A/N: Holy crap the feedback last chapter was amazing, I'm just speechless 3 Thank you all.

Fieryfoxpaws: Not yet, but she will once SDR2 starts. AI Chiaki only came about when the NWP did.

Guest: That'll be answered here, actually. The tldr version is that she isn't involved, but she is tracking the progress.

Shevi-hime: Nah, the message in her cottage wouldn't do anything. Izuru set the trigger to be auditory, not visual. (Plus she actually gets it wrong…oops! Guess she was just panicking)

TenraiTsukiyome: Junko is pretty uncaring about what Izuru does in canon (dismissive about not knowing where he is in DR0, blithe when he leaves), and there's no indication she sent him to Chiaki's body in the first place or even knows of his attachment to her. Him asking about the despair of murdering Yasuke wouldn't set off alarm bells either—it'd probably actually make her happy since it can be taken as him showing an interest in despair. So there's actually not a lot for her to be suspicious of.

Chiaki sorely wished she hadn't put off reading those extra notes. But she'd been too depressed to read them after Kamukura-kun left, and then it had been the next day, and suddenly she had an appointment at 10 AM she hadn't prepared for. She scanned them on the subway ride over, toast jammed in her mouth, brain shifting through stock phrases and techniques to form some kind of game plan. Still, when she walked into the office, she felt the kind of dread that came from going up against a tough boss without any proper equipment.

The office was not hers, or at least not hers alone. It was set aside for the interns to share, and so none of them could personalize it. Therefore, it was rather plain, with beige wallpaper, cushy white chairs and couches, and a desk. Chiaki sat behind it, fingers jittering against her leg as she glanced at the clock. She wished she had one of her consoles to calm her down. She resisted the urge to take out her phone and play a mobile game—that wouldn't make a good first impression.

After a few minutes, the door opened and Nakajima Kanon strode in, exuding confidence and command. Her heavy makeup was garish under the room's bright lighting, and again Chiaki was reminded uncomfortably of Enoshima.

Swallowing down her nerves, Chiaki smiled at her. "Hi there! Make yourself at home. I'm Watanabe Keiko, therapist intern at the seventh branch, and—"

"They couldn't even get me a real therapist?" Nakajima-san interrupted, eyebrows pulling down into a deeper scowl as she sank onto the couch. "That's so wack."

From what the notes said, Nakajima Kanon had been brought in as a tense teenage bundle of anger, hate, grief, and confusion. While Hagakure-kun's report tried to paint her as nicely as possible, it had still admitted she held a dislike for the Future Foundation, and she'd been described as staring coldly at the employees on the helicopter ride back. With her arms crossed and body curled defensively into itself, that animosity seemed to have followed her in.

Antagonistic from the start went down on the paper, the pencil's movement sharp and jarring with restrained vexation. "I may not have a license, but I did study and work hard for this position. And I have plenty of resources and people to help me handle your case. So while I have zero experience, I am trained."

"Right…" The teenager fell silent. From her closed-off behavior to the way she seemed to be gauging Chiaki, it seemed Nakajima-san wouldn't be the first to talk. So it was up to her.

She exhaled, slowly, telling herself to lock away her issues. Diplomacy was important. Another breath, and—okay. Okay, she could do this. How to start? All the questions she should ask seemed too personal. Oh god, I'm going to mess up. "You don't seem very comfortable. Have you seen a counselor before? Or is there something in the room upsetting you, somehow?"

"No, I haven't, and no, there isn't."

She took a guess. "Then, is it because I'm with Future Foundation?"

Nakajima-san's eyes widened slightly. Then she nodded, face closed off.

Should she ask why? This was way too soon for that kind of question, wasn't it? She tried anyway.

For a very, very brief moment she saw Nakajima-san tense. Her hands curled into fists and her eyes flashed dangerously. She almost looked like she was considering attacking her. Chiaki swallowed, throat drying. Patients assaulting their therapists wasn't unheard of, and there was a panic button under her desk for if she ever felt in danger. She told herself she wouldn't need it, she'd learned self-defense for exactly this reason, but the report had painted Nakajima-san as such a strong warrior...would she really be able to protect herself? Despite herself, her finger strayed towards the button.

Then the younger girl visibly, forcibly exhaled. The tension in both their bodies drained away. "Mind your own business."

Okay. Sore subject, then. "Alright, we don't have to talk about it if it makes you uncomfortable."

Her eyes narrowed. "You're not gonna push me?"

"No," Chiaki said, surprised. "Why'd you think I would?"

"Because therapists are super nosy and self-important, right? And Future Foundation's super nosy and self-important. So you combine the two…" Nakajima-san spread her hands. "You get a totally wack double-whammy."

"That's an interesting phrase." Her hand jotted down the slang and the jab at the Future Foundation. The notes weren't lying…she really does have a problem with us. "Well, I won't lie—I am here to ask questions. That's my job. But it's also my job to help you, and forcing you to talk won't do that."

A derisive snort. "Yeah, but your inexperience doesn't do onders-way for my onfidence-cay."

Should she put her foot down? Probably. She needed to be polite but not a pushover. Chiaki let just the tiniest bit of steel enter her tone. "Nothing will get done if you don't even give me a chance, Nakajima-san."

Silence. Then a sigh. "Fine. I did promise that idiot I'd give it a try."

Chiaki smiled. "Thank you! So, first I've got a questionnaire for you to fill out, just some basic information…"

The session went…alright, Chiaki thought. Deciding not to ruin the fragile trust she was trying to build, she had steered the conversation away from any topics related to the Future Foundation. Instead, she asked about Nakajima-san's captivity and how she was readjusting. 'That idiot' Nakajima-san had mentioned turned out to be Hagakure-kun, who she'd met in Towa City. She'd given only a vague account of how they'd met and their adventures, but it seemed like they did have an odd sort of friendship. By the end of the session, Chiaki's papers were covered with notes on everything from Nakajima-san's verbal tics to the cocky relish she'd described destroying Monokumas with.

"Well, we're done here," she smiled. "Thank you again for your cooperation. I'll see you next week, same time?"

"I guess," Nakajima-san muttered, shrugging. She'd remained reserved throughout the session, but at least she wasn't actively antagonistic anymore. Still, Chiaki couldn't stop remembering that brief moment when she thought the younger girl was going to attack her, the fear that had seized her body.

When her client had gone, Chiaki made her way to her supervisor's office to review. It was an orderly room, with diplomas hanging on the walls, alphabetized bookshelves, and steel-stained filing cabinets. Ueno Fumio was a man in his late forties, obviously not entirely Japanese by his much darker skin and broader features. Chiaki had heard more than a few scathing comments directed at him for his mixed heritage, but most didn't say it to his face; he had a notoriously sharp tongue and a high rank. They weren't particularly close; they didn't have a lot in common, and he was too impersonal. But she did trust his experience and insights.

She sat down across from him and waited. He was filling out some more notes, and Chiaki fidgeted, trying not to feel like she was sitting before the principal. After a few more minutes of his pen scratching the paper, Ueno-sensei placed them aside and crowned his fingers, peering at her over the tips. In his hoarse voice, he said, "So, you just got back from your first session. Congratulations. How did you feel?"

"She scared me," Chiaki confessed, flushing with shame just for saying it. "It felt like just mentioning the words 'Future Foundation' was inviting an attack. I had to dance around that, and then I got unsure of what else I could bring up, so I just ended up playing it safe."

Enoshima's face flashed through her mind's eye again. Stop. Stop associating Nakajima-san with Enoshima just because of her makeup. It's not her fault…

Ueno-sensei raised his eyebrows. "Is that going to be a problem, working with her?"

Chiaki knew what he was offering—to refer Nakajima-san to someone else, if she felt like she couldn't handle her. But it was her first case, how bad would it look if she wanted to quit after just the first session, just because she had issues? "…No sir. I'm just worried about how well I can do this, especially if she hates us."

"You're trained. You'll do fine. I've told you before to stop second-guessing yourself. You're the therapist, she's the patient. You need to be more assertive." He stood up, briskly picking up a sheaf of paper and handing it over. "Now, your schedule for the rest of the day…"

And so her first official therapy began. Once a week, at 10 AM, Nakajima-san would come in and Chiaki would spend fifty minutes trying to get her to open up. She was difficult to work with; Chiaki did have some experience with bossy, aggressive people—of her classmates, Saionji-san especially had been hard to win over, and even she had to take her in small doses—but complicating things were her own feelings towards the girl. She was ashamed to say she couldn't help feeling afraid of her, and the uncertainty of a first case and fear of messing up made her slow and cautious. Other than that, there was only one other change in her schedule.

Covering a yawn, Chiaki's eyes trailed dully over the words on the screen. The seventh division's archives were stored digitally and accessible to anyone with clearance. Her internship pass didn't allow much, though, definitely not enough to take a look at current projects. She was starting to think there really was no way to track the Neo World Program until its completion was announced. Guess I can give up any hope of joining…though if they're as late in production as Kamukura-kun said, they're probably getting into specialized territory, so I doubt I could offer much…

"Watanabe-san? Why are you still here?"

She jolted up, twisting so fast in her chair she almost fell over. "Gekkogahara-san! What are you doing here?"

The room was completely empty; she must have been absorbed to not notice the Ultimate Therapist rolling in. Although the seventh division's computer lab was public and she hadn't really been doing anything wrong, she still couldn't help feeling an instinctive rush of guilt.

Gekkogahara-san arched an eyebrow. "I was leaving, and I saw you through the open door. Your shift is over, right? Shouldn't you have gone home by now?"

"Um, yeah, I was just…" Chiaki glanced at the screen. "…doing some research."

"Is it anything I can help with?"

"Oh, no thank you. But…" She hesitated, weighing how much she thought she could get away with. Gekkogahara-san was a fairly nice, laid-back employer, so she wouldn't mind a few questions, right? "…If you don't mind me asking…you're in charge of anti-despair therapy research and projects, right?" That was common enough knowledge.

"Yep, yep!"

"Well, has the seventh division made any progress on that?"

The other woman hummed. "You have a particular reason for wanting to know, don't you?"

Her heart almost stopped, but Gekkogahara-san's tone wasn't accusatory. Just gently inquiring. She probably just senses I have hidden intentions, even if she doesn't know what they are…therapists are scary sharp. Exhaling, her fingers twisted the fabric of her skirt. "I-I just worry sometimes. What if what we're doing isn't enough? What if our only option is more violence, and things degenerate again?"

Gekkogahara-san's response was immediate and certain. "I don't believe that will happen. I believe there's always a non-violent solution, if you look hard enough. I can't give you any specifics on our projects, but rest assured we do have several promising ones in the works. Hypothetically, they could revolutionize anti-despair therapy as we know it, and by doing so stop the Remnants in a peaceful manner!"

"So you'd give even the Remnants a second chance?"

She seemed to choose her words carefully. "Let's say…I'd give them the benefit of the doubt. But that's the reason I agreed to become branch head—because I wanted to help explore every avenue of possibility for dealing with them." Usami laughed. "It sounds silly to say, but I guess you could say what I'm working on…is my hope. And once it's done, it'll be shared with the world. So don't you worry! We'll definitely find a way!"

It sounds like Kamukura-kun was right, and she will be announcing the program's completion after all…I figured the odds of him being wrong were low, but it's still a relief. And it's also reassuring to know my friends will be at the mercy of people like her and Naegi-kun. "I see…you're a good person."

"No more than anyone else here. But thank you."

As Chiaki logged off the computer and stood, Usami's voice gave her pause. "Are you happy, Watanabe-san?"

She turned, blinking in surprise. The Ultimate Therapist was gazing up at her, eyebrows furrowed in a look of intense concentration. "Why do you ask that?"

"Every time I see you around, you're always alone. And recently you've looked very sad. The other interns haven't been shunning you, have they?"

"Oh. No, I just like being alone." Untrue. But her fellows had noticed that she was never accepting their offers of hanging out, and eventually stopped asking. "And, um, recently, I've had some…personal stuff going on. That's it."

Thinking of Kamukura-kun was a double-edge sword. It sent her heart soaring every time she remembered their time together, his admittance of his own love for her, their kiss—she swore her lips were still tingling from that. And then, her heart would clench painfully when she remembered he was gone and had no idea she was alive. She missed him, and she was so afraid she'd mess up again.

We'll see each other again. We have to.

Usami hummed. "I see. You know our therapy services extend to our own employees, right?"

"I-I know. I'll sign up if I need to." Hopefully that would reassure her. Because holy crap, the last thing Chiaki needed was being forced into therapy. Passing the requisite psychiatric evaluation, to see that she was suitable for her job, hadn't been too bad, but having to consistently lie her way through therapy sessions would be a nightmare.

"Well, alright." Gekkogahara-san turned away, rolling over to the door. "Have a good evening, Watanabe-san."

She'd had a thought, a tentative one, for a while now. Something she had found while browsing the archives stuck in her mind, and after accepting that she wouldn't find anything about the Neo World Program, Chiaki had started to hunt down resources about this new idea instead. Finally, a few weeks after her talk with Gekkogahara-san, after more failures to pull anything from Nakajima-san, Chiaki decided to put it into effect.

"What's that?" Nakajima-san arched an eyebrow as Chiaki broke routine to sit next to her on the couch. She reached into the bag with her and pulled out her Game Girl Advance. Flicking it on with a smile, she turned it around so Nakajima-san could see the screen.

"It's the first Power Pro Kun Pocket Baseball! I've been doing research about video game therapy, and since you were a baseball team manager, and your cousin was the Ultimate Baseball Player, I thought you might enjoy playing something about a familiar subject."

The subject of video game therapy had fascinated her the moment she stumbled across it, that a talent she had once regarded as useless could not just make friends, but be beneficial to people. She'd been leery of bringing her games out, but she figured as long as no one saw her playing and realized how good she was, it'd be fine. It wasn't as if the only people who liked video gamers were Ultimate Gamers, after all. Her excitement about her favorite subject had even chased away the unease she usually felt around the girl.

Nakajima-san seemed unimpressed as she looked at the title screen, with its cutesy series mascot and large kanji. "Like, how old is this thing? This stuff is so lame."

"It's not lame!" Chiaki barely bit back and you're one to talk, using slang that dead. "It may just be a spin-off from the main series, but it helped pave the way for a very successful franchise, with fourteen entries! It combines baseball mechanics with RPG elements for seamless gameplay and has a storyline with multiple endings! It's an amazing series!"

Nakajima-san's eyes widened. "Whoa, geez, don't get so efensive-day about it."

Chiaki exhaled, trying to reign in her irritation. She could never not get defensive when people mocked things she loved, whether it was games or people. But…ugh. She should really know better than to be so emotional. She was the therapist here, for goodness' sake.

Shame for her conduct and another breath calmed her down. "You're right…sorry. That was unprofessional of me."

"I really didn't expect you to be the type to like this stuff." Nakajima-san's eyebrows furrowed as she gingerly took the console. "Is this seriously what you want me to do this session? Just play wa—play video games?"

"Yep."

"Why?"

"I think you'll have fun, and it'll help our relationship." She smiled softly, remembering how much easier it had been to connect to her classmates, Hinata-kun, and Kamukura-kun once she started playing with them. "Even if people don't play together, or if one person always wins…I feel they can still connect through video games. Give it a try!"

With a shrug, Nakajima-san started up a new game. Chiaki leaned in to watch her play, practically bouncing to talk about how great it was. She was certain the younger girl would love—

The brunette gave her a withering look. "Uh, personal boundaries, have you heard of them?"

And just like that, she recalled Enoshima, her mocking words and cutting tone as she ran that maze. All her excitement and joy drained out, and without meaning to, she shivered. Chiaki scooted away until there was a respectable distance between them. "Sorry."

It didn't work out the way Chiaki hoped. All the baseball genes must have gone to Kuwata-kun, because Nakajima-san was awful at it even in fiction. The RPG elements of this game added another layer of difficulty for her, having no experience with the genre. Chiaki's coaching attempts grated on her nerves, and she snapped and got even more agitated, and that made her do worse, and—it was just bad all around.

By the end of the session, Nakajima-san had stormed out in frustration, and Chiaki was tiredly looking over all her meticulous notes on video game therapy, wondering how she could do so well with her friends, and so awfully here.

"It's because you did it wrong," Ueno-sensei scolded, sounding impatient when she told him about it. "Recreational types of therapy aren't a 'method of bonding' or however you described it, they're techniques to help with meeting therapeutic goals. This isn't what I meant when I told you to be more assertive."

"Sorry," was all she could say, head ducked. She'd just gotten so excited, to hear about the possibilities of using her talent with her job… "I thought if she could relax, she'd have an easier time talking to me…" And maybe I'd find her less scary, too…but that backfired.

"While creating a relaxed atmosphere is important, you can't treat her like a friend. She's your client."

She hunched over. But…I don't know how to handle people I'm not friends with… It had worked in the simulations, thinking of them as friends, so…why not here? If she'd tried playing games with the simulation patients, would this have happened too?

Ueno-sensei sighed at her silence. She got the impression her slowness was irritating him. "Do you even know what goals you're aiming for?"

"Helping her and the Towa City rescuees to recover from their ordeal," she defended. "I'm trying my best, but she won't open up!"

"Then focus on that. I know you want to help, but don't try to force it. After, if you think it would be beneficial, your client agrees and you can find a game she'd like, you can try your video game therapy again. If not, there are other methods available."

"So, New Years' is coming up. Do you have any plans, Nakajima-san?"

"That loser and his mom invited me to go to a shrine with them." She was reading a fashion magazine today. Ever since that failed video game therapy attempt a month back, these sessions too-often devolved into awkward silences. The other girl had actually started bringing things to fill the time. "Don't really have anything else to do, so I said yes."

Celebrating a festival with a friend instead of her family…does that mean she has a poor relationship with family? Or…? "If aren't going with your family, Nakajima-san, are they…?"

A long pause. Nakajima-san was staring very intently at her magazine. Then: "Yeah." Though the word was said sharply, there was hollowness in it too. "They died in the Tragedy. I only found out after I got out of that city."

The only family Nakajima-san ever talked about was her cousin, 'Leon-oniichan'. Though he was dead, she was clearly filled with admiration for him; she could and had spent entire sessions just babbling on about how wonderful he'd been. Chiaki got the feeling she was a little too attached to him. But she was here to help, not judge, and there probably wasn't any harm in her feelings since Kuwata-kun was dead.

But for all she spoke of her cousin, Nakajima-san devoutly avoided talking about her immediate family. For her to finally confess something like this…it meant real progress, right? "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, you and everyone else who hears that."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She scoffed, forcefully flipping the page. "Who would I talk to? Hagakure? You?"

That stung. "It's what I'm here for."

"But you're intimidated by me." Chiaki flinched under the weight of the accusation. Nakajima-san set the magazine down and glared. "You do a pretty good job of hiding it, but you are. I can tell. So why should I trust someone who doesn't trust me?"

She's sharper than she lets on… Chiaki lowered her head.

"…You're right, Nakajima-san. I have been wary of you. Scared, even, at times. Part of that is because of some old ghosts, part of that is because you make it very clear how little you think of the Future Foundation. And as a member, I can't help but fear if that animosity extends to me. But it was wrong of me to let those unprofessional emotions get in the way of my job, and I apologize."

A moment of silence. The younger girl sighed. "…Look, I don't…I guess I can see why you'd think that. I have been pretty vocal about how much I hate the Future Foundation, but I'm not some wack thug who uses violence for everything. And you seem like an okay person. Really weird at times, but okay. So I wouldn't, like…attack you or anything."

Chiaki exhaled, feeling some indescribable knot in her chest loosen up. It felt…good to get that out in the open. It really was her fault for letting that distrust hang over them for as long as it had. Maybe now that they'd cleared the air, they could finally move forward as a proper therapist and patient. "I'm glad to hear that. Out of curiosity, Nakajima-san, why did you keep coming to these sessions if you didn't trust me?"

Nakajima-san shrugged. "I dunno. I guess…I thought I didn't really have a choice? Like, you're the one the big wigs assigned, so it's you or bust."

"You don't want to 'bust'?" That was a good sign.

"I dunno," she repeated. "That idiot's mom—she likes keepings tabs on us—thought it was a good idea, and she's got her head on straight, so…"

"Well, if you really want, I can help you look for another therapist, so you can talk to someone you actually trust. …I'll understand if you decide to do that, after what I just admitted." Though knowing it was because of her own failings as a therapist would stay with her for a long time.

For a scary moment, Nakajima-san looked as if she were considering it. Then she sighed and shook her head. "No…it's fine. I think you, at least, are trying to be a good person. I still haven't made up my mind about the rest of this organization, but I guessI can try trusting you a little more."

"And I can try being less unprofessional and prejudiced moving forward. So," Chiaki clasped her hands and leaned forward. "now that we've decided to start over: do you want to talk about it?"

"Nah." But maybe she really did, because a few seconds later Nakajima-san continued, voice cracking, "It's just wack, you know? Because you think Mom and Daddy are waiting for you when you get out, and it turns out they were murdered so some crazy cult could control the TV channels, and you ew-blay your last bit of money on some dumb fortune telling, but hey, no worry, you get everything from them, right? You're set for life! It's, like, so wack…so, you know, no point thinking about it."

Empathy flooded Chiaki as she listened. Maybe that's why she came to the Future Foundation…because she had nowhere else to go. "I think you should think about it, Nakajima-san. I mean, does bottling up your grief make you feel better?"

"…Not really," Nakajima-san admitted in a low voice.

Another thought struck Chiaki. "Do Hagakure-kun and his mother know?"

"Yeah. That idiot wanted a reward for helping me, so he was one of the first to try and find my dad." She scoffed, a bit of old fire returning. "He's so lame, he never considered my parents might be dead… I'm sure the only reason he's letting me stay now is because he's hoping I'll be grateful enough to pay him myself."

"Really? You don't think it might just be because he considers you a friend?"

"Yeah, right. Not after—" Nakajima-san broke off, looking away guiltily. Chiaki weighed whether to press her or not, and decided against it. At this point, she knew that pushing Nakajima-san would backfire.

"…How about an assignment, Nakajima-san? Before our next session, I want you to open up to Hagakure-kun, or his mom, or any friends you have, about your parents. You don't have to say everything…just share a bit of the pain you feel and see what happens." She still wasn't entirely sure what she was doing, or what Nakajima-san's grudge against the Future Foundation was…but she did have a goal now. If Nakajima-san saw that people around her cared, that would help, right?

"…I'll ink-thay about it."

This time, when the year ended, there was a celebration. She'd closed the windows to try and muffle the sound of fireworks to make things easier on Yumigami, but her poor rabbit was still shaking like a leaf. Through her curtains, there was the occasional flash of red or blue or green, exploding into existence as fireworks popped, before fading away. Chiaki hummed absently, popping mochi ice cream purchased from the street vendors into her mouth as she mashed the buttons on her controller, eyes trained on the zombies on her television screen.

The last New Year's she'd really celebrated had been with all her friends. Running from stall to stall, playing games together, watching the fireworks, it had created such a happy memory. She'd been tempted to go out there tonight and relive the experience, but it was too lonely to go by herself.

During the countdown to midnight, she paused her game, went over to her fridge, and pulled out a cupcake. Placing it on the table, she added the picture she'd taken of herself and Kamukura-kun together so many months ago. Chiaki sat and tapped her fingers against her knee, unconsciously following the movements for the Konami code as she trained her eyes on the clock.

When the clock struck midnight and the ringing of bells filled the air outside, she said to the picture, "Happy birthday, Kamukura-kun".

Then she blew out the candle on the cupcake and ate it, looking at the picture and hoping he was safe, wherever he was.

A/N: UGH Kanon why do you have to use so much slang and Pig Latin do you know how annoying it is to write

Since this is Chiaki's first case, I wanted to convey how her inexperience and, at the core, human nature, would impact it. While I do believe she'd try her best to get along with everyone and has the same kind of mellow personality as Makoto to generally succeed, I also believe she's not immune to prejudices or snap emotions, and that her overenthusiasm for certain things and social unawareness could grate on people less patient than Izuru. Not to mention, Kanon is kind of abrasive, hates Future Foundation, and is a gyaru, which I imagine Chiaki would subconsciously associate with Junko. It's a recipe for tension. Hopefully y'all found everything in-character.

You've also probably noticed I've been gradually introducing some OCs, first in the background and now in some scenes. They aren't going to take over the story, but I wanted the seventh division to feel like it has more people than just Chiaki and Miaya, so I hope y'all don't mind.