IX

Tuesday

April 9, 2013 — Early Morning

Clear Skies

The next morning, when Shou stepped outside, he found the sun shining down bright and glorious; it illuminated the steps of G Hall with a soft, golden glow. Shou smiled, enjoying the warmth on his face. All the gloom of the previous day's events felt like they had been lifted, as if the light had banished a pall hanging over his soul.

Kouta and Emi fell in beside Shou, and they began their walk to school.

"Man," Kouta said, "what a beautiful day!" He stretched his arms out wide and rolled his neck. "How did you guys sleep? I'm all stiff. Dreamed Shadows were chasing me all night."

"Yeah," Emi said, "last night wasn't exactly . . . restful." She turned to Shou. "How about you?"

Shou told them he'd slept all right. He felt vaguely guilty. Kouta and Emi had been plagued by nightmares, while he'd gotten the first decent night's rest he'd had since arriving at Morigami. He'd just been so exhausted by yesterday's events that his brain finally hadn't been able to take it anymore; it had shut down, affording him a brief night of peace.

Kouta looked up at the sky, squinting against the brightness. Small, puffy white clouds hung like bits of cotton amid the azure expanse. "I wonder where all the dark clouds went," he said. "Never ended up raining."

"Yeah," Emi said. "It's weird."

"Relatively speaking," Kouta said. "Weird's taken on a whole new meaning, these days."

Emi managed a laugh. "Guess you're right."

"I dunno about you guys, but I'm gonna get some shuteye in class," Kouta said. "We gotta be ready for later."

"Some of us actually have to keep up our grades, you know," Emi said. "I'm on an academic scholarship. I have to maintain an average in the top percentile."

Shou raised an eyebrow.

Emi had a scholarship? He knew that Morigami gave out only one full ride a year. He'd applied for it himself, but hadn't gotten it. So it had gone to Emi, then.

He pushed away a pang of jealousy, thinking of how he'd struggled the past year to afford his tuition. He had to remember that Emi didn't even have a dad to help pay her way. Yeah, he could understand why he might feel a little jealous, but he had to accept those feelings and move on. The hardship of the past year had been made easier, since he'd been able to share the burden with his father.

But Emi had never had that option.

As they walked the rest of the way to school, Shou couldn't help remembering the parent he'd left behind. His mother had died in a car accident when he was very young; so young that he barely remembered her. He knew her face only from old pictures. But his life had never felt empty, because his dad had always been there. It had always been just the two of them, and he'd liked things that way.

But now, the times were changing. And so was he.

He couldn't be isolated any longer.

The heart is strengthened through bonds, he thought, recalling Igor's words. Otou-san, I . . . I'll make you proud this year. I swear it. It was his solemn vow.

Together, Shou, Kouta, and Emi walked the rest of the way to school.

In the lobby of Classroom Building 1, Kouta split off to head to his own homeroom. Emi headed toward the stairs, then paused to look at Shou. "You coming?" she asked.

With a few minutes left until the bell, Shou explained he wanted to check out the school store.

"All right," Emi said. "I'll see you up there, then."

Shou walked over to the school store, which sat in the lobby like a shop in an airport, somehow both open and yet apart. His stomach churned. The truth was he was terrified what the prices would be to arm himself for their foray into the Shadow world today. He had a feeling he would have to dip into his emergency fund.

He began to browse the different items. There were bows and arrows for the archery club, more shinai like Kouta's for kendo club, gloves for boxing, rapiers, epees, and sabres for fencing, bo staves, and . . .

Shou paused when he came to the baseball bats. He ran his fingers over the wood grain, tracing the word "Slugger" written on its length.

He'd always had an affinity for baseball. He'd been the star of his middle school baseball team, but that hadn't been saying much. He was definitely better than average. He had thought about trying to get into Morigami on a baseball scholarship, but he and his dad had decided against it. He would've had to spend all his free time training instead of working to put away money towards his tuition. If he hadn't ended up getting the scholarship, he wouldn't have been able to attend Morigami at all.

He turned the bat over, looking for the price sticker. ¥4,200.

He frowned. If it hadn't been for that crazy expensive bowl of ramen Kouta had talked him into getting yesterday, he probably wouldn't be feeling so apprehensive about buying the bat.

But . . .

He needed it, didn't he? Not only to fight, but if he ended up trying out for the baseball club . . .

He sighed. He needed a job, first and foremost.

Shou turned and was about to head off to class when he noticed a "Help Wanted" sign posted on the back of the register. Perfect! If he got a job here, he wouldn't have to go far, or pay for transportation.

He walked up to the counter, but there was no one to be seen. "Hello?" he asked. "Um, anyone there?"

"One sec," said a female voice. It sounded vaguely familiar to Shou.

A moment later, a short, pretty girl with shoulder-length spiky, messy black hair popped up from behind the counter. She set aside a red shopkeeper's apron, and buttoned a Morigami uniform jacket over her lithe, athletic form. "My shift's up and I gotta get to class, but Tanaka-san should be . . . Eh?!"

She took a step back, staring at Shou.

He took a step back also. The only thing missing was the purple contact lenses. But he recognized her immediately. "Rooftop Girl?" Shou asked.

"Whaaa . . . ? 'Rooftop Girl?' Who the hell're you calling—?"

"Sorry I'm late, Kaede-chan!"

Rooftop Girl froze.

An older woman with her hair in a bun walked into the store, and stepped around the counter. She reached down, retrieved another apron, and tied it around her waist. She spared a glance at Shou. "A customer?" she asked. "Don't worry, you hurry off to class, I'll take care of him. Unless . . . Kaede-chan, is this your boyfriend?"

"What?!" The girl shook her head vigorously. "N-no way, Tanaka-san!"

Shou looked away, feeling mildly insulted.

"If you say so," the older woman, Tanaka, said. She stifled a laugh. "Go on, then."

The girl — Kaede — scurried off, sparing a glare for Shou.

Shou watched her leave with a mixture of interest and confusion. That mystery girl was a student at Morigami? Well, she had said she was a second year. It was a lucky break, running into her like this; he needed to talk to her again. He needed information. She'd left too many questions in her wake when she'd appeared in the Shadow world. Now that he knew she worked at the school store, it wouldn't be all that hard to find her again. Especially if he took a job here, himself.

"Can I help you with something?" Tanaka asked.

Shou indicated the "Help Wanted" sign.

"Ah, yes," Tanaka said. "We're looking for someone to help with the four hour shift after school on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays. We pay ¥1,200 an hour, so ¥4,800 a day. Is that something you'd be interested in?"

Shou nodded, though he found himself looking down the hall that girl had gone down. He asked Tanaka who she was.

"Oh, that's Kazami Kaede-chan," Tanaka said. "She works the before and after school shifts on most days. She's my most dedicated employee. A real trooper. I'm sure you two will get to know each other." She winked.

Shou blanched. Was this Tanaka trying to play matchmaker or something?

Just then, the first bell rang.

Saved, Shou thought.

He thanked Tanaka-san and then headed off to class.

"All right, then, settle down, settle down," said Abe-sensei. The old man surveyed the room, his hands folded behind his back. "In my day, students would sit and wait quietly for class to start. The youth of today. Hmph."

Shou chuckled and glanced at Emi.

She smiled back, but she looked preoccupied.

Probably thinking about later today, Shou figured. Kudo-sensei's fate was still up in the air. They would have to do everything they could to save him.

"Okay, first up, cleaning duty," Abe said. "Any volunteers? Anyone? No?" He grunted. "The youth of today. No sense of responsibility. Why, back when—"

Abe was cut off by the crackle of the PA. "Attention, all students," said the voice of an older gentleman. "Attention, all students. There will be an emergency assembly in the auditorium immediately after homeroom. Attendance is mandatory. Thank you."

"Of all the rude . . ." Abe muttered. "I remember when people were courteous enough to wait until the end of homeroom for announcements so they didn't interrupt. Youth today."

Shou and Emi traded looks. She shrugged.

Briefly, he looked at Sato-san, to his left, but the Class President appeared as confused as everyone else.

What could this be about?

Fifteen minutes later, Shou took a seat next to Emi in the Morigami Academy's enormous auditorium. Two aisles separated three sections of thick-cushioned chairs upholstered with maroon fabric. It was a far cry from the old wooden auditorium chairs Shou was used to in Kamikawa.

Ahead lay a massive stage, though only the front was currently visible; heavy red curtains cordoned off the rest. Teachers milled about up there, talking in hushed voices.

As for the students, there was an omnipresent murmur as they speculated on what was to come.

"I heard the school made a deal with Freshness Burger and they're installing one in the school cafeteria," one student said.

"I heard the principal's resigning," said another.

The voices blended into a cacophony, each one offering a different explanation for the assembly. Shou heard everything from club activities being pushed back a week, to the school deciding to build a new music suite, to the sports fields being closed down after the Environment Ministry found toxic contaminants. He seriously doubted any of those were the truth. They hardly seemed reason enough for an "emergency" assembly.

"Oi, guys, long time no see!"

Shou turned to find Kouta sitting in the row behind them.

He grinned. "Any idea what this is about?" he asked.

Emi shook her head. "No clue."

"Did you try asking the Class President?" Kouta asked. "If anyone knows, it's Miss Prodigy."

"Miss . . . Prodigy?" Shou asked.

"Didn't you know? Sato-san's like the girl of a million talents," Kouta said. "That's why she's so popular, even though she's a stickler as a president."

"She is pretty amazing," Emi agreed. "She's the editor of the school paper, the head of the debate club, and she's first chair violin in the string orchestra."

"She's captain of the fencing team, too," Kouta added.

"I heard she also writes poetry and has a beautiful singing voice," Emi said. "I look up to her a lot. I can't believe everything she's accomplished when she's only a second year."

Shou couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. It sounded like they were talking about an urban legend, not a real person.

He said as much, but Kouta shook his head.

"She's the real deal, bro. Trust me."

"Ahem, ahem . . ." came a voice over the microphone.

The auditorium went silent. All eyes turned toward the stage, where a gangly teacher with a comb-over was checking the mic. When he was satisfied, he handed it over to the principal.

Principal Takahashi was a stern man in a slate-colored suit, his salt-and-pepper hair cut very close to his scalp. His skin was tan and creased like leather, and permanent frown lines were etched around his mouth. Shou wasn't surprised to see that the principal of the best high school in the country was such a serious man. It was his first time seeing Takahashi in person.

"My dear students," Takahashi said. His voice was low and gravelly. "I am afraid I must deliver some unfortunate news to all of you. We have now confirmed that one of our best and brightest teachers, Kudo Haruo-sensei, passed away early this morning."

Shou went cold. The shock hit him like a physical blow.

Kudo-sensei, dead? That couldn't be! They were supposed to save him today. They were supposed to . . .

He turned toward Emi.

All the color had drained from her face. She gripped the armrests of her seat, white-knuckled. Her eyes were wide and staring.

Say something, he told himself. Anything!

But he knew his words would ring hollow. He lacked the understanding to comprehend the depth of Emi's sorrow. Anything he tried to tell her would be empty. He felt paralyzed, unable to speak.

"We understand that this may come as a shock," the principal continued. "Unfortunately, we cannot afford to interrupt lessons this early in the year. Classes will continue as usual."

This elicited a groan from the students.

"In this time of tragedy, we have additional school counselors on duty in case any students should need to talk. Grief counseling will be available throughout the week, during school hours, and afterward. That is all. Dismissed."

Principal Takahashi stepped away from the podium. The students began to gather their things.

"This can't be possible," Kouta said.

Shou shook his head, unsure of what to say. How the hell had this happened, anyway?

As if in answer to his question, a nearby student said, "Yo, check it out." He held up his phone to his friend, sitting next to him. "It's the local news. This says Kudo-sensei jumped in front of a train on the Aragawa line this morning."

"Whoa," said his friend. "Crazy. Seems like that's happening more and more, lately."

"Oi, oi, oi!" yelled Kouta. "Have some consideration, you jerks!"

Faced with the anger of the kendo club captain, the two students immediately shut up.

Kouta turned to Emi. By the look on his face, he was as at a loss for words as Shou was. "Emi-chan, are you . . . uh . . . are you okay?"

She stood, her fists clenched, tears running silently down her cheeks. "No," she said. "I'm not."

"If there's anything we can do . . ." Shou said. To his ears, his words sounded puny and worthless. If only he'd been strong enough to save Kudo-sensei yesterday! Then Emi wouldn't have to go through this pain.

"I appreciate it," Emi said. "But for now, I . . . I need to be alone."

She hefted her backpack, and Shou watched her wend her way through the crowd. He couldn't help thinking she looked like a castaway, drifting out into a lonely, empty sea. The worst part was knowing that there was nothing he could do for her in her moment of grief.

Dammit, he thought.

Even with the power of Persona, he'd been too weak to spare her this. He looked at Kouta, but his friend appeared every bit as bewildered as he did.

I'll get stronger, he promised himself. So this won't happen ever again.

For now, though, he still wasn't strong enough.

He watched Emi disappear out the auditorium door.

He stood there . . .

Lost.