BUZZ
BUZZ
The boy's arm was hastily extended from under the bed sheets blindly seeking the alarm clock. After several seconds of failure Richard would have no more of it; he irritably removed the sheets from on top of him and targeted the infernal machine with unprecedented hatred. The alarm clock was finally silenced as he lay on the bed once again.
Unfortunately, he didn't feel particularly well rested in comparison to last night. His mind felt numb and tired, protesting even against the thought of leaving his bed, let alone going to school. And yet he kind of wanted to go anyway. Besides, it was Friday, he realized as he got off the bed.
He got dressed and quickly descended the stair case to find uncle Leonard and Lisa-Marie seated by the kitchen table, enjoying their breakfast and watching TV.
"Richard! Good morning!" said uncle Leonard moving his gaze away from the TV screen. "Tea or cereal?" he said as he got up, reaching for the kitchen cabinets.
"Umm, tea would be nice!" Richard answered eagerly as he sat across uncle Leonard's former seat, next to Lisa.
"Dad, can we watch cartoons now?" Lisa asked as broke her gaze with the TV screen, orienting her head towards her father.
"Not right now Lisa. I want to watch the morning news." said uncle Leonard as he switched the kettle on.
Richard observed as she pouted for a couple of seconds, but then proceeded to eat the rest of her cereal with a neutral look on her face.
"Richard, please don't tell me you'd rather watch cartoons too." chuckled uncle Leonard as he poured hot water in the cup.
"N-not really… I mean, I watch mine over the internet, so…" conceded Richard semi-seriously.
"Heh, really? That changes things then!" he said in a mixture of surprise and playfulness as he placed the tea bag in the cup.
"I'd like to do that too!" beetled Lisa with remarkable energy.
"Not a chance Lisa. You're too young to be using the internet." said uncle Leonard as he placed the cup intended for Richard in front him. "Make sure to stir it, Richard." Said uncle Leonard as he sat on his chair, motivated by the news finally starting.
Richard took a sip from his cup of tea mechanically. He never used to watch the news as he found it utterly boring, although company did make it more tolerable.
"Good morning ladies and gentlemen! You're watching the morning news of HOUND channel!" an energetic and well-dressed host beamed through the TV screen, addressing his audience.
"There still is much commotion over the disappearance and subsequent death of Marcus Nieves two days ago. As of now no fingerprints have been found, in part thanks to the heavy rain as well as the murderer's cautiousness. Thus the murderer cannot be yet identified, although signs of struggle do confirm that…"
Richard took another sip, this time peering into the screen with great interest. He honestly doubted he'd hear anything substantial from the news report, but he was very curious nonetheless.
"Alison," the host said as a second window made its appearance, "tell us more about Marcus!"
"Of course!" said the woman as focus was shifted to her, "We're standing here in front of Jump City College where Marcus used to study before the thread of his life was tragically cut. The…"
Richard let a short snort escape his nostrils as several thoughts raced within his mind. He always hated how reporters and the media in general would overdramatize situations. Sure, a death was a death and undoubtedly a tragic event but Richard was of the opinion that even someone's death could be dramatized too much. Couldn't they just state the cold, hard truth and be done it with?
"...not to mention Randall, Marcus's pet angler fish which he adoringly cared for…"
Lisa was surprised when her older cousin started coughing intensively, probably as to not drown from his own tea. Uncle Leonard motioned to get up in assistance but Richard quickly recovered, reassuring his older relative with a gesture.
"…the Nieves household has been kind enough to share with us Marcus's portfolio and his stunning work."
And sure enough, the TV screen shifted through several character design images, heavily inspired from medieval fantasy. One particular image caught his attention. It was an angry troll brandishing an enormous club. He shivered as unpleasant memories that he wanted to forget resurfaced.
"Marcus was a fan of role playing games and studied Entertainment Arts aspiring to be a game developer one day. He wished to apply his enormous talent in order to show us a glimpse of his visions and creative genius."
The sound paused momentarily, followed by the host appearing once again on air.
"Gas prices are on the rise once again as…"
Richard took a quick sip from his tea and hurriedly got up, hoping the walk to school would help him take his mind off the matter.
"Hey Richard, there's no need to rush." said uncle Leonard reassuringly, "I can drop you off school, like Lisa." he offered.
"Nah, it-it's ok… I like walking anyways…!" he responded rather awkwardly, his face radiating with concern.
Richard could feel his uncle apprehending his body language. Nevertheless he was truly thankful when his uncle had responded with a casual "See you later then!"
And so Richard headed upstairs to get dressed and retrieve his backpack, the half-empty cup of tea on the table a testament to his hurry.
…
Richard was sitting in the back row much like the day before. The classroom was almost empty just like yesterday, although Richard could spot a couple of new, unfamiliar faces. Besides Jillianne and the intimidating Flinders, one other person had caught his attention; a jock seated in the front row at the edge of the classroom eyed him intensively, until Richard had sat down.
Roy and Tramaine were still absent. Richard very much doubted he'd see any one of them today, although he did hope so. He hadn't met Garfield on the way like yesterday but he was positive he'd find him in the cafeteria after the bell ringed.
Although he never reciprocated Jillianne's glances towards his person during the entirety of the lesson, he was well aware of them. It was strictly a matter of choice that kept Richard's gaze nailed on the blackboard; he didn't feel confident enough to face her, not yet at least.
When the bell rang Richard did not hesitate one bit. He grabbed his backpack and soared through the school corridors with the cafeteria as his destination. Once there, it didn't take long for him to spot two lanky teens carrying their trays to a table by the large cafeteria windows.
As they sat, they noticed him closing the distance with own tray firmly in his grasp, and waved excitedly.
"Good morning dude!" greeted Garfield, followed by a more toned-down but still warm "Good morning!" by Tara.
Richard placed his tray in front of his seat and sat down, his fatigue due to his unsatisfying sleep fading away in the prospect of spending some time with his friends…
But could he call either one a friend? Admittedly, he had barely spent any time with Tara but what about Garfield? Sure, he could be obnoxious and immature but he more than made up for it with his inexhaustible energy and integrity.
Not only that but he had introduced Richard to Victor who was, as far as Richard could tell, Garfield's only friend in Jump City.
Obviously, Tara was a strong candidate for becoming one of Garfield's friends, although it was painfully obvious that the boy was hoping for something more…
He heard someone snapping his fingers.
"Huh…?"
"Yo dude! You kinda zoned out!" Garfield observed.
Richard produced a hum slightly irritated with himself. He must have been lost in his thoughts for quite a while for Garfield to feel the need to snap his fingers.
"Did you stay up until late or something?" Garfield asked in concern.
"No." Richard turned his head to gaze through the big windows. John Muir park was quite beautiful, even if the murder and the police patrols created a negative atmosphere.
"I didn't sleep very well though." He finished.
"Ah." Garfield nodded in empathy.
Richard had been avoiding thinking about the midnight channel as much as possible. Not only was it all so surreal as to make his head hurt, but he desperately felt he needed some time to come to terms with the traumatic experience of having his life threatened. Such thoughts caused images of the mysterious crow-knight, the ruined columns and the monstrous behemoth to resurface. He would have been dead if it wasn't for…
"Derzelas…" he whispered to himself.
"Huh? Come again?" Garfield expressed his increased concern, this time Richard feeling Tara's persistent line of sight being focused upon him.
"N-nothing…" said Richard dismissingly.
"Ummmm…" he stammered as he tried to think of a topic they could talk about.
"Oh yeah!" his features brightened as the epiphany hit him, "Are we going to Senor Hot Dog today? Maybe Tara could come too." he glanced towards the blond girl.
Richard was caught by surprise by what followed. Garfield's face immediately darkened as he lowered his head, staring at the contents of his tray.
"Ehm… I'm sorry guys… I kinda have to be home early today." He said with apparent regret, his voice completely neutral.
"O-oh hey…! That's alright! We could go some other time!" Richard said reassuringly, perplexed over Garfield's sudden mood change. Tara placed her hand on his shoulder as a means of comfort.
Fortunately, it didn't take long for Garfield to have a change of perspective. He looked up with a grin and declared that they'd definitely go next week, and promised Tara she'd get to meet Victor who was "pretty friggin' awesome" as he put it.
Richard's mind was not completely relieved of its original worries. However he had the realization that both he and Garfield had ultimately opted not to share what had bothered them. "Maybe it's just better that way…" he thought, and couldn't help but feel inexplicably bitter.
Now it was Garfield's turn to change the subject.
"…so I saw these fencing club posters…" he began, obviously in an effort to gather his thoughts, "I'm game... what about you guys…?
"Honestly, I'm not that interested…" Richard dismissed the proposal hastily. While he didn't feel particularly good about doing so, he wanted to forget everything that had to do with swords.
"I don't think I'll be joining any club, actually." said Tara.
"Damn… you guys are no fun…!" Garfield chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.
Richard wasn't sure if the response was genuine, or if Garfield was suppressing the full extent of his disappointment that he desired not to reveal. He relaxed however as his mind came up with another topic to bring up.
"Roy and Tramaine didn't show up today…" Richard remarked.
"Yeah, neither did Argent." Garfield placed his hands on the back of his neck, looking at the ceiling.
"Oh, she's in your class?" Richard asked. He hadn't considered the possibility until now, although it wasn't improbable at all.
"Yeah!" Garfield chuckled, "I'm sure they'll start attending by next week, like most folks."
"Does any one want water?" Tara got up and grasped her tray.
"I could use a glass of water actually," said Richard with gratitude, "thanks!"
"No problem!" she smiled, "What about you Garfield?"
The absent-minded boy waved his hand dismissingly as he stared at the table's wooden surface, obviously absorbed in deep thought. It was only when Tara had almost reached the tray case when the boy had a change of heart.
"Hey! Tara! Get me one too!" he shouted to the girl across the cafeteria.
She briefly stopped, turning to look at the boy signaling for her attention. She acknowledged him and continued on, only to collide with an obstacle that wasn't there before.
The sound of two trays hitting the ground and that of plates shattering was met with spirited clapping and whistling, generated by the minority that had decided to attend school today.
She looked down and then up again in shame, apologizing countless times. Richard and Garfield looked at the mess on the floor and the boy who was now eyeing Tara with palpable disgust and disrespect, both of them in shock.
"Watch where you're going weirdo!" he shouted.
Admittedly, he looked like your typical jock, dressed in extravagant red sports clothes now in dire need of being thrown into the washing machine.
Garfield swiftly got up from his seat and approached the scene in determination. Richard followed reluctantly, recalling the fact that he and the jock were classmates. This probably wouldn't end well.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he pointed to the stained floor. Tara was unable to look at him directly. Instead, she kept muttering that she was sorry, her eyes downcast.
"Get the fuck out of my way." He made half a step towards her, arms raised menacingly.
"Hey man," Garfield intervened placing his hands up defensively, "she said she's sorry! Chill!"
The boy took his eyes off the sobbing Tara, slowly orienting his eyes towards a short, lanky brown haired boy that had cemented itself between him and the girl. Initially, disbelief overtook his face, until it was replaced by even greater rage.
"Who are you? Her lawyer, or her boyfriend?" he pointed his index finger at Garfield, voice raised. By now, almost everyone else in the cafeteria had gathered around the three of them in total silence, fixated on observing the scene. This made Richard, who was in the front row of the crowd by now, feel even more uncomfortable.
"She said she's sorry dude! She didn't do it on purpose!"
"You think I fucking care? Look at what she did to my clothes!" he snapped at Garfield, pushing him away with his arms. Garfield fumbled a considerable distance – he almost fell on the surrounding crowd – before he regained his composure. Instead of being intimidated, this act of minor violence only served to aggravate him.
"What the hell is your problem, you fucking jock stereotype?!"
The crowd reacted vividly to Garfield's verbal counter. Richard felt the cafeteria echo with whistling, oohing and several statements along the line of: "Are you gonna take that?" If things had a possibility of getting worse before, it now was cemented in certainty.
"Everyone stop! That's enough!"
The tall boy had long, black hair that reached down to his waist, his face radiating a calm strength as he addressed the crowd and the infuriated jock.
"What the hell do you want Galloway?" he spat.
"Adonis." He said calmly, gathering his thoughts, "Come on now, that's enough don't you think? It was clearly an accident."
"I don't care. Have you seen this mess?" he gestured at his clothes and the floor.
"But is it worth it? Her, crying like this over it?" he was referring to none other than Tara, who was sobbing audibly, an infuriated Garfield protectively at her side.
Adonis looked left and right slightly with a frown, obviously conflicted by an internal debate.
"Fine." He said, his face mellowing somewhat. "You better watch your back, new guy." He turned his back on Tara and Garfield as he made his way through the disappointed crowd, heading for the restroom.
The crowd quickly dissipated as the boy urged Garfield, Tara and Richard to have a seat while a cleaning lady moved over to the tray on the floor, shaking her head in disapproval.
"Please excuse Adonis, I'm sure he meant no harm. There are days he's rather irritable, causing him to act…" the young man had paused, brainstorming for the proper words as he looked over a quite distressed Tara, his hand on her shoulder.
"Like a fucking jock stereotype." finished Garfield, pleased with himself despite the inexhaustible rage, persistently seething under the surface.
Richard let out a chuckle while Tara freed her reddened face from the hands, her sobbing notably decreasing in frequency.
"Well, that is ONE way to look at it." He conceded as a gentle smile gave his lips a new shape. "Welcome to Jack London by the way. I'm Garth Galloway… I'm responsible for the swimming team!"
"That's pretty cool! I'm Richard!" he said as he extended his hand for a handshake. Garth reciprocated eagerly, "I'm glad to meet you Richard!"
"I-I'm Tara" the blond girl giggled nervously at the sight of the handsome boy looking over her, and followed suit in extending her arm for a handshake.
Garth was surprised, but not negatively. "So you're feeling better now, I hope…"
"Yes!" she smiled, moving one seat to the side (wordlessly urging Garfield to do the same) so that Garth could have a seat as well.
Garfield's reaction was considerably less animated, however. He simply declared his name, his hands intertwined at the back of his neck.
"By the way," began Garth vividly, "we're having auditions for the swimming team starting next week. You guys should consider coming!"
"Yeah! Totally!" giggled Tara.
"Eh… well…" Richard trailed off. But before he could finish his sentence, Garfield got abruptly up.
"Going back to class folks. Don't wanna be late." He said neutrally.
Richard turned to look at the departing brown-haired boy. He did have an idea of what had happened, but did Tara? Did Garth? The boy's neutral expression did not reveal much…
…
Richard had been sitting by the fancy school gate for about two minutes now, in hopes spotting Garfield. But as the minutes passed Richard started to wonder if the agitated boy had set off for home immediately. After all, he did mention he had to be home early, so there probably wasn't time for them to hang out today.
He sighed deeply and began the way home, satisfied with the prospect of relaxing at home after such an eventful day. So when an all too distinctive feminine voice called out for him he didn't turn around, but simply froze in his tracks in reluctant anticipation.
"Yo! New kid! Hey!"
The source of the voice was much closer now.
The distinctly looking pink-haired girl popped up from his left, somewhat irritated.
"Hey, didn't you hear me?" she crossed her arms.
"A-ah, hey there. W-what's up?" he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, trying his best to dodge the question.
"Whatever. I didn't get to give your stuff back from yesterday. You kinda disappeared." She said with a hint of accusation as she rummaged her backpack. "Just a sec."
The only one missing right now was Jillianne's rather conspicuous friend; he sure hoped he wouldn't show up, but today wasn't his day, apparently.
"Yo J!" he waved at them as he approached. He stood before a nervous Richard and a seemingly oblivious Jillianne who was still rummaging her backpack.
"Ya comin'?" he inquired, his voice deep with a bestial quality.
"Go on… I won't… take… too… long…" she shook her bag in frustration.
"Yah whatevs. Just use protection, k?"
"Fuck off Baran." She said as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Richard, on the other hand, was staring at the ground in apparent embarrassment.
Apparently satisfied with the remark, Baran departed with a hearty laugh coming out of his lips.
"Here it is!" she produced Richard's pen.
"Heh, thanks!" he put the pen in his backpack, making sure the zipper was closed shut, "Most never remember to give these back. I've lost countless pens that way…" he chuckled.
"Glad to hear that." She paused, evaluating her statement.
"Eh-ok, I mean… you get the idea! So… what happened today? Did Adonis almost beat the crap out of your friend?"
"Uh… our friend Tara knocked his tray off – it was an accident – and Garfield stood up for her…" he shrugged.
"Damn… if only that idiot Garth hadn't intervened… it's been a while since we had a fight in school – not that it'd last long." She grinned.
"Umm… you like fights?"
"Of course! Who doesn't?"
"Errr… those who get hurt?" he scratched the back of his head.
"Good point." She conceded absent-mindedly.
"So… it doesn't look like you've been hanging out with the right people, if you catch my drift."
"A-ah yeah. Sorry… I appreciate the offer though."
"That's too bad, I guess."
"Umm, by the way, have you heard about Marcus Nieves?"
"Who?"
"Eh, you know, the boy that they found dead…"
"What about him?"
"Well… I was kinda wondering if you knew anything about it…"
"Why should I?"
"Well uh… you kinda look like the type of person that knows what's going on… and…"
"And?"
"…forget about it…"
"Listen, I'm gonna give you one piece of advice: if you wanna stay out of trouble, act like it."
"Uh… o-ok…"
"You're welcome!" she smiled with pretense sweetness, "Bye!"
He stared in the distance as she ran off, presumably to catch up with Baran.
…
Richard unlocked the door, setting foot into the barely illuminated household. He closed it behind him and took his shoes off, placing them in the designated "shoe place" as uncle Leonard called it. Despite the sound he had caused, he could see no-one, nor hear anything coming from any other room.
"I'm home!" he announced as he grasped his backpack on his right hand.
No response.
He looked left and right as he approached the kitchen table; a bag with take-out lay invitingly. Uncle Leonard had probably gotten it while getting Lisa home, Richard thought. He begun to ascend the stairs to his room as the eerie silence enveloped him like a snake.
The backpack was unceremoniously tossed on the bed, bouncing faintly on the sheets.
Now unburdened, the boy focused his attention on the matter at hand. Both Lisa and Uncle Leonard should have been home by now, so where was everybody?
He knocked on the door of his uncle's bedroom; there was no response. He opened it anyway as curiosity got the better of him, only to be greeted by an empty, dark room.
He then oriented his gaze towards the door to Lisa's room. The wooden door was adorned by a non-descript girly illustration attached to it.
He quietly closed the gap between himself and the door, his eyes fixated on the childish piece of art. He examined it at length trying to make sense of it.
It was your typical fairy from what he could make out; pink dress, wings and crown. However what caught the boy's attention was a smaller fairy next to the big one; it was wearing a blue dress. He sighed and knocked on the door.
He stood there in total silence for a couple of minutes, his mind completely devoid of any thought, expecting to hear something. He had completely dismissed giving the drawing a second look all that time he was being accommodated in his uncle's house.
The voice he heard coming through the door was not one telling him to come in; it was very faint, like a whisper, and periodic too. He inwardly debated his desire to open the door nonetheless and despite the fact that he felt quite uncomfortable, he pushed it open in a peak of courage.
Little Lisa was vacantly staring at him, her head protruding above a girly dollhouse. Richard returned the vacant gaze, unsure about how to act. A few moments passed and much to Richard's inconvenience, she returned focused her attention to her toys once again, just as vacantly.
"Uh, h-hi Lisa…" he broke the awkward silence.
"…hi…" she whispered, her gaze fixed on the dollhouse.
"Where's dad?" he inquired, his hands nervously grasping the door.
"…daddy is at work…"
"Ah, I see… what are you playing?"
"I'm playing with Barbara and Kevin!" she declared as she looked up, her face slightly brightening up, "They are married, and Kevin is always near her so that nothing happens to her." She finished a little more slowly.
"…they must really love each other…!" was all that Richard could come up with at the moment.
"Mhm!" she nodded, smiling.
…
Richard was staring at the ceiling of his room, the sheets reaching up to his waist and his hands behind his neck, his mind insistent on chewing over the events of the day.
Had he messed up during the incident with the jock guy? Should he have supported Garfield more? Stand up for him not only to the jock, but also Garth as well? Was it a factor that caused Garfield to leave the table like that?
He got up and turned the pillow upside down. He felt its cold, refreshing surface calm him down just a little bit.
It had frustrated him how he had paid absolutely no attention to the drawing on Lisa's door. Of course, he had made sure not to mention Lisa's mother out of respect, but he'd be lying to himself if he said the topic didn't interest him.
It went without saying that both father and daughter missed the woman, but not seeing any evidence of it disturbed him. Until now, anyway. Lisa's drawing was such evidence and in a way, proof that the woman had existed at some point, and that they missed her.
Apparently satisfied with the analysis, his mind allowed him to finally fall asleep.
…
He woke up to a blurry plethora of shades of blue and the sound of faintly howling winds. He closed his eyes again, dissatisfied with prospect of coming face to face with the mysterious Igor once again.
When he finally opened his eyes he was greeted by the sight of none other than Igor, looking at him expectantly.
"Greetings, Mr. Richard. It is my pleasure to have you once again here, in the Velvet Room." He said with a melodic, captivating voice.
"Umm, hi…!" Richard fidgeted nervously in his seat.
"It appears your power has grown significantly after our last session. That is most excellent news, no?"
"W-wait… are you referring to…" Richard struggled, unable to put his thoughts into words.
"The persona that you have awakened is a very special manifestation of a portion of who you truly are. It is a façade, so to speak, that can be used to face the hardships of life." Igor elaborated, his eyes looking back at Richard's intensively.
Richard looked down into his lap in disbelief.
"Then… the Midnight Channel… all of it was real…?" he inhaled deeply.
"Mr. Richard, it would appear that you are… agitated. Would a drink ease your mind, perhaps?" Igor inquired.
"I… guess so…" Richard rubbed his forehead in uncertainty.
Igor raised his hands to face-level and clapped twice.
Richard heard the characteristic sound of heels walking across the jet floor. As the source of the sound got closer and closer, an elegant air hostess dressed in blue appeared in sight, presumably coming from a frontal area of the plane.
"Mr. Richard, I'd like you to meet my dearest assistant, Catherine." He introduced the woman in blue, gesturing towards her person, "She is a resident of this place, like myself."
She had long, wavy black hair that contrasted with her pale skin. Her nose was big, but her face overall was nonetheless very feminine, having a quite majestic quality about it. Richard stared at her, as if she reminded him of something or someone. She in turn, returned the stare; he felt as if he was being scanned by the intensity of her gaze.
"Greetings. I 'm Catherine." she nodded in the slightest as to greet him, her voice deep yet feminine, her expression neutral.
"I am here to accompany you on your journey, dear guest." She smiled.
"Catherine, would you be kind enough to get us something to drink? I wish that our guest feels as welcome as possible." He said, his eyes not moving away from Richard.
"Of course." She bowed, her face adorned by a faint, serene smile, "What will you be drinking?"
"I believe the situation calls for two glasses of Clairette de Die."
"Right away." She left the two of them alone once again.
"Mr. Richard, I believe that it is expectant of you to have questions in regards to recent experiences, correct?"
"Well… what can you… tell me about the midnight channel? And those monsters inside it?"
At that point Catherine returned with two glasses in one hand, a bottle in the other.
"I think you must be referring to the Shadow World. It is a realm parallel to your own that is inhabited by shadows."
Catherine handed Igor his glass, then it was Richard's turn.
"Shadows?" he inquired, his eyes captivated by the sparkling wine being poured.
"Yes." Igor nodded as Catherine poured some sparkling wine into Richard's glass.
"T-thank you." He addressed the assistant.
"You're welcome." she smiled and left the two of them alone once again.
"Shadows stem from the repressed emotions and thoughts of human beings." Igor brought the glass under his nose, savoring its scent.
"Unfortunately," he continued, "they are quite hostile to human life – only those with the inner strength to summon forth a persona can hope to defend themselves." He took a sip, his eyes still fixated on the boy.
"Which brings us to why you have been summoned here at the moment. The contract dictates that we should help you in this endeavor, Mr. Richard."
"I never…I don't… I don't want to be a part of this…" he let the words escape him, exhaling deeply his face disfigured by a stressful expression.
"…I just want to be normal…" he said after several moments.
"Mr. Richard, I understand your hesitation. However, no matter how hard the task may seem, this may be the chance you have subconsciously been calling out for years, to be given to you."
"I-I understand that…" Richard sighed, "I'll need to think about this." He took a sip from his glass; he didn't like it very much.
"Of course. I am fairly certain you will have made up your mind by the time our next session is in order."
"…yeah…" he took yet another sip and winced.
"Sorry… I don't drink too much alcohol. I'm not used to it…" he conceded.
"No need to apologize. It is an acquired taste, after all. Until next time, my dear guest."
Richard's vision twisted beyond recognition as the dream changed. He mumbled something incoherent in his sleep.
...
AUTHOR'S NOTES
Special Thanks to the Mysterious Beta Reader who does not want acknowledgement; He/she was great help in regards to this chapter and I look forward to working with him/her in the chapters to come!
Special Thanks to Shaq for sharing his passion for fanfiction and the persona series with me!