Wednesday.

I hadn't even gotten into work yet when I received a call. Though, to be honest, I was stuck in the middle of a traffic jam so it wasn't like I didn't have time. While others preyed on the extensive line of cars with creative vocabularies, I mostly kept the obscenities to myself.
In the space of my car. Under my breath. It was very therapeutic, alongside envisioning the traffic being a direct result of Haiji Towa spontaneously bursting into flames on his motorcycle.

"Hello?" I asked, only mostly sighing into the word. Now that I'm thinking about it, years and years of mothering teenagers and dealing with horrific backstory bullshit has made me an awfully rude person to talk to.
"Nagisa?" Came a familiar voice, but one that I couldn't quite pin down. It sounded like a whisper, the kind that a person might use if they were doing something questionable. Like ordering magazines. Not… any kind particularly. Just magazines. I was half-tempted to respond with 'no' and see if he'd hang up on me.
"Who is this?" I asked slowly, rolling forward in the traffic, just a bit. I could see what was slowing the traffic now. There was some idiot with a plastic bag over his head there, speaking to the police. I couldn't really tell the nature of the incident, but maybe he'd been pulled up on drug charges or something. I wouldn't doubt it, seeing what he was wearing.
"Uh… Daimon. Masaru Daimon."

I hung up on him immediately. Not today, sportbrain. As I drove further, again, into traffic, I could see the flashy vests of another line of police officers. It looked as though they were doing breathalyser tests and pulling over every few cars. An officer waved my car over to the side, and with a tense exhale, I followed along. My phone was ringing again, by the time I'd pulled up, and I stared at the officer blankly as he glanced at it in the passenger seat. It stopped ringing.
"I'm going to need you to blow into this."
"Sure." I was so screwed. I took a deep breath in—and the phone started ringing again. I tried to ignore it. The officer, instead of telling me to turn it off, instead stared it down, and then me.

"Go ahead, answer it."
I squinted.
"No." …And then quickly changed my mind. This guy had a breathalyser in his hand.

"Yes?"

"Heyyyy, Nagisa, you accidentally hung up on me, huh?"

"I'm in the middle of something."

"That's cool, I'll just be a sec. Did you get that letter?"

"Daimon, I get a lot of letters. Bills mostly."
He seemed to pause before responding.

"Oh, right. Um… like… an invitation?"

"Yes." I didn't really feel a need to say anything more than that.

"Oh. Are you going to go?"

"…The thing about blackm—" right, police officer. "Tie— invitations is that you don't really have much of a choice."

"Yeah, but like, should I go?"

"…No. No, Daimon. You're the exception. Nothing will happen to affect you if you don't go. You're magical."

"…So…? I can come and crash with you?"

"What part of—"

"Thanks, bye!" He hung up. He hung up.

"I'm going to ki-…ss…. her. I'm straight. That… wasn't a guy."
The officer stared blankly at me.
"No, seriously. I live with a girl. –I have pictures on my phone, do you want to see? I'm straight."

"Dude, I… don't care. Just blow into this, please."

"…I'm straight." A mutter, before blowing.

I waited for the number to screw me over, but… oh, thank god. Only 0.29 percent. I was safe by a whole 0.01 percent. I lifted my head and gave him an innocent expression.

"Can I go now?"

"You really are drunk."

So, I spent my morning being arrested, and calling anybody other than Kimiko to bail me out. I promised her I'd stop drinking. So, Yoshito it was. Matsuo Yoshito was a baker. I went to Kibougamine with him, and we talked on the occasion. Since he stayed in Towa City after we graduated, I often saw him around when I needed to get fresh bread. He was a friend, I suppose, but not great if you wanted… a particularly lengthy conversation. That worked out well for me, though.

"Don't ask…" A mutter, with both of us walking out of the police station. They all seemed to know him, there, so there was that. Not… because of him, though. Because of his sister, Nadeko, who murdered two people in high school. Understandable.

"Oh… okay." That was it. That was the entire conversation. My licence was suspended, only briefly since I was technically under the limit when I was tested, so Yoshito had the pleasure of driving me home. The police called Haiji for me, which was just peachy. I had a feeling I'd have extra unnecessary work to do, now, as a result.

The car trip consisted of Yoshito trying to sing along to the radio under his breath and immediately shutting up the moment he saw me looking at him. I didn't really care, though. I was more fixated on that blackmail. Despite my indifference to the matter to the ear of Daimon, it was beginning to make my skin crawl. I was anxious about this 'reunion'. I was anxious about what would happen there… and I was anxious about seeing the others again. What could ten years out of high school mean for each of them? I only really had a vague idea. I sometimes saw mentions of Kotoko on the news or her face in movies, but that was it. I knew Masaru was doing something with sportball and Jataro was… arting, probably. Monaka, though…

I didn't really know… and the thought of finding out scared me.

How would I feel if she had a family? Happy, angry, or… jealous?