A/N: From this point onward, depression, self-harm and other sensitive issues might be shown, portrayed or discussed in this chapter and others to come. Reader discretion is advised for those who are sensitive to such matters.

CHAPTER FORTY – YOU HAVE ME (NatSuke)

The enthusiasm among the student body regarding the approach of the school's cultural festival was temporarily stalled by the announcement that everyone's exam papers would be returned today. Adding to the tension was the fact that each class would receive its batch of returned papers at random periods throughout the day. Most students began to voice their worries about what grades they might have gotten, while some imagined with a bit more optimism that they had done relatively well.

For the most part, Daisuke did not feel too troubled by it all. After spending some time with Kenta, Naoki and Akihiro at Big Tom's, a hangout which Kenta had planned out of the blue, he felt substantially better. For one thing, he had done the unthinkable and shared some of his worries with his closest friends. The issue with his father's sudden visit had been rather easy to share, given that Naoki and Kenta knew about it all and Akihiro understood it easily enough, but Natsuki's troubles had been more difficult to share. In the end, however, he felt relieved that he had done so, and thus he began facing the oncoming days with less worry compared to before.

Of course, Daisuke had not yet told Natsuki that he had confided the sensitive details of her domestic issues at home with his friends. Knowing Natsuki, she would surely react with a lot of verbal vitriol reminiscent of how she had acted the first time he met her. On top of that, she would obviously be hurt, both at the thought that other people knew of her home situation now and at the idea of being helped. Daisuke knew that it could not be helped in the end; as much as he wanted to respect Natsuki's wishes, he felt that he could do a lot more to help her if his best buddies were by his side knowing what was happening, and in a scenario as serious as domestic abuse going down, he and Natsuki needed all the help they can get. Perhaps once she finds out—and Daisuke was certain that Natsuki would find out one way or another—he can get her to understand why he shared the information regarding what was happening to her at home. For now, he simply had to make sure that she was doing fine, that she was eating well and having fun with their manga-reading at lunchtime.

The moment of truth for 3-D came right after lunchtime as the class representative arrived fresh from the faculty room to inform the class that their test papers were now at hand. The volume of the tension rose considerably as the folders containing the papers were distributed to their respective owners. Daisuke and Natsuki stood up together to claim their folders, eyeing each other with a bit of apprehension, speaking no words. Once they had received their folders, they quickly made their way back to their seats and opened them, resigning themselves to whatever they would be seeing.

As he looked over his returned test papers one by one, however, Daisuke began feeling more relieved and satisfied with each paper he perused. They did not bear the best marks in the class, that much was true, but he did not expect to obtain B's for nearly every test and even score a couple of A's for History and Moral Studies. With the stress that he had been experiencing before the exams, he had expected to get by with a few C's and some D's. Everywhere else, his classmates were comparing scores on their test papers as well, with some shouting as they realized that they had won or lost the bets they had struck with their friends. Daisuke felt even better when he saw that he had come out of the exams in the best shape among his friends. It was a good way to start the morning and cap off the first batch of exams that they had for the academic year.

He turned towards Natsuki, whose reactions were hidden beneath her face mask as she looked over her own returned test papers. "How did yours go?" he asked her.

Natsuki shot him a look. "Well, they're . . . um . . ."

Daisuke leaned forward, pointedly avoiding gazing at her test papers without permission. "What is it?"

"I . . . did okay, I guess," said Natsuki, sighing. She held out the papers towards him and looked away. Daisuke received them with a bit of worry for her, wondering if she had done more poorly than she liked to admit. To his surprise, however, he flipped through the papers and saw that she had more A's than he did.

"This isn't just okay, Natsuki," he said. "You did really well!"

"I know, I know," Natsuki hissed, snatching the papers from him. "I was just bummed out a little because . . . well, I could've done better, you know? I could've gotten all A's."

"Ah, that's alright! You did real swell, okay?"

"Are you sure?" asked Natsuki, looking sulky as she glared at him.

Daisuke smiled, placing a hand on her arm. Natsuki twitched a little from the gesture, but she didn't shy away from it. "Natsuki, I know that it's totally a 'you' thing to strive for the best every single time, but don't feel too bad about what you managed to get, alright? You did more than okay—even better than some of us, that's for sure! I'm sure that you gave your best, and that's what's important."

Natsuki sighed irritably, her ears turning red. "Yeah, yeah, I got that. You don't have to say all that mushy sentimental stuff every time I act like this."

"I'm sorry for that," said Daisuke, laughing. "I just don't want you feeling too down, okay?"

"Yeah, I get it," Natsuki mumbled. "Thanks. . ."

Daisuke gave her arm a gentle squeeze before letting go. "So, now that we can stop worrying about our grades for the exam, we can all start focusing more properly on the festival!" he said with enthusiasm. "What do you have in mind?"

"I'm not going," Natsuki stated flatly.

Expecting such an answer from her beforehand, Daisuke took it in stride. "Why not?"

"I don't have a lot to do during festivals," replied Natsuki. "It's either I bring some of my manga to read somewhere secluded at school, or I do it at home. That's why I've been choosing to stay at home during school festivals all throughout high school."

"Wait, really? But there are always a lot of things to be had and done at the cultural festival! I mean, a lot of our classmates are gonna be putting a lot of effort into this, like they always do. It's always a sight to see what they manage to come up with, right?"

"I know, but since I won't be doing that much, I don't see any point in me dropping by. Besides, it's not like I can enjoy the festival by freeloading off of everyone's efforts."

"Hey, that's alright! I mean, a few of our schoolmates can't contribute much, but that doesn't mean they're banned from joining and enjoying."

Natsuki glared at him. "Why are you suddenly so insistent on making me come along?"

"Well, as soon as you said that you've never gone to any of the previous school festivals before, I made up my mind to try and convince you to come to this one," said Daisuke. "Come on, Natsuki. I just want you to have some fun and enjoy yourself. I know we could always just find a way to go out and have some fun in another way, but the festival's a different experience."

"But what exactly am I going to do?" Natsuki hissed. "It's not like I'm participating in the events or managing any booths. At least you have something to do, drawing banners for the booths."

"Wait, you knew about that?"

"I overheard a few of our classmates talking about it. Anyway, you have more reason to be at the festival than me."

"Hmm . . . what if we found something for you to do for the festival?"

Natsuki raised her eyebrows. "What?"

"Well, don't you want to help plan one of the events?" asked Daisuke. "Or maybe you can open a booth with a few of our friends."

At that moment, an idea popped up in his head. "Wait, I know! What if you baked some cup—?"

Before he could finish his words, however, pain shot up his arm as Natsuki punched him.

"Ow! What was that for?" he cried out, trying not to raise his voice and draw their classmates' attention towards them. Luckily, everyone else was still busy comparing grades around them.

"You mention 'baking' and 'cupcakes' again with other people around and I'll knock your block off," Natsuki muttered in a vehement whisper.

"Oh, right. Sorry about that," said Daisuke apologetically. He lowered his voice and continued, "But still, it's a good idea, right? I mean, your cupcakes are always delicious, and they'll sell good at a booth. I'm sure that everyone will love them!"

"No, I'm not going to bake for the festival again!" Natsuki hissed back.

Daisuke paused. "Wait, 'again?' You mean you've actually done that before?" he asked, surprised.

Natsuki's eyes widened as she realized what words she had just uttered, and her ears turned red again. "N-Never mind what I said!" she sputtered.

Not wanting to wear down Natsuki's patience any further by asking about what she said, Daisuke sighed. "Alright, let's leave it at that. I just thought that you might want to give it another shot this year. At least you'll be having fun, right? And besides, I wanna help you with this."

Natsuki looked at him sullenly. "What do you mean?"

"Well, it'd be a good addition to the booths that the class will be making," replied Daisuke. "If you want, I can push for some of our other classmates to consider doing it."

"How about the ingredients, then? Baking for a whole lot of visitors won't be cheap."

"Maybe we can all chip in some money for that, like those who are gonna be buying stuff for decorations and props." Daisuke grinned. "Does this mean you're considering doing it? I mean, you're asking about it and all."

"I didn't say anything yet!" Natsuki retorted.

At that moment, the bell rang for their next class, cutting their debate short. Everyone began to settle down and wait for their next professor, the volume of their discussions gradually subsiding. Daisuke glanced at Natsuki once again as the two of them stowed away their test papers, imagining that there might be actually a chance for her to consider baking for the school festival. It wasn't arguably the best of ideas, but he had become rather invested in it to the point where he felt that he had to convince Natsuki to give it a try. After all, it seemed better than simply forcing her to come along or to let her stay at home with her terrible father around while everyone else was having fun.

When lunchtime came, Natsuki made it a point to focus more on eating and reading manga with him afterwards. Daisuke sensed that she was making a conscious effort to avoid talking about the festival and the possibility of opening a cupcake booth for the class. In secret, he had asked a few of his classmates about the idea, making it seem like he was the one who would be doing the baking so as not to put too much unwanted attention on Natsuki. So far, the ones that he had talked to all voiced some form of approval to the idea, stating that a cupcake booth would be a welcome addition since the class did not have a solid food booth idea ready just yet.

"I can't believe that you'll be capping off Parfait Girls soon," said Natsuki as the two of them read one of the series' later books together in their usual spot on the open field. "You should be proud, because you've really come a long way from being a simple reader who only reads shoujo for the girls and those scenes," she added flippantly.

"Hey, that's low, alright?" said Daisuke. "You keep saying that but you know that I'm learning quite a lot from what I've been reading so far!"

"Oh, really? Then give me an example of what you learned."

"Well, for one thing, I'm learning stuff about pastries, desserts and baking. Who knows? Maybe it won't take long before I try baking, and maybe in no time at all I can bake for the festival."

Natsuki shot him a look. "You're really adamant about me baking for that stupid festival, huh?"

"Of course!" said Daisuke with a laugh. "But if you don't want to, then I guess I can just research on my own and see how it's done."

Natsuki scoffed. "Now that sounds like a laugh."

Daisuke shrugged. "It's just a thought. If you don't want to bake because you don't want people knowing about your baking skills, then I'll just try doing it myself. You can just give me some advice on how to do it. And don't worry, I won't be telling anyone that you're helping me."

"Wait, seriously?" Natsuki sat up straighter. "You're gonna get on with it even if I'm not the one doing the baking?"

"Like I said, it's a thought. I may not be as good of a baker as you are, but I picked up a thing or two from Mom and Parfait Girls on how to work properly in the kitchen. I'm sure that I won't be burning down any houses or poisoning any people with my handiwork," he said, laughing.

Natsuki looked at him, her pink eyes looking dead serious. "You're bluffing. You're just saying all this to convince me to bake in the end."

Daisuke paused for a moment. "I want to say 'no,' but for the sake of not getting my arm socked again for lying, I'm just gonna say 'yes.'"

"I knew it!" Natsuki screeched, snapping shut the Parfait Girls book between them.

"Ah, ah, ah! No punching, please!" Daisuke said quickly, holding his hands up.

"For the last time, I don't want to open a cupcake booth, okay?!" Natsuki hissed.

"Can you at least tell me why?" asked Daisuke, his hands still acting as a temporary shield in case Natsuki let a fist fly. "I mean, do you think that you're not gonna do as well as you'd like to if you ever give it a try?"

"U-Um . . . well, y-yes. But that's not the only reason, okay?!" said Natsuki defensively. "I don't w-want anyone making fun of me and my baking. I don't want to waste a lot of time and effort and ingredients just to have someone say that my cupcakes weren't that good, or that I was too sloppy with the icing, or—"

"Is that what happened last time?" Daisuke interrupted. "You know, when you . . . baked for a previous festival and all . . ."

Natsuki fell silent for a moment. Her irritation seemed to dissipate as she pondered on the question. "W-Well, no, not really. . ." she finally muttered in reply.

"Then what did the people say when they tasted them?" he asked her as he lowered his hands.

Natsuki let out a resigned sigh. "I didn't hear them actually say it because I didn't bother hanging around for the festival then, but our class adviser at the time, she told me that . . . t-that everyone loved them."

Daisuke smiled. "See? They loved them! And I'm sure that if you did that for this year's festival, they're gonna love them all over again!"

"How can you be so sure?" asked Natsuki with a sullen tone. "What if I screw up this year, right? I don't want to mess up something like that!"

"Exactly," said Daisuke. "If I know you, Natsuki, I know that you don't like screwing up when you're doing something that you're really dedicated to, and that's why you rarely get something wrong when it comes to these kinds of things. I'm sure that if you ever consider baking for the festival, you're gonna give it your two-hundred percent in terms of commitment and effort, and if you do that, there's no way you can mess up. I know this because I've seen you work like this with school stuff, so it must be the same for your passions like baking, right?"

Natsuki said nothing for a while. She tore her gaze away from Daisuke, evidently doing some thinking as she mulled over his words. Feeling that he had said what he could to try and convince her, Daisuke waited patiently for her reply.

"I'm gonna think about it. . ." Natsuki finally replied. "Don't get your hopes up, okay? I'm still not sure."

For Daisuke, it was good enough. "That's okay. And hey, I was serious about trying to bake, alright? If you need any help, you can count on me."

Natsuki shook her head with a sigh. "We'll see about that."

Walking home later that day, Natsuki mulled over her thoughts in silence. A very small part of her was still irritated at Daisuke's efforts to help lighten her mood or find ways to do so, but she could not stay angry at him. It wasn't as if Daisuke accidentally discovered that she was capable of baking since she willingly made the choice to give him a batch of cupcakes as a gift, and obviously he always meant well when it came to dealing with her. That was one of the reasons why she couldn't bring herself to say no outright to his idea. On the other hand, she also felt as if she could actually pull off what she did before and bake for this year's festival, and that was what made her weigh the thought further. However, as she had told Daisuke earlier, nothing was final yet. Natsuki wondered how long it would take for her to reach an impartial decision. If she said yes, Daisuke would possibly go all-out to help her with the expenses and the extra manpower she would need to bake, which was a plus since she knew that she could never have that much money and time to pull this off. If she said no, then at least she would be able to carry on like nothing ever happened, albeit at the cost of letting Daisuke down. It sounded so simple in her head, but somehow Natsuki couldn't bring herself to look Daisuke in the face if she disappointed him on this.

When she reached her house, Natsuki decided to give everything more contemplation later to avoid stressing herself out. As soon as she opened the door and stepped inside, however, her pensive mood was temporarily stalled by the smell of cigarette smoke and the sound of a woman's laughter inside the house. Startled, Natsuki walked towards the living room and took a peek.

It was a usual sight for her: empty beer cans on the floor, an ashtray laden with crushed cigarette butts on the nearby coffee table, and some empty bags of chips with their erstwhile contents peppering some parts of the carpet. Her father was sitting on the couch, facing the television as he drank deeply from another can of beer. The only difference in this daily scenario was the voluptuous black-haired woman in skimpy clothing who was sitting on her father's lap, taking a long drag from a cigarette and exhaling the smoke up towards the ceiling.

Natsuki inhaled sharply. This was not the first time that she had witnessed her father bring home such women, but it was always a bad sight to see. Sometimes, he would come home with a woman in tow even while she was around, their laughter and ribald chatting ringing in Natsuki's ears long after she had gone up to the comfort of her bedroom. Natsuki knew what the women's purposes were, and the sight of them in the house brought in thoughts of her mother and how she would feel if she saw what was happening.

Lost in her own thoughts, she snapped back to attention when she heard the woman in the living room speak. "Looks like we've got a visitor."

Natsuki almost felt her legs give way as she looked up to see the woman looking directly at her and her father turning around with a grunt. "Oh, you're here. Good," he muttered; his words were already slurred from the onset of alcohol. "There's some money on the kitchen table. Go out and order us some takeout."

"You didn't tell me your kid would be home this early," the woman told him, flicking his shoulder playfully. "I told you we should've just gone to our usual place."

"Hey, I said it'll be fine, alright?" Natsuki's father said, swatting away the woman's hand. Again, he turned towards Natsuki. "You. Takeout. Now," he grunted.

Natsuki didn't move or speak. Fear welled up inside her and told her to just follow her father's orders without much fuss or trouble, but a small part of her also felt a ripple of anger at what her father was doing once again. She had no doubt that he was spending most of the money that her Aunt Shoko had just given them, money that should go into buying what they actually needed. This was always the same scenario that she had been facing for years now, and for a long time, Natsuki always felt that she could never have a say in how things went.

Until now, that is. She had seen how hard her Aunt Shoko and her Uncle Ryota worked in order to make sure that she and her father would never starve or run out of money to take care of things, and it was infuriating to see that instead of making the most out of this blessing, her father was just indulging his vices over and over.

Her hesitation earned her a shout from her father. "Hey! Are you deaf or something?! I told you to go!" he roared drunkenly. Still sitting on his lap, the woman looked at them almost lazily.

Natsuki balled her hands into fists, pushing down the fear that she was feeling. She looked up and stared forward.

"N-No."

It was one of the few bold steps that Natsuki had ever taken. For the next few moments, the only sounds that could be heard were the noises coming from the television. Meanwhile, her father stared back at her, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

"What was that?" he muttered.

Natsuki wanted to shrink backwards, but to her slight amazement she found herself standing ground. She sensed what was coming, and maybe she knew that it would come regardless of what she tried to say or do now that she had just given her father a flat-out refusal.

"I said n-no, Dad," she went on quietly. For a moment, she imagined when she had stopped calling her father "Papa" like she used to do when she was younger; of course, her mother was still alive then, and the world was a happier place.

"You're gonna b-be using the money that Aunt Shoko gave us, right? That's what you always do. You s-spend it on what you want instead of buying what w-we need. And then when the money runs out, y-you start complaining."

Her father stared back at her like a bomb just waiting to go off. The woman sitting on his lap, on the other hand, did not even bat an eye; Natsuki wondered for a moment if she was used to drama unfolding before her like this. Either way, what was happening right now was obviously not her concern, and Natsuki didn't see why she should receive any help from her if things went south. She knew that she would just be a silent observer to what could happen, just like the walls of their house had been for the past few years.

"What did you just say, you little piece of shit?" her father muttered. "Did you just try to lecture me?"

Natsuki swallowed, her fear now fighting back against her determination to keep going. "You go out there and do what I'm telling you to do, alright?!" her father kept going. "If you backtalk me again, I swear I will beat your damn head off!"

"Hey, hey, there's no need for that, alright?" the woman crooned as she placed a hand on his chest. "If you want to, sweetie, I can just go out and buy our food for us, and your little girl can go on upstairs to her room without a lot of fuss, how about that?"

Natsuki felt some gratitude towards the woman for at least attempting to defuse the situation, though she also bristled when she heard the words "little girl." Not knowing what else to do or say at the moment, she merely kept standing her ground, unable to tear her gaze away from her father.

"You know what? Yeah, you go ahead and do that," her father grunted after a short instance of silence. He gave her a shove. "Go on! What're you waiting for?! Get on with it, woman!"

Seemingly eager for this excuse to step outside for a moment, the woman gave her father a quick peck on the cheek, got up from the sofa and sauntered over to the kitchen to get the money for the takeout. The silence that stretched in the meantime was so incredibly tense that Natsuki could feel it weighing down upon her almost physically. On the other hand, her father kept staring daggers into her as he waited for his female companion to leave the house. Natsuki knew that to retreat up to her room would be pointless now, since her father would just run after her.

When they heard the sound of the front door closing, the silence reached its fever pitch. With an irate grumble, her father stood up and walked over to her, his anger evidently rising with every step. Natsuki watched him move towards her, feeling almost nauseous as she anticipated what he would say the moment he reached her.

Instead of using words, however, her father replied with a powerful backhand to her face. Natsuki stumbled a little from the force of the blow. Her cheek burned, and her vision became slightly disoriented for a few seconds. She always forgot how strong her father could be.

"You don't talk to me like that, you little bitch!" he roared, forcing her to face him with an iron grip on her shoulder. With his free hand, he ripped the mask off of her face and threw it at her. "You hear me?! You don't mouth off like that about me in front of other people!"

Tears fell from Natsuki's eyes as her father shook her roughly with every sentence he was uttering. She avoided his gaze all the while, not wanting the pain on her body and heart to overwhelm her. For her conscious efforts in not looking at him directly, she got another slap and a push towards the living room's walls. This time, Natsuki could taste a bit of blood, and she knew that the slap had split her lip anew.

Meanwhile, her father was relentless. "You're talking to me about spending money on crap that we don't need, and yet you're stealing some for yourself so that you can buy those trashy comic books that you like so much, right? Or how about all that shit that you buy when you bake for your sissy little friends? And you have the guts to call me out for spending money on what you call useless shit?!"

"I've never stolen any money from you!" Natsuki cried back, her voice breaking as she tried not to sob out loud. "I save my allowance so that—"

Whack. This time, the blow caught her in the back of her head. Natsuki buckled as her head whipped forward, and she could not stop herself from crying out in pain. Before she even had time to regain her bearings, she felt her father's free hand grab her neck as he forced her to look at him.

"What did I just say about backtalk, you stupid piece of shit?!" he thundered; the smell of beer and cigarette smoke in his breath and the tight grip he had on her throat almost made her gag. "You do that again and I swear I'll tear your fucking head off, you hear me?! You have no fucking right to do that to me! In fact, you should be on your damn knees thanking me for still trying to raise you after all the trouble you've caused, you ungrateful bitch!"

"D-Dad, I can't b-b-breathe . . ." Natsuki gasped.

Again, her father's hand struck, and again the world spun in her eyes from the force of the blow.

"Dad, p-p-please. . . Stop it, please. . ."

Another blow. It was as if she had uttered something so horrible that merited being slapped again.

"Dad, it h-hurts. . . P-Please, no more. . ."

One more slap followed. This time, there was no pause in between as her father's grip shifted from her neck to her face, and he squeezed her cheeks and chin painfully. "If it wasn't for you and your pathetic little wants, your mother would still be alive!" her father spat. "You hear me?! Your mother would still be fucking alive, and I won't have to deal with your bullshit all alone!"

At the mention of her mother, Natsuki gave up speaking and tried to squirm free from his grip, but another backhand stopped that easily enough. She whimpered from the pain as her father kept holding her upright by the face. She could feel her back pressed against the cold, hard wall behind her, and she wanted nothing more than to fall through it and disappear forever. Somehow, she knew that she should be regretting ever opening her mouth earlier, but such was the price that a person had to pay for standing up to someone. More curses and rants followed from her father, but she was now too lost in her own grief and pain to listen to or feel any more of them. Only the occasional blows that punctuated her father's tirades still startled her more than anything; it was hard to tell from the numbness whether each successive blow was more painful than the last. It did not matter whether it was another slap or backhand or a shove that made her hit her head at the wall she was backed against; Natsuki had no choice but to stand there and take it all as she sobbed and whimpered. She prayed for a moment that someone would hear the commotion and come to her rescue, but when have her prayers ever been answered? With each blow that struck her, the truth was slowly hammered once again into her head: that though her father did survive, both of her parents died in that car accident long ago.

When her father finally released his vise-like grip on her face and stalked back to the sofa in a huff, Natsuki did not know anymore how much time had passed, whether it had been mere minutes or an hour or an eternity. All she could feel now was the pain, the burning sensation on her face fighting the coldness of the tears on her cheeks drying in the air. Her vision swam in a haze brought about by the hurt and the disorientation she had received from the blows. As she moved her lips, she felt the coppery taste of blood on her tongue.

Vaguely, she heard her father bellow one more time for her to get up to her room. Natsuki obliged, though she no longer knew if she was doing so willfully or if it was merely her body going into survival mode and directing her as far away from danger as possible. She picked up her fallen face mask but made no move to put it back on, instead choosing to let her face stand out for now. As best as she could, she stumbled up the stairs, holding on tightly to the railing for support lest she fall. Each step made it feel like weights were strapped onto her weakened body. As the seconds passed, her face began to throb more. Natsuki sucked the pain up with a silent hiss, swallowing blood as she willed herself to make those final steps and get inside her bedroom. As soon as she got inside, she collapsed onto her mattress, grabbed the nearest pillow within reach and buried her face into it, letting the dam break as she let out her sobs without restraint.

It was her hunger that stirred her from her grief about an hour later. Her room was bathed with darkness, telling her that evening had set in for a long while now. Still wearing her school uniform, Natsuki had not bothered to get up and change, not while she was crying her heart out. The pain on her face had been reduced to a numbness that stung every time she opened her mouth or touched her cheeks. Gingerly, Natsuki stood up and turned on the lights in her room, recoiling from the brightness that pierced through her sight. She ambled towards the small mirror that hung near her desk, took a deep breath and looked into it.

Her face, after almost healing completely over the week, was now back at square one. There were reddish marks on both of her cheeks that she was certain would darken and turn into bruises within the span of a day. The cut on her lip had dried a little over the past hour, though its presence would mean that she would be unable to eat or drink for a week without the wound hurting. The worst part of it all was the makings of a bruise next to her right eye, where some of her father's blows had landed. The other injuries can be covered up easily enough with the continued use of her face mask, but this one would still be visible enough for people to notice.

A vibration in her skirt's pocket startled her momentarily. She reached in and pulled out her cellphone to see four text messages and six missed calls from Daisuke, all from different intervals over the past hour. Natsuki went over the texts one by one and saw how Daisuke had started off with a message of enthusiasm that gradually turned into concern and then worry.

"hey, JGH from the night market, had 2 help my sis buy some stuff! anyway she asked me if i wanted anything, had her buy u some of that pocky that u rly like. i'll give it 2 u 2morow, ok? :)"

"yo! i know u might be bc and all, just hit me up when ur all clear, ok? take care over there! :D"

"natsuki? are u there?"

"natsuki, are u ok over there? pls get back to me ASAP if u can. i'm just rly worried about u rn, i hope ur ok, and i hope u've eaten dinner already"

Going over each message, Natsuki felt tears well in her eyes once again. Why, Daisuke Matsuda? Why are you always like this? Her heart both swelled with pride and broke a little from sadness as she knew that Daisuke was looking out for her like he always did. At a time like this, after what had just transpired with her father, it was what she sorely needed, even if she didn't want to admit it outright to him or anyone else.

Instead of replying with a simple text, Natsuki decided to call him back. Daisuke answered her call on the second ring; Natsuki immediately knew that he had been watching his phone and waiting for her reply. His voice sounded incredibly worried as he spoke.

"Natsuki! A-Are you okay? You weren't replying at all, and I just thought that—"

His words suddenly trailed off, and Natsuki knew that he was hearing her cry silently on her end. "Daisuke. . ." she whispered. "D-Daisuke. . ."

"Natsuki, what's wrong?" Daisuke asked silently. "What happened?"

Natsuki let out a stifled sob, not knowing how to explain what her father had done again. She did not need to; she knew that Daisuke could piece together on his own simply by listening to her.

She heard Daisuke sigh on the other end. "Natsuki . . . did he . . . h-hurt you again?"

Breathing raggedly, Natsuki composed herself just enough to reply, "Y-Yes."

Silence momentarily fell between them, during which she could only cry silently. She could vaguely hear some noises on Daisuke's end; she imagined him pacing restlessly as he dwelt on what she said and listened to her crying. When he finally spoke again, his voice sounded strained.

"That b-bastard . . . hurt you . . . again. . ."

"D-Don't worry, I'll be f-fine," Natsuki quickly added, even though her crying made the words seem ineffectual. "It was m-mostly my fault anyway, I said stuff when I should've b-been keeping my stupid mouth shut. . ."

"No, Natsuki," said Daisuke in a grim tone. "No matter what you might have said, he doesn't d-deserve to hurt you like this. In fact, that bastard's lucky that I don't know w-where you two live, because otherwise—"

"No!" Natsuki cried out, feeling the hatred in his voice and being reminded of her father. "I'll b-be fine, okay?! I don't want you to do something like t-that! Just . . . p-please, just be with me, like this. Just keep t-talking to me like this and I'll . . . I'll b-be alright. . ."

"But Natsuki—"

"No buts! I mean that, Daisuke!" Natsuki bit back another sob as she struggled to keep talking. "The things that y-you're doing, when you're keeping me company and asking me about how I'm d-doing and all, it's giving me the s-strength I need to keep going through c-crappy times like this! J-Just keep doing that for me, okay? You don't have to do anything reckless or stupid. I . . . I don't w-want you to get hurt."

At this, she sank down to her knees on the floor, her emotions getting the better of her as she kept crying. It was as if her fear and despondence from what happened earlier triggered unwanted thoughts in her head, thoughts about Daisuke abandoning her when she needed him most, thoughts about being left to struggle on her own because she drove him away or let something bad happen to him. On a normal day, she would have resented baring her fears like this, seeing it as a sign of weakness, but circumstances could not have been more different than they were today.

"Just b-be there for me, okay? D-Don't leave me, Daisuke," she sobbed on her cellphone. "Just don't leave me, please . . . I've lost my parents already. . . I don't want t-to lose anyone else, e-especially you. . ."

For a long while, Natsuki simply kept crying and mumbling these words, expecting Daisuke to just hang up and leave her to her own devices. Mercifully, he did no such thing. When he spoke again, his voice trembled as if he was crying as well, and yet the words he uttered were all that Natsuki needed right now.

"You have me, Natsuki. I'll always be right here. You're not alone. You have me."