"Home. I want to go back home." Hase was already up and awake in the hospital bed with Himemiya passed out by her bedside, his face buried in his folded arms. And already she was beginning to feel things- God, she both hated and loved it at the same time. What was she to make of herself? She touched her neck: it was truly fine, despite her entire body weight hanging from it for what felt like eternity. She could talk and breathe, as evident by the trek down the mountains to the nearest emergency phone line. So for her, it seemed like quite the exaggeration to have her rushed to a hospital and worry everyone and take up more of their time.

Yeah, it was guilt she was feeling yet again. Pile that on to the hundred other things she was feeling at the moment.

Her best efforts not to wake Himemiya were in vain, because she had to move her cramped leg really badly. He immediately sprung to life and didn't even bother to wipe his eyes free of his eye-boogers before he stared into Hase's eyes.

"Hey," Hase timidly whispered whilst looking down at her lap.

"H-Hey," Himemiya whispered back. "How are you feeling?"

Still looking down, she idly interlocked her fingers together and twirled her thumbs around one another. "Good," she replied, too overwhelmed to think of literally anything else. What she really meant to say was: "I woke up an hour ago and while I feel fine at the moment, I'm afraid I'll overthink things so much to the point where I'll realize the meaninglessness of this entire universe and our insignificant existence."

"They put you on some kinda drug," he informed. "Something to help with...y'know. Even though I objected because I know you wouldn't like bottling it up like that."

"Bottling it up?"

"Yeah. It's better to vent, isn't it?"

She met his eyes and produced a wobbly, tired smile. Like a cat that had been lost for a very long time who had finally returned back home. Emotionally, at least. "Himemiya, I think I already have. Back at the mountains?"

He nodded, and a faint smell interrupted his thoughts. Hase's hospital bed was located at the far end of the ICU, by the window. There were other patients in there as well, all separated by blue curtains and the bulk of machines that beeped and clicked. And one of them must've woken up to finish last night's dinner on a tray.

Himemiya left and returned with breakfast, a simple scrambled eggs with rice, toasted tomatoes and some orange juice that was only juice by its color. Normally, Hase would object furiously to being spoon fed like that, but she noticed that with each spoonful she took into her mouth, the worry would visibly evaporate off of Himemiya. She couldn't tell if it was the anti-depressants or if she had gotten better at reading emotions or if it was just Himemiya- she could tell exactly what he was thinking.

"Good?," he hummed.

The girl nodded with a smile and a cheek full of eggs. "So...where's everyone else? Did Sensei go back home?"

"They're outside. Let me go get-"

"N-No...!," she called, grabbing his arm gently. "Let me..."

Himemiya objected when Hase began removing the wires from her arms and clips off her fingers. She brushed him off and jumped off the bed.

"I'm fine, see?," she said. "It's not like I was hit by a car or anything. I'm more worried about that cut on your hand-"

"-you were hanging for a full minute," he deadpanned.

"Don't worry about it. Seriously. I don't want everyone to see me lying in bed."

"Well...okay then. Lean on me if you have to."

She managed to catch a glimpse of the clock on her way out. It was five am: meaning that after she woke up at two yesterday, watched the sunrise with Himemiya and everyone else, trekked down the mountain and got the ambulance to pick her up, she had slept for a full day. It all felt like a fever dream and the only thing reassuring her that it actually happened was the bruise on her neck and the aching in her thighs.

Nevertheless, she had to act normal. For their sake.

She pushed open the door and saw her friends passed out on the chairs that lined the waiting room. It was nothing short of adorable: Aoyama's head was resting on Sorata's shoulder and neck, while he had an arm holding her close. Sensei seemed to be very comfortable on the sofa. And to the right of the Aoyama was...

"Misaki? Jin?," Hase let out. Her quiet voice was like an air horn to the sleeping creatures, who all woke up and practically crushed her with hugs.

"HASE!," Misaki cried. Hase didn't object when her face was buried in Misaki's chest. "We were so worried!"

"Don't you ever do anything like that again, do you understand?"

"Is your neck okay?"

"Hase, we brought you-"

But she was more cat-like than Hikari and Mashiro combined, and half retreated back into the patient room. Aoyama stepped forward without hiding the concern on her face. "Hase?," she asked quietly. "Are you okay?"

"I...I want to go back home."


"Let me tell you how we're gonna get back home," Rita said forcefully. Her hands were clamped on her friends shoulders and demanded that Mashiro kept her eyes focused on her in rapt attention. "This painting is our leverage."

"It's not done yet-"

"-by the time it is, it's gonna be worth so much that you can threaten to ruin it unless your mom listens to your demands. And what are they?," Rita asked.

"Sorata," Mashiro whispered.

Ryuunosuke interjected. "Home," he said. "Your demands are you go back to Sakurasou the next day. If she's smart, she won't risk you or us damaging it in any way. And if it's money she's after, it should be enough to keep her until next summer."

"Got it."

Rita clumsily brushed locks of yellow bed-hair away from her eyes. "Good. Finish up the painting. I'm gonna go pee, then get us some breakfast. Pancakes for you Mashiro?" She nodded in response and Rita made her way to the door. "Darling, no more tomatoes in my house. What toppings do you want on your-"

She opened the door.

"-pancakes."

"Good morning Rita~!," the tall blonde woman chirped. "Where's my daughter?" From where she was standing, Mashiro was hidden behind the large canvas that was facing towards the door.

She didn't bother to hide her contempt. "Phoebe," Rita growled. "Good morning to you too. I think you know where she is-"

Rita was shoved aside without a second thought. Mashiro's mom noticed the legs underneath the canvas, went over and hugged the girl behind it. If it weren't for yesterday, it might've been a nice moment- hugging behind an exquisite painting, Mashiro's mom thought after taking a quick glance. Mashiro and Ryuunosuke breathed ten times faster from how uncomfortable they were at the woman's presence. She definitely commanded it: she was already in expensive red office attire, jewellery and makeup for the day ahead. She reeked of perfume probably made from baby seals or elephant tusks, and her hair was done in a way that was impossible without the help of a servant behind her.

"Oh Mashiro...I was so worried about you!," Phoebe sighed. It sounded genuine but Mashiro didn't know anymore. "I'm really sorry I hit you. I was upset. I...we've been going through some trouble lately."

"Financial trouble?," Ryuunosuke sneered with his arms crossed.

"Who are you?"

"...please leave," Mashiro quietly said. Hearing this, her mom held her tighter.

"Sweetie...don't be upset. You'll get to go back to Sakurasou soon, I'm working on it."

"Work- what do you mean working on it?," Rita asked.

"Rita, Mashiro's been getting death threats."

"Don't spin that bullshit excuse." All eyes were on Rita. "Mashiro always gets death threats! Ever since she was in front of the camera at five years old!"

And her anger was met with Phoebe's silent rage. She stood up and towered over Rita. "Are you saying I don't want my daughter to be happy? To be safe?," she accused.

"I think you want as many paintings from her as possible so you can line your wallet!"

But for once, she seemed to cool off after a loud sigh. "It's already been cancelled. It's for your own good, Mashiro. I'm sorry."

They couldn't believe what they heard. Phoebe may as well have slapped her daughter in front of them. They didn't know what they were expecting when they turned to look at Mashiro. She was just about ready to commit a crime.

"You...you cancelled my VISA?," Mashiro repeated, scarily quiet.

"I'm sorry. It's just for a little while, until we can guarantee-"

"-FUCK YOU!," Mashiro screamed, knocking over the painting and half the mansion when she stormed out of the room in tears. Mashiro's mother didn't bother trying to get her back. Instead, she slowly walked over to the painting and propped it back up on the easel.

"...you're a monster," Rita murmured.

"I said it's just for a little while. Do you really think I'd keep her here forever? I know how much she loves Japan. How much she loves Sakurasou."

She looked at her watch. It was clear she had to go to work. She walked out, but not before fishing a pink phone from her pocket and giving it to Rita.

"Here," she said. "Make sure Mashiro calls Sorata. That boy called at least fifty times."

"-you didn't-"

"-no. No I didn't." Referring to if she answered one of them. Phoebe had a slight look of envy in her eyes, since Mashiro hadn't called her even once. "Your mother and I are letting you three play here as long as you like. There's a car outside for Mashiro when she's ready." She peeked her head out of the doorway. "Oh, and that painting isn't your leverage. If you damage it in any way, I will make sure Mashiro never leaves the country ever again."


It was a sombre start to the day. In the time before Rita opened that door, she briefly imagined her dancing and swinging her hips in the kitchen with Ryuunosuke while making pancakes, excited to unleash their plan on the monster that was Mashiro's mother. Maybe they could even have the tiniest amounts of fun in England before leaving.

It was anything but. They all felt it: being separated from the dormitory and more importantly, their friends made everything ten times harder. Despite the fact that their friends would go out of their way to make things harder, ironically. Rita missed arguing with Sensei about rules and keeping it down at night. Ryuunosuke missed the razor-thin walls and Sorata's humorous attempts to keep quiet. God only knows what Mashiro missed.

"Mashiro! Sorata wants to talk to you!," Ryuunosuke called. But his voice only echoed. They had spent half an hour trying to find the girl like she was playing hide and seek. Well, Ryuunosuke was at least. Rita was trailing behind, not really looking around but simply looking at her boyfriends feet as they moved in front of her.

"Oof!" Rita bumped her forehead into his chest when he turned around. Her legs seemed wobblier than usual and she gently fell on the marble floor. "Darling?"

"Baby...she'll be okay. I promise." Ryuunosuke helped her up. "We'll find her, give her her phone, she'll call Sorata and be okay. Somewhat."

He didn't resist when she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him. She was shaking. "...you called me baby...," she smiled. But it was bittersweet. It wasn't fair that she had the love of her life with her. She loved Mashiro as much as Ryuunosuke, and she wanted her best friend to be with the ones she loves. "Darling...Phoebe can't be serious, right? Can you cancel a travel VISA on a whim?"

He nodded. "Apparently you can. Mashiro's under eighteen, her mother holds responsibility for her VISA."

"Then what...I'm sorry. I don't see how we can get past this," Rita sighed. "No matter what we do, she holds all the cards."

Rita leaned on the kitchen counter with her head in her hands while Ryuunosuke fiddled with the pink phone. He plugged a charger into the wall socket and began charging it- the only reason why Sorata must've stopped calling would be because the battery died, he guessed. But as he was fiddling with the cable, the marble cabinet / drawer by his knees made a slight 'thump' noise.

He knelt down, opened it, and saw Mashiro tucked in the enclosed space.

"Mashiro!," Ryuunosuke jumped back in surprise. "W-What are you doing?" Rita came running over.

But Mashiro refused to leave. She took one angry look at Ryuunosuke before staring back at the grey marble in front of her, non-verbally telling both of them to screw off. Her thought process was at the point where she had accepted the idea of her staying in England forever. Staying safe and being protected from the hate that comes with being good at something. She would stay in that cabinet forever with a paintbrush and do what she needs to do, protected from the outside, until eventually dying of dehydration.

But she changed her mind when she heard her ringtone. And not just any old ringtone. It was the theme song to Mashiro's favorite video game that Sorata had made. She scrambled out of there and picked up the phone.

"...Sorata?," she said.

"Mashiro! Are you okay?! Are you hurt?! Where are you?! Why haven't you picked up?!"

"I love you."

Dead silence. "What?!," Sorata replied frantically. The three heard footsteps rushing closer to Sorata.

"Nothing. I was painting pictures."

"That's not true," Rita interjected. "Put him on speaker." Mashiro set the phone down on the counter and the three hovered over it like it was a rare artifact.

"Mashiro?!," Himemiya interrupted, shoving Sorata aside. "Your mom hit you?!"

"Don't say that Himemiya!," Sensei chastised.

"Are you okay Mashiro?," Aoyama asked with concern.

"Rita? Is that you?," Sorata asked frantically. "Is Ryuunosuke there too?"

Ryuunosuke leaned closer to the phone. "Yeah. Hey Sorata-"

"I OUGHTA RIP YOU A NEW ONE, YOU HEAR ME SORATA?!," Rita screamed. "MASHIRO CALLED YOU A HUNDRED BLOODY TIMES AND YOU DIDN'T PICK UP!"

"Y-Yeah. Sorry. I...was looking for Hase. She-"

"-I know about Hase you prick," Rita interrupted. "Had to hear it from Sensei on the way to pick you up. "Really...ever think about letting us know? Ever think about keeping us updated on the whole 'Hase on the brink of death situation?'"

"What about Mashiro?," Sorata asked. "Why hasn't she picked up?"

"My mom took my phone," Mashiro spoke. Rita looked up, and noticed the small smile on her face. She was feeling better already- the chaotic voices overlapping one another reminding her of a Sakurasou hotpot.

"MASHIRO-CHAN!"

"Not too loud honey!"

Her smile grew. "Misaki? Is that-"

"Mashiro-chan! Hase is a-okay!," Misaki yelled. "We all are, no need to worry!"

"Is...Hase...?"

A timid voice brought relieved smiles to those in England. "...hey Mashiro."

"Hase..."

"Sorry to have made you worried."

"No. Don't be. Are you okay?," Mashiro asked.

"Getting better. More importantly...your VISA? What's going on with that?," Hase asked.

Mashiro went quiet, so Rita had to talk on her behalf. "...her mom cancelled her travel VISA."

A cacophony of protested noise blared over the speaker phone.

"Her mom said it was to protect her from the death threats she's been getting ever since she returned," Rita continued. She let her emotions get the better of her. "But I know the real reason why. I see right through that woman. I saw her face when she saw the painting- she thinks that the more depressed Mashiro is, the more artwork she'll produce, which means more money for her-"

"-painting?," Himemiya asked. "What painting?"

"The night her mom...y'know, she stayed up all night and made the greatest painting we have ever seen," Ryuunosuke said.

"Oh, it's unbelievable," Rita agreed.

A quiet voice murmured to herself. "It's not finished yet."

"If Rita's correct, wouldn't you want to stop making art for a while Mashiro?," Sorata asked.

"Either way...she's dangling it in front of us like a damn carrot on a stick," Rita growled. The entire Sakurasou gang went on an incomprehensible 'talk-over-one-another-athon'. A part of Sensei knew that they were all just happy to hear one another's voices alive and well, but they weren't just talking for the sake of talking. They were discussing ways to get Mashiro's VISA back so that she can come home either during summer or after.

Except for Ryuunosuke however. He was sat on a stool by the counter with his arms crossed, thinking up ways just like everyone else. His eyes opened and wandered over all the stuff on the other counters of the kitchen: there were takeaway containers, plushies from arcade trips, movie box sets and...

...his eyes lingered on a particular object, and a plan formed in his mind.

"I think I have an idea," he said.

And when he finished explaining how to get Mashiro's VISA back, Rita grabbed the sides of his head and pulled him in for a hungry kiss. "I love you," Rita breathed. "That's the most brilliant plan I have ever heard."


The meadows had always been a place of comfort for the eccentric artist. Mashiro had always lived in cities, mansions and the inside of paint studios, almost always under the thumb of her mother and an ever invasive security team buzzing over her like mosquitos. Of course, in order to be anywhere, they had to be there with her, but it wasn't always like that.

She sat down on the grassy hill. As a kid, she remembered painting with her dad here. She remembered herself covered in paint, sitting in his lap drawing shapes and figures on canvas. Her tiny fingers would point to a color tube that was roughly the same color as the grass or the sky and her dad would unscrew the cap and squeeze some paint onto the painter's palette.

She remembered playing with other kids, walking her dog, painting whatever she wanted...lots of happy memories were made here. And today, in a couple of hours, the most rebellious memory would be made here. A memory of her facing her problems, rather than running away from it.

She fiddled with a paint tube as she looked at the rolling green meadows in the distance. There was a tree above her providing her with shade, but she still wore a floppy light brown sunhat and a floral pink dress to match today's sunny weather. In front of her was a stool and an easel, propping up the same half-finished painting she made in her depressive stupor. It was a big canvas; people had already gathered behind her, watching from afar. She had made some progress on it. Having talked to Sorata and her friends, confident that she'll get to go back to Sakurasou and confident that this plan will work, she was feeling better. And again, she chose to express her relief in her work.

A man with his dog noticed her and walked up. "Excuse me, sorry to bother you, but are you Mashiro Shiina by any chance?"

"First customer. Good work Ryuunosuke, let 'em have it."

"I am," she replied in her usual kuudere tone.

"I just wanna say...this is incredible. Keep doing what you're doing, and I love your work."

"Thank you."

Ryuunosuke had sent out a single post of Mashiro painting in the picturesque meadow by herself online. And for once, she didn't mind that people were talking to her, asking her questions and taking pictures with her. Quite the contrary in fact, without her manager / mother around, she could say whatever she wanted and be herself. Rita even caught Mashiro smiling talking to all these people. And naturally, they were all very polite and didn't dare to touch the still drying canvas.

And just as predicted, the news crew showed up long before Mashiro's mom or her security team would even know she had snuck out of the mansion.

"Miss Shiina! Julia Allanson, I'm a news reporter for the BBC. How are you doing today?"

"Good. How are you?"

"Lovely! Thanks for asking. Would you mind doing a quick interview? We're all interested in you and this...magnificent painting you're working on!"

"Okay."

A team of four dusted her with some makeup, set up some light reflectors and rolled the cameras so that she looked more beautiful and photogenic than she already was. With Mashiro sitting in front of it, both her and the painting took up most of the frame, but you could still see the meadow blurred in the distance.

They were about a minute in before the real meat and bone questions started to roll in.

Julia leaned back and admired the canvas. "This painting, it makes me feel so sad but its also..."

"...hopeful?," Mashiro finished for her. The reporter nodded.

"Hopeful."

"Julia. I've been having a pretty rough time lately. I'm not a very good talker so this is how I express my feelings."

"The sadness- are you okay if I ask...?"

"I've been really lonely," Mashiro admitted. "Not just now, but all my life. I was always painting. Maybe because I couldn't talk to people. Maybe because I was too scared to. Maybe I was coping. Art, it's always been important to me. But I feel like I let it eat me sometimes."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"My mother allowed me to go to Japan for a while. And moving into a dormitory with other people my age, I didn't feel as lonely as I used to. They didn't seem to mind that I was weird. Because they were weird." Mashiro let a smile slowly form on her face the more she thought about Sakurasou. She remembered the time when her and Aoyama got into a fight. "And sure, maybe they'd get jealous of me, but I was jealous of them too, and that would be that. We'd all just go on with our lives. I really liked it."

"What would you say this painting represents?," Julia asked.

"I...don't know. I guess...me? What I'm feeling. I feel sad but I also want to laugh and dance at the same time. Because life is good. It will always be good, and there will be things that make it worth it."

"Mashiro...that's my girl..." Rita hushed to herself, listening in with earphones. Ryuunosuke had the same look of surprise and would've teared up at Mashiro's words, if it weren't for him knowing that Rita would never let it die if he did.

"I sorta wanted this painting to talk to people who are at a low point in their lives," Mashiro continued. "If this painting were to go on sale...I'd want half the proceeds to go to charity. To like...a mental health thing."

"Like 'Mind' or 'Samaritans?'"

"Yes. My dad couldn't get the help he needed during his toughest times and he's gone because of it. I...I don't want that to happen to anyone else. I don't want people to be sad."

"That's very noble of you, Miss Shiina. And I'm sorry to hear about your father. We've all been touched by your previous works, and I'm sure your next ones will make the world a little bit brighter as you intend."

Mashiro shook her head. "No. I'm thinking about retiring. This might be my last painting."

Her quiet voice managed to shake all of England like a small earthquake. Ryuunosuke and Rita saw that she was lucky to have gotten that part in, as men in black suits and sunglasses came running over like Secret Service agents and began setting up a perimeter around their client. Julia was disappointed, seeing as how this might've been the first time anyone had ever gotten Mashiro to talk by herself, but she didn't protest when a bodyguard informed her of the situation.

A familiar figure dressed in red hopped out of the Mercedes, prompting Ryuunosuke and Rita to get into position.

"Mashiro!," Phoebe scowled. "What do you think you're doing young lady?! You are grounded! GROUNDED!"

And just as her mom was in range to drag her away by the ear, Mashiro revealed a surprise tin of yellow paint hidden in a picnic basket. She held it high above the canvas. It was a small tin about the size of a can of beans, but it was more than enough to completely ruin the entire artwork if Mashiro were to tip it forwards just a little bit and let gravity do its thing. Phoebe and her team of men in suits stopped dead in their tracks, knowing full well the value of that work.

"Mashiro," she began, placing one hand on her hip and another pinching the bridge of her nose. "Do you know what you have done?"

"Yeah."

"Retiring?! Are you fucking kidding me?!"

"I want to."

"This is your dream!," she yelled. "Painting! Everything I have done-"

"-everything you have done?! You've made my life miserable!"

"I gave you opportunities to succeed and you have! Look around you! Do you think all of this comes from you just vomiting paint on canvas?! Do you know how much work I have to put in to make them sell?!"

"I! DON'T CARE! ABOUT IT!"

Their argument would've turned violent had it not been for Rita and Ryuunosuke running in between the two. But Phoebe didn't seem to notice and continued to yell over their heads.

"I DID ALL OF THIS FOR YOU!-"

"-I DON'T CARE! I JUST WANTED YOU TO LOVE ME!"

That knocked her mom backwards. And Rita thought that maybe she wasn't so heartless after all, when tears began forming in her eyes. "You...you don't think I love you?!"

"...you never have," Mashiro said quietly. "Ever since dad died. You've never been the same."

"Mashiro..."

"He wouldn't have wanted this!"

Phoebe lowered her head as well. "...he would've wanted you to show your talent to the world."

"He would've wanted me happy!"

"He would've wanted you safe!," she yelled. "Mashiro. You can tear apart that painting. You can undo all my hard work if you want. But you'll make it so much harder for me to get you back to where you belong. I need to guarantee nothing bad will happen to you-"

"-oh- PISS OFF! YOU AND YOUR FUCKING SAFETY!," Mashiro roared in a teary, explosive outburst. "SEND ME BACK TO JAPAN!"

The taller blonde sounded defeated. "...my daughter. You...you think you're the only one who's in pain here? First my husband dies. That...that maybe I can handle. But now my daughter- my precious baby girl, is leaving by herself? While some people are out to do unspeakable things to her?"

Mashiro stayed quiet.

"D-Do you want to know some of the things I've received?," she continued. "The night that man broke into our home and almost killed you- I will never forgive myself for that. And I'll never forgive myself if it happens to my daughter ever again!"

"...so I'm supposed to stay here and rot? Locked in my room for my entire life?"

"Sweetie. You know that's not what I want."

"Enable my VISA," Mashiro demanded.

"I can't."

"I'm going back mom. You might be hurting but I've moved on. I've found the one thing worth living for in this wretched life and I sure as hell am willing to die for it too. I'm not letting you stop me," Mashiro spoke. She nodded towards Ryuunosuke and he looked Mashiro's mom in the eyes. She heard a click- Mashiro had heard it dozens of times. It was the same camcorder used to capture her happiest moments as zeros and ones, and now it had captured Phoebe metaphorically locking her daughter in a bird cage. When all she wanted, as stated in the interview, was to be free and live in a place with her friends.

Her face paled. "You...you were filming?," she let out.

"Everyone will hear about this," Ryuunosuke said. "Everyone will know that you are a heartless bitch who is keeping her own daughter locked away and miserable."

"...she'll be safe."

"Her dad didn't raise some fragile princess, Phoebe," Rita added. "He wouldn't want her locked away and safe and never reaching her potential. He would want her to make her own choices by her own free will."

Phoebe crumbled to the ground and sobbed, knowing what's about to come. She'd have to send Mashiro back. Otherwise, Ryuunosuke would release the video to every single news outlet in the UK and on the internet, and the entire world would see her as the monster Rita believes she is. Yes, she knew everyone would take Mashiro's side- she had just poured her heart out in front of the cameras minutes prior.

Her daughter would leave her, and she would be left cold, lonely and empty yet again, surrounded by more wealth than she needed in a lifetime.

"Mom," Mashiro said, kneeling down. "The painting's finished. I'll do a showing. At an art gallery. One last time, before we leave."

"...don't. Just go."

"I-I'll announce my retirement on camera- a-and the bidding's should easily reach over one million-"

"JUST GO!," she screamed. "IT WAS NEVER ABOUT THE MONEY MASHIRO!"

...

"...it was never about the money. We have more than enough. I just...wanted to see my daughter again. But now she wants to leave. She sees how much of a monster I am."

"I'm sorry-"

"Mashiro," Rita commanded. "Come on. Let's go."

They took one last look at the woman. Mashiro and Ryuunosuke, with the painting under their arms, were the first to leave towards the black cars in the distance. Phoebe tiredly spoke into her phone, giving orders to the security team to help Mashiro pack up her things and get her to the airport safely. It was somewhat heart wrenching- Rita might've offered words of sympathy had it not been for the fact that she knew the two and their troubled history.

"We'll take a hundred grand as well," she demanded with her arms crossed. For once, she towered over Phoebe.

"...fine. Whatever," she sobbed. "I'll give her two. It doesn't matter to me anymore."

She wiped the tears from her face, leaving behind a faint smudge of mascara stains on her cheeks. Her legs were positioned oddly, but she was sat with her back hunched and her eyes fixed on the laces of Rita's sneakers.

"Everyone I love has left me," she admitted. "My parents...my husband...my own daughter. What sort of a person am I?," she sighed. "I never wanted to lose her."

"You won't lose her," Rita replied. "She'll be safe. We'll make sure of it."

"...sure." But she really didn't believe Rita's promise by the way it came out. Maybe Rita didn't believe her own words too- seeing as Mashiro, Sorata and Aoyama had almost been killed by Fujisawa.

"And she'll call you. Every night, let you know what she's been up to."

"Don't. I know she hates my guts. She doesn't need me. But promise me that she finds love and happiness."

Rita smiled. "She already has. That's why she's been fighting this hard. That's why she painted that masterpiece."

"I see."

"Goodbye Phoebe," Rita ended with an air of finality. "Maybe we'll see each other again."

"Maybe. Goodbye, Rita. I'm sorry. For everything."

AN: And with that, Mashiro is finally free and gets to go back to Sakurasou, where she can spend her summer in peace!