust his head downward, meeting Haru only inches from her eyes. His nose pressed into hers as he continued his verbal barrage. "How many ladies in the house?! How many ladies in the house without a spouse?! Something in your blouse got me feeling so aroused!"

Haru forgot about her missing teeth. This is so beautiful… such raw emotion. As Yusuke pulled his face away and went back to singing the chorus to the current song, Haru smiled with joy and cheered him on.

"Go Yusuke-kun!"

As God stood before her, rapping, Haru realized the meaning of life and shed a single tear. With the buzzing in her head and through all her muscles, Haru sapped up all the pleasure and good feelings around her, escalating her happiness to its peak.

She never wanted the acapella performance to end.

Mark sat up in his pile of hoodies, surveying the almost abandoned wasteland of a souvenir shop. Piles of clothes covered the floor, with the knocked-over racks resting atop, and with Ryuji residing in one of them. At that moment, he was trying to make a snow angel in a pile of hoodies, letting out squeals of joy as his limbs went back and forth.

Mark pressed the phone to his ear. The ringing ended with a click and a, "Hello?" from a girl on the other end of the call.

"Hey, Shiho, it's me, Mark. I was just wondering…" Mark forgot what he was wondering. Pressing the phone into his shoulder, Mark turned his head to Ryuji. "Hey! Ryuji! What was I calling for!"

With one hand, Ryuji pointed straight in the air. "Red bean bread and milk!" he said in a high-pitched voice. Mark figured the lights would've shattered at the pitch, but they held strong.

"Shiho, I want red bean bread and milk!" Mark repeated into the phone.

"Um… Ann?" Shiho's confusion got through to Mark, but he was nice enough to help her out.

"What? Who's Ann? It's just Mark and Ryuji here!"

Ryuji continued his snow angels and high-pitched voice. "Damn right, hoe!" he called from his little nook of the souvenir shop.

"Ann, is everything alright?" Shiho asked. "Ryuji isn't torturing you to act like this, is he?"

"Whaaaaaat?! Noooooo!" Mark bellowed into the phone. "We just want some red bean bread-"

"And milk!" Ryuji squealed.

"Um… you guys are still in Hawaii, right?"

"Yep!"

Shiho had no clue what was going on, but she tried to be helpful. "Then I don't know any shops where you could find it, but maybe you could order from Roof Runner."

"Oooh, Roof Runnerrr…" Mark cooed, liking how the brand rolled off his tongue. "Roof Runner… Roof Runneeeeeeer… Roooooof Runner… Rooooooooooooof Ru-"

"Ann, could you please stop?" Shiho cut in. "I'm really worried about you right now."

"Why do you keep callin' me Ann?" Mark said into the phone, a big ol' grin on his face. He played with one of his pigtails, twirling it around his index finger while he talked to Shiho on the phone. "The only person in my head is Mark, and the only person who'll ever be in my head is Mark! Marky-Markety-Mark, Snarky-Snarkety-Snark!" she yelled into the phone, wheezing for breath from the laughter.

"Alright, Ann," Shiho said. "Call me before your flight tomorrow, okay?"

"Baba-Booey," Mark replied, hanging up the phone and putting it in his pocket. He turned his head to face Ryuji. "Hey, do ya know how we use Roof Runner?"

"The eff is Roof Runner?"

"I thought you would know."

In silence, they stared at each other, their faces revealing nothing. At the same time, smiles widened on their faces before they burst out laughing. "Rooooooooooooooof r-r-r-r-r-runner!" Ryuji said, mimicking a chainsaw.

They continued their abolishment of the souvenir shop as a fine establishment, blissfully ignorant to their behavior.

"Aye, it's me," Ren said, holding his hand out while pinching his index and thumb together. "I want… gabagool."

"Nononooooo, it's more like," Makoto interrupted, mimicking Ren's motion but improving upon his Italian accent. "Ayyye, it's-ah me… Gimme the gabagool!"

Ren laughed, giving Makoto's shoulder a squeeze. Once again, they were on the bed of her hotel room, watching 'The Contraltos.' Makoto had scooted under Ren's arm and let her head rest on his shoulder as they watched, constantly laughing at whatever was on screen, funny or not.

Through it, Ren used his free hand to rub his knees. It felt better than any sensation he'd ever known and ever would know, so he fully indulged himself. Ren hadn't moved his hand off his knee, except for his gabagool joke, the entire time he'd been with Makoto.

They were quite lazy in their haze, opting to just enjoy the touch and company of their partner instead of wasting their energy on other things. Ren did wonder what his other friends were up to, but he knew they couldn't compare to watching mafia television with the student council president.

Ren's eyes grew tired, with his blinks growing longer and the burning getting stronger. He knew that he should go to sleep, but he didn't want to waste the time with Makoto, even if he realized that most of their small talk had been complete gibberish.

"Blih-blah?"

"Hugen magonn. Shupen tipquota marsallenue."

"Ah, wentrix," Makoto said, nodding as she rubbed her head into his shoulder.

Ren craned his head, hurting his neck in the process, down to Makoto's. He kissed her forehead and whispered two words into her ear.

"Flank steak."

Their moment together was complete, eternal, and perfect.

Yusuke's performance went through increasing variety and experimentation as he went on, yet his lyrics remained beautiful, thought-provoking, and emotionally potent.

"Choke a volleyball player with a fish dick!"

His dance moves increased in scope, now beginning to use the full space of the luxurious hotel room to his advantage. He flipped around on the bed, kicked the wall several times, pressed his face to the window for a kiss, and he even wrapped himself in a blanket from Haru's bed just to perfectly unravel it within a fluid spin.

The whole time, Haru cried tears of pure joy.

"I miss the sweet Yusuke, puke at her feet Yusuke," the artist rapped, getting in Haru's face yet again. She hadn't moved from her sitting position, but the hypnosis had long robbed her of motor functioning. "That's all it was Yusuke, we still love Yusuke, and I love you like Yusuke loves Yusuke!" He booped Haru's nose with his bony index finger, prompting a giggle from the heiress before he backed up and went back to dancing.

More songs, all of them shorter than the average song length for the evening, were performed until Yusuke grew silent. Motionless before Haru, he stood like an unactivated robot, waiting for electricity to charge through him. Suddenly, his eyes snapped open.

"I can still feel the love!" He repeated the soul-filling line several times before he advanced on Haru. With every ounce of strength in his body, Yusuke threw the words into Haru's ears like there was no tomorrow. "Grrat-gat, gat-gat, gat, ga-ga-ga-ga-gat! Grrrat, gat-gat-gat!"

His impromptu jazz scatting left Haru stunned in amazement, yet all his songs had to end at some point. As always, Yusuke moved on from one song to another at a blistering pace, never stopping to rest or to halt his dancing.

But Haru felt an end coming. He'd been performing for who knew how long, as time became relative for Haru at the beginning of the performance. Yusuke again approached the window of Haru's room, finally letting the scene rest in silence.

Haru couldn't snap herself out of the wonder that she had just witnessed, only able to watch in silence as Yusuke pressed his right hand to the window.

Slowly, she heard Yusuke begin to mutter. He crescendoed, getting louder with every repetition of his mantra and becoming distinctive enough to understand. "Donda, Donda, Donda Donda Donda Donda Donda, Donda, Donda, Dooonda, Dooonda, Don-da, Don-da, Doooonda, Donda Donda Donda Donda Donda, Donda Donda…"

With a swift intake of breath, Yusuke pressed his hand through the window, shattering it in an instant. Haru turned her head away to shield it from the cold wind sweeping through the room, but she brought it back just as quickly to watch Yusuke.

He turned around to face her, with his speedo-adorned body sparkling like a god. The cold Hawaii night slept in the background as Yusuke stretched out his arms, howled like a wolf at Haru, and fell backward out of the window.

Ren's head snapped to the window at the sound of the wolf howling. He didn't know why, but something lurking within the depths of his soul compelled him to follow the howl and do his duty.

Hehe… awoooooo! Bark, ruff, meow- oh shit, dogs don't meow!

"Makoto, there's something I must do," Ren said, prompting Makoto to raise her head from his shoulder and look up into his eyes.

"You're leaving?"

"I must go to the beach. Destiny awaits us all."

"Ren… don't go. There's no flank steak out there," Makoto pleaded, though giggling at the meat mention. They had been slipping it into every conversation they had that evening for no reason, but it never failed to make Makoto laugh.

"The night calls, m'lady," Ren said as he unwrapped his arm from Makoto and got off the bed. Getting his shoes on, while still wearing his bathrobe, of course, Ren quickly walked out of Makoto's hotel room and into the unknown.

Ryuji sprang up from his pile of sweatshirts as a howl cut through the entire hotel. Like a vicious caveman searching for food, Ryuji desperately looked in every direction. "Apes together, strong," he said.

Mark wasn't a fan of the howl and tried to get Ryuji to stay in the abandoned shop. "But Ryuji… think of the Roof Runner… Roooooowf Russsssshhhher…" He went on and on, never saying the brand name the same way.

Nonetheless, Ryuji heeded the call of the wild. He sprinted out of the store, leaving Mark behind.

As Ren emerged onto the beach, he found himself among a giant crowd of people, all of whom were moving. He looked over the sea of heads to see that their destination was the stage that rested on the beach, fully prepped for the Nipple Nibblers to play their concert.

Shit, a concert?! I might have to go to that! Where can I get tickets?!

Ren's idea was quickly interrupted by another howl. His ears picked up the direction it came from, and Ren followed. He got out of the crowd, looping around all of them but still walking towards the stage.

As he got closer and closer to the giant, looming stage, complete with an overhang to protect the band from the ocean, mist, and wind from behind, Ren began to think that he was just hearing things. There was nobody at the stage, besides the crowd continuing to trickle towards it.

Yet there was another howl, with Ren picking up more detail in the sound this time. Based on its echo, Ren deciphered that it came from behind the stage. He walked around the giant heap of metal and materials to find the source of his instinctual arrival:

Yusuke Kitagawa, still nearly naked, was tuning an unplugged electric guitar. "Ah, my friend, you have made it."

"Yusuke?" Ren rubbed his tired eyes with his hand, savoring the weird yet pleasurable sensation that came from doing so. "What are you…?"

Yusuke looked into the sky. "We need one more." He opened his mouth and let out an ear-shattering howl. Ren went to cover his ears, but the howl ended just as soon as it started, leaving Ren mildly annoyed at the ringing in his ears.

Heavy breathing came into Ren's hearing from the right. Just as he turned to find its source, a hand slapped Ren's shoulder. "Hey, guys," Ryuji said, out of breath. "We ready to do this?"

"Uh… what is 'this'?" Ren asked. He smirked for no discernable reason other than that his knees felt good after all the walking he had done.

Yusuke strummed the guitar, only getting a muted, unsatisfying chord in response. He looked Ren in the eye. "We are The Nipple Nibblers, and we must leave Hawaii in style. This will be our last hurrah."

"What?"

"Okay, hold on," Ryuji said, holding his hand towards Yusuke. "I gathered that we were up to some shit, but we are the band performing tonight?"

"Indeed. We are the nibblers of nipples, therefore we are The Nipple Nibblers," Yusuke explained. He continued fiddling with his guitar by playing random notes. Ren could hear the crowd building on the other side of the stage, sending his gut into sickness-overdrive.

We're… performing?! I can't play any instruments!

Besides his obvious objections, Ren had one question he wanted to be answered above all. "Of all the possible band names, you called us The Nipple Nibblers?!"

Yusuke nodded. "The most beautiful moment in our short, despicable lives is the infant at the breast of their progenitor. I believe it fits our high-brow art-rock aesthetic perfectly."

Ryuji didn't like that one bit and finally brought up the biggest issue with them performing. "We have an aesthetic?! Dude, we don't even know how to play our instruments!"

"I believe you are capable of counting to four," Yusuke said. "Am I correct?" Ryuji and Ren dumbly nodded. "Perfect. Then you will be fine. It is a simple song, and all you must do is pluck the bass on the first and third beats," he said, pointing a finger in Ren's face. His finger turned to Ryuji, poking him on the nose. "As you will be our percussionist, play every beat of the four-count and keep time. When I give the signal, which you will know when you hear it, make a raucous effort to destroy your instruments with noise. Do you both understand?"

"No," Ryuji and Ren said in unison.

"Perfect! Let the show begin!" Yusuke walked up the stairs that would take them from backstage to the actual stage, and put them in front of however large the crowd was.

Ryuji and Ren both didn't follow. Ren was about to Ren away, but Yusuke stopped climbing the stairs. He turned back, facing them with a solemn glare written across his stone-like face. Letting the guitar hang by its strap, he extended both his hands out in the direction of the unwilling pair.

Hah! We're ten feet away! No chance he can reach us unless he suddenly turns into a superhero or some shit. I wouldn't put it past him.

Ren's fears came true, though not in the way he expected. He felt some strange forcing pushing him from behind towards the stairs. When he looked back, there was nothing behind him. As Ren looked up at Yusuke, now completely submitting to the artist's god powers, a realization struck him.

Holy shit! Yusuke has the Force! He's just like John Groundrunner!

Both Ryuji and Ren were forced up the stairway to their destiny, with no choice but to join Yusuke for the first and last performance of The Nipple Nibblers.

In the time since Ren left, Makoto grew daring and ventured down to the beach to see what all the fuss was about. The cool evening air blew through her hair as she walked down the beach and towards the surprisingly large crowd, all gathered in front of a massive stage.

Ren's here? Makoto thought in disbelief. There was no way she would find him in the combination of Shujin students, chaperones tourists, Hawaiians, resort staff, and whoever else was there.

Luckily, she didn't need to. "Mako-chan!" Makoto turned to see Haru trotting towards her on bare feet, kicking up sand with her clumsy strides. She almost fell onto Makoto, but barely caught herself as she reached the student council president. "Oh, I'm so glad I've found you!"

"Where have you been?"

"Yusuke-kun showed me the past, present, and future of the human race."

Makoto just giggled at whatever that could mean, as the buzzing sensation across her body hadn't lessened in the slightest. She curled her toes around in the sand just because of how weird it felt.

"Makoto! Haru!" Ann walked up to the group, her hair sticking out in every direction. She had on a similar sweatshirt to the one that Ren had brought to Makoto's hotel room on Friday morning. "It's me, Mark! You guys wanna check out the concert?"

Mark? Uh… I'm going to pass that off as a joke, Makoto thought before dismissing Ann's strange words.

"That's the plan," she said. The three couldn't string together any coherent conversation due to their shared lack of brain activity and interest in actually talking. All three of them simply wished to enjoy the strange feeling coursing through their bodies while getting a decent live concert.

Unfortunately, they were in for a rude awakening.

They joined the crowd in front of the stage, all of whom were already cheering for the band to come out. The girls got caught up in the moment, starting to cheer for a band that they weren't particularly excited to see. What were they called…? Makoto asked herself before looking up at the stage, seeing the giant lewd banner that was on display, featuring a woman breastfeeding a baby. Oh… The Nipple Nibblers. Great.

Makoto, Haru, and Ann all inserted themselves in the middle of the crowd. As Makoto pushed forward to get closer to the center of the crowd, she lost track of her friends and the mere thought that she was supposed to be with them. Makoto found herself completely alone in the huddled crowd but didn't mind. The frenetic energy that coursed through the crowd had gotten to her and taken her indifference towards The Nipple Nibblers to full-blown excitement.

Suddenly, a roar went over the crowd. Makoto stood on the tips of her toes to see three disheveled-looking guys go out onto the stage. Hey, he kind of looks like- oh my god! It took Makoto a second, but once she made the connection between who her boyfriend was and who was on stage, the crowd had already declared the band the saviors of humanity through all their cheering.

Ren, still wearing Makoto's bathrobe, picked up an electric bass guitar off the right side of the stage and stayed there. He fastened the strap over his shoulder, plucking the bass a few times to check if it worked. The low, booming feedback silenced the crowd, but the song didn't begin yet.

Ryuji took his place behind a giant drum set that gave him at least thirty drums to hit at any moment. Makoto heard a crescendo of cymbals that quickly faded, leaving her assuming that Ryuji was just testing.

Finally, the almost-nude front man of The Nipple Nibblers took center stage. He tapped the microphone and strummed his plugged-in guitar, getting a cheer from the crowd. Yusuke adjusted the microphone to his height, then looked out over the crowd. "Can you hear my words?" The crowd cheered, getting Yusuke to momentarily back off from the microphone before swiftly returning. "I believe…" He paused, letting the silence of the audience marinate. "That it is time for us to begin the show."

As the crowd cheered, Makoto heard Ryuji give a four-count on the hi-hat before the song truly began with the thickest, deepest guitar note Makoto had ever heard. On the third beat, Yusuke played the thick note again, now with Ren's bass reinforcing it and sending vibrations through the sand below. Ryuji's kick drum and snare filled every beat, while Yusuke and Ren's repetitive, one-note rhythm only applied to the first and third beats.

They settled into a groove, with the crowd vibing to the music. People danced around Makoto, though she didn't know how because the music was so minimal, but they did so anyway.

Yusuke stepped up to the microphone, scowling at his legion of fans. "She moves… with a purpose," he said flatly, his eyes wide and unblinking. "What a magnificent purpose…"

Their groove hadn't changed at all, except at the end of the four-bar progression where the thick note was played on the third and fourth beats. The Nipple Nibblers kept that groove going, refusing to give in to any audience member's conceptions of changing it.

Yusuke continued his simple lyrics, adding variation with his altered vocal delivery. "She mooooves with a p-p-purpose ," he bellowed, closing his eyes and letting Ryuji's drumbeat course through his body. "What a magnificent!" he shrieked, pausing for a moment before completing the lyric much more softly, "purpose…"

The crowd bobbed along with the slow, repetitive, rhythm, but they seemed to like it. Even if Makoto wasn't fond of it, the bass tone vibrated the whole beach, forcing her to move her body somewhat, and the everlasting buzzing feeling certainly contributed to that.

A pang of microphone feedback cut through the speakers as Yusuke put his mouth around the microphone. "She moves," he said, saliva coating his lyrics in disgust, "with a purghposhe! What a magnificent purpose!"

There was another sharp moment of feedback as he stepped away from the microphone to continue the groove with his bandmates, but, as always, Yusuke stepped back up to the microphone.

"And they find different ways to suck themselves off." Yusuke expertly placed pronunciation on words that hit just in time with the thick note. "She does not care at all. She moves with a purpose…"

Makoto felt the bodies around her pushing each other away from the center of the crowd. She heard voices yelling from that direction. Eager to see what the fuss was, she pushed through several dancing Shujin students to find a circle of people at the center of the crowd. A perimeter of concert attendees had left the circle empty and wasn't letting anyone walk through it.

Makoto had no idea what was going on, but she wanted to see whatever was going to happen with the circle. As she waited, hearing the slow groove and Yusuke's ramblings about a girl with mysterious purpose, she spotted Ann and Haru emerging into separate spots around the circle. They both had fierce, determined looks in their eyes, but Makoto couldn't tell why.

Yusuke elevated his ramblings into shrieking howls. "She moves with a purpose !" Makoto could hear his vocal cords straining to scream the words out, but the frontman still continued. "Oh my god, it's such a purpose, itssuchapurpose, whatamagnificent puhuuuurpose!"

One guy, who'd been holding people around the circle back from stepping in, did that very thing himself. He went to the middle of the circle, waving both his arms in the air. The people at the perimeter of the circle cheered at him, hurting Makoto's ears but giving her the energy that was necessary for a concert.

"And they find different ways to s-s-s-s-suck themselves off!" Yusuke howled into the microphone, engulfing it in his mouth again. "Shedoesnotcareatall, she moves with a por-por-por- puuuuurpose! Nipple Nibblers, go!"

Makoto looked toward the stage out of confusion, only to be hit with a blast of unprecedented sound that she knew would give her tinnitus. She couldn't cover her ears because of the tight crowd, only able to watch as Ren, Ryuji, and Yusuke unleashed an atomic bomb upon the stage. Erupting into full-on noise, they played a new version of the previous groove, with Ren continuing his thick bass note while Yusuke let loose unrelenting guitar feedback on the second and fourth beats. Ryuji's drumsticks crash into the cymbals at a slow pace, but with enough energy to send the house crashing down.

Oh, and with enough force to spring the mosh pit that Makoto unintentionally placed herself in. The people around the perimeter rushed towards the center, packing into each other with violent energy all for the sake of dancing to the song. Makoto found herself in the middle of it, barely able to stay standing.

But, just when she didn't think things could become more intense, Yusuke resumed his howling over the excessive noise of his guitar. "She moves with a purpose! God, what a purpose! It is so magnificent! Such a purpose! What a magnificent puuuuuurpose!"

That set something off inside Makoto.

Not hesitating in the slightest, Makoto turned to the person nearest to her, a tall American guy dressed in a Hawaiian T-shirt, and punched him in the face. She wasn't the only one; the whole mosh pit had erupted into actual, real violence, all of them punching and kicking each other to the beat of Yusuke's song.

Makoto worked her way through the mosh pit, dropping roundhouse kicks on anyone who got within two feet of her and throwing punches at every unsuspecting person she could find. Some dared to challenge the Queen in the pit, but all of them fell. Tony, the concierge, was dropped with a one-two jab to the face, sending him to the ground with a bloodied nose.

Out of the corner of her eye, Makoto saw Haru atop some random girl's shoulders, choking her out with her elbow. In the other direction, Ann rubbed some poor Shujin student's head into the sand below.

Someone grabbed Makoto's shoulder, and she instinctively spun and jabbed at the person's face, only to immediately regret it. Kawakami clutched her eye, doubling over in the middle of the crowd. Makoto could hear Kawakami shouting, but the music overtook everything and the violence continued into the night.

Makoto moved with a purpose, yet her movements slowed as the violence remained around her in every direction. She felt herself growing more tired, unable to keep up with the changing scenery and people around her.

Eventually, everything became a blur as the neverending pulsing buzz in Makoto's head took over. She couldn't remember what happened, what was going on, or where she was as she collapsed to the ground in exhaustion.

Everything faded to black.

Sunday, 9/11

Ren stepped into his hotel room as the morning sun warmed the air. Things remained untouched since he… since he…

Uh… shit. I can barely remember what happened. I was in here, eating brownies, then I was at Makoto's then… oh my god. Was the performance on the beach real?!

Ren's headache forced a groan as he stumbled through the room, nearly tripping over his suitcase. He grabbed the suitcase from beside the still-locked door to the bathroom, swinging it open and dropping it on the floor.

Wait, what happened to the brownies?

Ren all too vividly remembered the sight of brownies neatly filling his entire suitcase, but it was now completely empty, besides a few chocolate crumbs at the bottom. It took Ren a second, with the realization only hitting him when he noticed the crack of light at the base of the bathroom door.

Did Mishima eat allof the brownies…?

Ren knocked on the bathroom door. "Mishima? You still there?"

A gurgling demon voice came from the other side of the door. "I want your soooooul… I need your sooooul."

"That's cool, man, but the bus for the airport is leaving soon. You might want to get moving."

"Come to daddy…" He was much less energetic about his words than when he tried to kill Ren, but he still had a little spirit left in him. "Come to daddy…"

"Alright, man, if you say so." Ren walked away from the bathroom door and over to the cabinet beneath the TV. After the performance from the night before, Yusuke had shared an interesting tidbit with Ren about the location of his clothes. Ren pulled open the first drawer of the cabinet and found all the clothes that he'd brought on the trip, neatly ironed and folded. Ren moved the clothes from the cabinet to his suitcase in no time at all, and he was ready to leave the hotel behind.

Ren took one last look at the bathroom door, wondering what awaited Mishima, but he shook his head away. He walked out the door, shutting it behind him. Alone, as he expected to be, Ren made his way down the elevator, and onto the boat.

As it glided through the calm canal water, Ren took in his last moments of Hawaii. He hummed softly to himself, only because the rest of the boat was vacant apart from the driver.

This is it. The real end of summer. Back to school, back to homework, back to all of it… you're going home, Ren.

Life in Tokyo went much faster than Ren ever expected it would. It hadn't been easy, throwing plenty of challenges and confusion at Ren, but he had lucked out each and every time. Hawaii had been a time to relish in the fact that he made it this far, and to remind him that his time in Tokyo would be drawing to a close sooner than he expected.

The boat stopped at the lobby and Ren pulled his suitcase with him as he stepped off. He walked up the stone steps, finding everyone who'd gone on the Shujin trip at the top. Ren looked through the bruised, beaten faces of all the students, wondering what had transpired the night before, but not caring too much. Ren had one goal, and that was to join his friends for their final moment in Hawaii.

As Ren saw them, he knew he was ready to leave Hawaii behind and face whatever Tokyo had. The fate of Yoshiro and Makoto laid waiting on the horizon, yet Ren had renewed spirit to fight for the outcome he wanted, and not to do it through some vigilante. He and Makoto would work together to overcome whatever bullshit life had to throw at them.

"Everyone," Kawakami said, her throat raspy and dry from the night before. One of her cold, distant eyes had a giant black bruise around it. She stood on one of the benches to get everyone's attention and quickly silenced the chattering group of teenagers. "While last night wasn't what we expected, please do remember that what happens in Hawaii, stays in Hawaii!"

Ren finally reached his friends, all of whom greeted him with smiles, pats on the back, and exactly one kiss. At that moment, Ren felt calm for the first time all summer.

Maybe the real purpose that she moved with was the group of friends I made along the way.

A/N: And there it is, the end of the Hawaii trip. I'm very happy with the last two chapters, as they allowed for me to just give in to full self-indulgence in every way.

To address the elephant in the room, I won't write smut for Makoto and Ren when the inevitable happens. I'll just leave it to the implication and call it a day. As for the other elephant, this is a completely inaccurate representation of how edibles work, so please don't eat ten weed brownies expecting to learn how to play riot-inciting music.

Kudos to AgentOfStars on AO3 for providing the idea of Yusuke dancing and rapping Kanye to Haru.

This concludes the second act, so I'll be taking another break for the time being. It'll be more like the break I took after chapter 29 because I'll continue working on the fic. I'd like to at least get the rest of September outlined in detail before I resume posting. I may do a chapter of my other fic, depending on if the mood strikes me.

Thank you guys for reading, and I hope you have a great weekend! TKOSA will be back far sooner than you think...