Sunday, May 23rd

"So!" Ryuji slapped his hands together, "What the hell are we gonna do now?"

Morgana groaned as he took another loss against Ryuji in DSBZ, slouching back against the cushion. It had been like this for hours, and he was getting exhausted.

It only made sense considering it was four in the morning.

Akira, who was sitting upside down in the comforter, stared aimlessly at the floor while all the blood in his body pooled at the nip of his skull.

Ryuji was the only one who had any semblance of energy left, "C'mon guys, there's no way

you're all exhausted that quick?"

Akira weakly dropped a hand (technically he raised it if he was standing upright), "Ryuji…we walked around Shujin all day…walked around the mall all day, walked to Madarame's shack, and then walked back to the train station…walked to my apartment, walked to Shibuya where I punched a drunken bastard," Akira waved his bruised knuckles around, "And then we walked back home…how the fuckdo you have any energy man?"

Ryuji paused, "Y'know that is a very good question."

Akira stared up at him, "Yeah, I know for a fact you probably take percs man."

"The hell is a perc?"

Akira snorted, "Never change Ryuji, never change."

Before the two could indulge in their usual comedic banter, Mona's snores filled the living room.

It seemed the first member of the trio had finally bowed out.

"I'm surprised Mona even stayed up for this long…he usually isn't a night owl."

Ryuji stroked his fake imaginary beard and aged his voice, something that disgustingly reminded Akira of Ryudalf, "It seems the boy has much to learn in order to properly use his CPNB power…wouldn't you agree, sir FKSO?"

Maybe it was the power of the FKSO creeping into Akira, or his mentally and physically exhausted mind, but he pretended to stroke a beard as well, "Ah, why yes, Secretary of Cream, I do agree that the Secretary of Squirt does lack the…gall we possess. However, I do believe he will manifest more and more of it as we embark on more adventures with members of the female persuasion. Do you agree?"

"Ah yes, your wise words will never fail sir FKSO…perhaps this Yoshizawa woman will help him as much as possible. But alas that brings me to a much more pressin' question…when will you get some bitches, sir FKSO?"

Akira dropped the act instantly, "Oh go eat a dick man."

"Why are you as a man telling another man to go eat a–"

"This is exactly why I've beaten the shit out of you so much in DSBZ."

"First off, you don't beat the shit out of me. It's even."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yes, yes I am. Which is why we…should play another game. What was that new one you bought?"

Akira flipped himself right-side-up, and went to the intact bag from earlier that was still on the counter, "You talking about Ancient Halo?" Ryuji nodded, "Dude, are you sure you wanna play this?"

Ryuji shrugged, "Yeah, why not? There's no way the game is that hard."

"Have…have you ever played any of the Essenceborne games before…?"

"Nope. All I'm sayin' is, no game has ever bested Ryuji Sakamoto. Ima beat the shit outta this game! Put the shit on man!"

Akira looked at him skeptically, but shrugged, "Your funeral." He walked over to his PS5 and slid the disk in, waiting for the installation to finish. He was aimlessly staring at the TV as Ryuji shot him a look.

"You're doin' it again."

His words stirred him from his introspection, "Doing what?"

"That starin' shit that you do. Y'know, when you're deep in thought? Blamin' yourself for somethin' or worryin' way too much about some shit. Yeah, it 'effin stinks that we didn't get that bastard who said somethin' about Madarame, but c'mon man relax." Ryuji went to the refrigerator and grabbed a water, "It's already been a stressful enough day."

Akira's face scrunched up once he realized what his words implied, "So..instead of me stressing over this…you want me to stress while we both play Ancient Halo?"

Ryuji mimicked a buzzer, making Mona flinch in his sleep, "Wrong! You're gonna be relaxin' while I make this game my bitch!"

Akira's face flattened, "I bet 1300 yen that you're going to die to the first boss."

"Bring me my money, Frizzy-chan 'cuz Ima–"

Ryuji didn't even get a single hit on the first boss, which was this weird fused mass of bodies that had various unnaturally thin and elongated arms.

Once dying, he eyed Akira hesitantly as a cutscene appeared, showing his character washing up on the shore and getting thrown into another place. While this was happening, Ryuji's grin appeared once again, "See, that was meant to happen!"

He sighed, "Fine, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt." Glancing at the screen one more time, Akira got an entire look at Ryuji's…intriguing character.

The body was buff, something akin to an 80s bodybuilder suped up on steroids and adrenaline. The head was unnaturally smaller than the body, almost comedically small. Its face was contorted, his jaw stretched to its fullest as the forehead was flattened. It had a sickly purple hue to its skin, contrasting powerfully against the burning red set of hair adorned on its scalp. Its eyes were squished as closely as possible to each other, one pupil branded with a radiating almost greenish color while another wielded a searing orange.

The name?

"THee Infallible Critical Cream Coagulation."

Also known as THICCC.

Akira might've had something to do with that name, but he had no creative control over the monstrosity Ryuji created.

For the most part.

During the next hour of their play session, Ryuji trekked around the massive open world, not really having much of an idea of where to go. He was just plotting random waypoints down and following them, mainly sticking to advancing on the northwest of the map.

"You think I can explore those little glowin' massive trees in the back?"

"Uh…I mean, why not? I'd wanna think this is like Breath of the Natural, so…you see it? You can probably go to it and get fucked over."

Still…I'm kinda surprised he's kinda doing well so far.

I don't even remember doing this good when I played Ichorborne…

Eventually, after a couple of minutes, Ryuji entered a hallway, soon coming face to face with a misty gold barrier.

"The 'eff is this?" Ryuji looked to his left, seeing Akira snicker at his side. His face was contorted with a sickeningly cheeky grin, "Aki?"

A toothy smile formed as he took on a grandiose voice, "Welcome, my friend, to the Shadowrealm. We give bandaids for the anal buttfucking you endure on your way here."

"Wha–"

"Just go through the barrier. Have fun."

Albeit reluctantly, Ryuji pushed on, his disgusting amalgamation of a character slipping through the barrier to be greeted with a cutscene in front of a castle. The cutscene involved a towering figure, at least 7'11, hunched over a corpse. His back was turned to the camera, although that didn't last for long as he pivoted, revealing his face, only for Ryuji and Akira to feel disgusted.

"Ew...it's like he has ultra…what's that shit called? Mono?"
Akira's knowledge, for once, failed him, "The fuck is mono? A pokemon?"

Somehow, Morgana woke up and waved a hand as he slurred his words, "It…it's known as the kissing disease…gives you rashes or whatever…isn't pleasant…" He comfortably released his consciousness back into the grasp of sleep, confusing his brother and gaining a semblance of respect from Ryuji.

"I…I should probably ask how he knows what that is…"

Ryuji titled his head, focusing his attention only on Akira, "Has…has Mona ever had his first kiss–OH WHAT THE FUCK!" Before Ryuji could react, the boss dashed towards him, swinging his massive staff toward THICCC, the impact sending him to the floor before he used the momentum from the dash to jump in the air. He lingered in the air for a moment, a hope to Ryuji, thinking he had enough time to make THICCC recover and dodge, but the boss came crashing down, swinging his staff once more and sending THICCC flying into the murky and cloudy depths that laid beneath the castle.

As the words YOU DIED seared themselves into Ryuji's retinas with a disgustingly unpleasant bitterness in his mouth, the words of the boss–also known as Marge The Razed Omen–boomed through the TV speakers, "Put these foolish ambitions to rest."

That set Ryuji off.

"MY AMBITIONS ARE FOOLISH?! THE HELL?! THIS IS SOME BULLSHIT HOW CAN HE MOVE SO FAST IN THIS SLOW GAME?!" He jabbed his eyes at Akira, whose hand was outstretched as he waited for his yen. Ruffling through his pockets, Ryuji slammed it into Akira's hand, "Dude, this is bullshit!"

A shit-eating grin formed on his face, "You thought I was joking, huh? You just gotta get good, Secretary of Cream."

"Eat a dick man!"

"Pause. I promise you, he probably isn't that bad man."

"Probably?" Ryuji handed him the controller, "Here then, Mr. Essenceborne Vet. Beat his ass."

"Woah, woah, I haven't played an Essenceborne game since Sekiro back in '19 man…"

"So? What are you?! A pussy?!"

That, as expected, set Akira off. He snatched the controller from Ryuji, "Ima beat your fucking ass after this dude."

"Focus on Marge first."

THICCC narrowly missed a slash from Marge, causing Akira to thank whatever God was up in the sky for the invincibility frame. The grotesque monstrosity of Akira and Ryuji's design retaliate with a leaping heavy slash from his katana, something that the two easily agreed on as the perfect weapon during the creation session. A heafty chunk of health was depleted, and Akira had about a third of his bar eliminated.

It was slow work, but it was progress nevertheless.

"Dude! Dude! Look, he's gonna do the swipe! The swipe!"

"No! He's gonna do something else, shit is never–"

"Look at the start-up, jackass! Look!"

Marge did a swipe, much to Akira's dismay, as THICCC barely dodged out of the way.

If there was one saving grace that still lingered in Akira's system after his prolonged drought from Essenseborne games, it was his heightened reaction time.

But again, that was all.

Unknown to either of the young men, Marge summoned daggers and slung them both at THICCC. Akira tried to dodge just to save THICCC's pathetic minute existence, but the first connected, sapping his already small health bar.

"Ah! Fuck! Akira dodge! He's got fuckin' daggers man! LITTLE PISS-COLOREDDAGGERS!"

For all of Akira's experiences, his trials and tribulations, his struggles against authority and doing the right thing, this was the one time his mind went completely blank, "Nah! There's no way this little shit is gonna do it again!" Honestly, Akira was scared shitless of the possibility as his mind ran rampant with anticipation. THICCC didn't deserve this, but Marge didn't give a shit as he threw another dagger, piercing the gross purple covering known as THICCC's skin. Akira's thumb went into overdrive, causing him to spam the dodge button, eventually sending him to his doom as he fell over the edge.

Once again, YOU DIED seared itself into both of the boys. "Put these foolish ambitions to rest."

Silence took a grasp of the room as they suffocated themselves in it.

A renewed sense of vigor took a hold of Ryuji–as expected–and he stared at his best friend with a vengeance, "Gimme the damn controller man. We're pissing on this musty bastard instead."

"Put these foolish ambitions to rest."

Another death, another YOU DIED filled the screen. Nothing but despair filled the duo while Morgana enjoyed the silky embrace of slumber. They traded controllers once again while Ryuji spat out some more words of encouragement. It didn't matter how long it would take, they were going to piss on him.

It had been an hour.

Akira, despite the intense probability of his sleep deprivation overtaking his visual and auditory functions and…probably his already tanking mental health as well, swore he saw the sun attempting to snake through the clouds to touch the horizon. That was the sign…he and Ryuji both knew…they felt it deep within their bodies, the burning in their eyes, the heaviness that suddenly glued itself to every limb that attached itself to their bodies. Every atom of their body was screaming, crying, and begging for a release from the infinite and, most importantly, voluntary torture their owners were forcing them to endure.

Neither of them gave a shit. If it was a class, they would pass with flying colors–a first for Ryuji. Though he would say with a flying 'eff preferably.

This time Akira had the controller and, despite all the bullshit his brain was spewing at ten thousand miles per hour, he was focused. It seemed, thanks to that weird mixture of focus, he was inching closer and closer to beating The Razed Omen. He was forming some sense of familiarity with the attack patterns, something that was apparent with both of them.

THICCC sheathed his blade, waiting for the perfect moment. Within an instant, THICCC dashed in front of Marge, the katana becoming a swift and devastating arc of violence. A hearty chunk of health disappeared from the bar–a sign of victory for both boys as Marge's health bar dipped below the halfway point.

Ryuji, not giving a damn about Morgana's sleep or any of the other people in LeBlanc, leaped up in the air. If anyone was slightly paying attention, they'd assume from his reaction they actually beat Marge.

"AH! EAT THAT YOU MUSTY NUT BASTARD! FUCKHIM AKIRA! FUCKHIM! NOW!"

This is the most I've ever heard him say fuck…oh nah...Ancient Halo is tainting him.

I love it.

Akira gave a hearty scream as he wailed into the gnarly boss, "GRRRUAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHH!YOU EAT A DICK MARGE! YOU EAT A BIG FAT COCK AND BAAAALLLLLLLLLLSSSSSSSSSS!"

Marge materialized another piss construct, this time a hammer, and swung it, the impact slinging THICCC across the arena as he leaped into the sky. His radiating piss hammer was…almost beautiful in nature. Despite all the anguish that would be unleashed once it slammed down, Akira couldn't help but admire the…genius of this boss.

The piss hammer came down in a destructive crescent, slamming down on THICCC and turning him into a pulpy purple mess. Once again, his life came to an end.

"Put these foolish ambitions to rest."

The sun wasn't merely peaking through the clouds, it was almost surreal in nature. It was a beautiful mixture of a subtle red and radiating orange. The sky was enveloped as the skyline of Tokyo beautifully stood against the rays of faint sunlight as bold blotches from a paintbrush, almost akin to an impressionism piece.

It even spilled into the apartment. It was a beautiful view, something that in any situation Akira–and even Ryuji in all his boorishness–could even appreciate.

It was such a shame Ancient Ring wouldn't release them from its disgusting grip.

Once again, it came to them like a melody, "Put these foolish ambitions to rest."

"Put these foolish ambitions to rest."

YOU DIED.

The sunrise was in full effect at this point. Just from what was present, it seemed today was going to be a good day.

Akira and Ryuji stared at the screen. There was nothing to even say. The vigor and seemingly renewed energy of Ryuji was evaporated. The constant murders and even playful attack patterns of Marge brutally beat it out of him. Hell, it was gone from Akira as well.

It had been a few minutes since their last death. Their brains were so drained from the torture, it was completely forgotten who would hold the controller next. It seemed that, for the moment at least, THICCC was completely and totally frozen in the abyss of infinite code and pixels that defined his existence to Akira's screen.

The duo spoke in unison, "Our ambitions are truly foolish, aren't they?"

Somehow, someway, the duo finally fell into the longing abyss of their sleep.

Akira hadn't realized it until he woke up, but he fell asleep with his hands clamped to the controller. As expected, he was the first to wake up as Ryuji slept like a brick. No movement, no sounds–not even a snore. That particularly surprised Akira since Ryuji snored like a bore each and every time they had hungout and slept with one another. It was silent in the apartment, except for the hum of the AC.

Akira, still feeling the intoxicating allure of sleep, sluggishly threw his head to the direction he last recalled Morgana's crumbled form. He was gone.

"M…Morgana…?" Akira grabbed his phone, at least having the cognitive sense to check the time. Before the screen reacted to the movement, he briefly caught wind of his bloodshot eyes.

Oh jeez.

It was 4 PM.

While checking the time, he saw a message from Morgana carefully tucked in his notification center.

Mona: Hey, uh…Kasumi wanted to hangout today, so I left. I don't really remember much, but I heard y'all screaming and yelling alot while I was sleeping…so I thought you two might've needed the rest.

Mona: I wouldn't really be surprised if you two were still sleeping by the time I get back. But if you are awake, then call me or something when you do if you want me to get something when I come back.

Oh my god…he sent this at…10:30…dude…

Akira gently shook Ryuji, stirring him to wake as he threw a whole bunch of profanities at him–or Marge. Akira couldn't tell at all.

"Dude…I was sleepin' so goddamn nice…" Groggily, Ryuji sat up and stretched, a flurry of yawns slipping from his mouth. As expected, his eyes were bloodshot as well.

"I hope it was nice man, we slept for ten hours man."

Finishing his stretches, Ryuji surrendered one more yawn, "That's…kinda normal for me, I can't even lie to you."

"Dude?"

Ryuji scrunched up his face in confusion, "What? That ain't normal for you?"

"To be fair, we're high schoolers in Japan. I don't think any of us get any form of quality sleep."

Ryuji opened his mouth, just to shut it again as Akira put his focus back on his phone.

Akira: Yo, we're up.

Mona: Its about time, jesus man.

Akira: How's Yoshizawa?

Mona: Oh, she's fine. We're about to watch a movie. Something about a girl living a false life and being on the run once her memories and guilt return? Seems interesting.

Akira: You suggested it? Sounds like some shit Hotaru would watch. Like that one movie he always made us watch as kids, what was it?

Mona: You talking about that Slash Dasher movie? The one that came out in the 80s?

Akira: Yeah, exactly.

Mona: ngl I actually liked that movie. But no, she suggested it.

Akira: Huh…never really pegged her as that type. Interesting.

Mona: Y'know this is another reason why you should REALLY get to know her.

Akira: :/

Akira: So, anyway, why the hell do you know what Mono is?

Mona: anyway the movie about to start I'll text you back later when it ends bye!

This is ominous…

Ryuji returned from the bathroom, a spare toothbrush in his mouth as he spat the toothpaste foam into the kitchen sink, "Hey so uh…I know what I said about it last night…but whaddya wanna do about that Shibuya creep?"

"The Madarame guy? I mean, there's not much we can do after all. We lost him, remember?"

He shrugged as he angrily brushed away at his teeth, mumbling through his words, "C'mon man, I mean…we should at least tell the others right?"

Akira perked an eyebrow, "Why?" The tone of his voice dawned upon him, "Wait…wait, I didn't mean it like that. I'm just…" He trailed off as Ryuji spat out some more toothpaste, centering his focus back on him.

"I..uh...I dunno, I guess I'd want them to at least be aware of it? Maybe they could find out anythin'? Especially Miss Prez since Kitagawa had such an interest in her."

Oh great, that's totally a highlight I want to remember from yesterday.

Unluckily for Akira, recollection danced across Ryuji's face as he asked another question, "Ain't she like a couple floors down from you? Why don't you tell–"

Akira broke into a snort, "You can go tell her if you wanna. I'm not stepping within talking distance of that girl."

Another shrug came from him, "Sure, why not?"

"What? Ryuji I was joking, we kinda don't really owe–"

"Think about it like this, I could use this as a way to find out why she was stalkin' you too. It's kinda a win-win situation, amirite?"

Ryuji might be right...plus I don't have to see her...

Is it a good idea for Ryuji to go? I could just-

No.

I don't wanna see her. I don't need to see her. Ryuji can just do it for me.

This doesn't mean a thing.

Akira lingered in his eyes for a bit, "Fine, but at least be subtle. That is the one thing I require from this…bullshit you wanna do."

"Subtle? Pfft, my middle name is subtle. Easy work."

Makoto Niijima, ever since she was blessed with the file from Ohya, kept mulling and pondering over whether she should actually open it. There was a slight pang of regret in her head, her mind wishing she would've opened it the night before.

After throwing her instant ramen out, Makoto went straight to sleep and didn't wake up until four in the afternoon. The excessive sleep that was a complete stranger to her didn't do her any favors as her refreshed analytical mind kept fixating on the file that was pinned to her dashboard.

Would it be fair to look at this?

N-No…Sakura-senpai is an innocent party…I might've been a little too antsy for information on Kurusu-kun that felt useful outside of me trailing him…

Makoto grabbed the file from her dashboard, pulling it to the trash bin as she hesitated. Her thoughts crept ever so slowly back inside of her brain.

But…Sakura-senpai is their legal guardian while they stay here…and he got hired, not so long after Kamoshida got fired.

Not so long after Kurusu-kun confronted me about it in the Student Council Room…

Come on, Makoto…that's suspicious. Plus…there's the fact he and Akira seemingly don't get along either…

She gently shook her head as her finger dragged the file back to the top of her files app.

It was now or never.

What was the worst that could happen?

She tapped on the file, standing steadfast in the consequences of her actions that would surely come to haunt her.

Sojiro Sakura File

Age: Thirty-Seven

Background: From everything I've been able to gather, Sojiro Sakura was born on February 11th, 1984, to a Japanese father and a Japanese American mother. Thanks to his parents, he bounced between his birth state–California [San Francisco specifically]-and Japan. During his stays with his father's side of the family in Kyoto, it seems this is where he met Hotaru and Haruki Kurusu respectively. (Haruki is Akira and Morgana's father, Niijima-senpai.)

His father, Naoya Sakura, was a famous jazz trumpeter here in Japan, while his mother, Misato Toudou was still a fledgling pianist and guitarist when they met. It seems this musical upbringing led to Sojiro following in his father's footsteps. Sojiro Sakura, oddly, decided to go to an HBCU as a young adult, one located in Baton Rouge, Lousiana in the United States. After obtaining his bachelor's through an early admissions pathway, he came back to Japan in 2001 where he worked to get his master's at the Tokyo University of Arts while also maintaining a fairly popular band with Hotaru Kurusu and Wakaba Isshiki.

Their band was named Eternal Sunshine and had a string of critical and commercial successes, which were partly thanks to Kunikazu Okumura–the group's manager–who used their successes to hinge the creation of Okumura Records, the largest and most successful music label in Japan.

However, the group slowed down once Wakaba had a child in 2005, eventually disbanding in 2010. (Side-Note: Wakaba passed away in 2015. Her child seems to be in the care of her uncle.)

From what I've been able to gather, his schedule is erratic. But there's one thing I've been able to pinpoint as a normal occurrence. He will always get a phone call. His voice becomes stressed and he leaves. Point of interest?

While her eyes poured over the notes over and over again, a thunderous knock formed on her front door, scaring the wits out of the girl.

For some reason, her mind raced with the fear of Sojiro somehow finding out about the file and coming for her. Or even worse, Akira knew.

Shakily, she made her way towards the door, taking a nervous gaze through her peephole to see…Ryuji Sakamoto.-

Great.

A frown formed on her face as she unlocked her door, her stare laced with enough venom it could put down a wooly mammoth, "What do you need, Sakamoto-kun? How do you even know where I–" She couldn't ignore the confused gaze on his face, "What?"

His eyes were lightly above her gaze, looking at her hair it seemed, "Uh…is that a…what the hell was it called, a Buchimaru sleeping cap?"

Red quickly spread across her face as she snatched it off, her embarrassment filling her voice, "N-No…"

Ryuji's eyes were laced with bewilderment, "Ain't Buchimaru for ki–"

"Why are you here?"

Realization dawned back into Ryuji's eyes, "Oh, uh...about Kitagawa-san, I…uh...I heard some things about him–-shit, well I heard somethin' about Madarame, I mean…"

Her eyebrow perked up, "Huh?"

"Well, the dude might be a creep. Since your sister is famous and all that shit, just be careful."

She tilted her head, "And what might've led you to this conclusion, Sakamoto-kun?"

"Heard it from a dude in an alleyway last night, he was harassin' this girl."

"And you think that makes him an ample source of news relating to one of Japan's music forces?"

Ryuji opened his mouth but quickly shut it, instead electing to ask another question, "So…why have you been followin' Akira around? You know if you wanna ask him out on a date, you should still have his number…"

Her face quickly flashed a shade of red while she cleared her throat, "And you do know that if Kurusu-kun has anything to say to me, he can simply come and talk to me like a man, correct?"

She gently slammed her door shut.

For my sanity, I hope Sakamoto doesn't tell him he can come and talk to me…

Ryuji quickly pressed the key against the lock as he heard Akira groan, "SUCK MY AMBITIOUS COCK YOU GENITAL WART!"

Closing the door behind him, he spoke up, "Dude, it's…never mind it's the afternoon."

Akira dropped the controller on the sofa as he took a required break for his sanity, it seemed he could only stomach Ancient Halo for a couple of minutes, "Exactly. Anyway, were you subtle?"

Ryuji emoted an emotion, something Akira couldn't entirely figure out as he gave a toothy grin, "Of course, how could I not be?"

"Uh-huh…she listened to you about Madarame or…?"

He shook his head, "Nope. Shot that down with ease."

"I'd assume, despite your subtly, it was the same about her detective escapades with me?" Ryuji gave a simple nod, "As expected. But, while you were gone I came up with a better idea, think you could phone Ohya and ask her to research Madarame in exchange for…I dunno, whatever the hell couples do?"

"You think couples exchange favors for sex?"

"That…was not my first thought, but then again…I am talking to Ryuji Sakamoto."

Ryuji rolled his eyes, "Oh kiss my ass. What else did you mean?!"

"Dates, Ryuji! Dates! Gifts! Literally, everything else romantic before musty bodies rubbing up on each other!"

A finger was jabbed in Akira's direction, "Hey, I'll have you know our bodies are not musty! They're–"

"So, are you gonna call her or not?"

Ryuji paused for a minute, taking his phone out as he glanced at his latest texts, "Nope. She hasn't texted me back since she got on the train. So…I guess I'm in the doghouse?"

Akira was priming himself to ask a question, but he stopped, "Right...hmm…we could try Iwai? Maybe his associateshave some underground info."

Ryuji instantly shut the idea down, "Hell no. I don't like the fact at all we're startin' to owe Yakuza-lite too many favors. Plus…I don't feel comfortable askin' him that anyway. I feel like us relyin' on his yakuza family friends might…y'know, come back to bite us in the ass."

Akira pretend to jot something down on a notepad, "Got it, you don't want to get castrated."

"Hey!"

Akira put his arms up in defense, "Hey, at least you're honest about it. Partly." He surrendered a brief chuckle before pausing, "Huh…I think I know who we can ask."

"What do I know about Madarame?"

"Yeah, since you were a pseudo-famous player, ain't there a chance you know him?"

Ryuji perked up, hearing Akira's words, "Woah, Sakura-senpai you were famous?"

Akira's snark formed, "Not sure if you would like to call it fame, Ryuji."

"Shut up, kid. And I'll tell you what I know about him later, I'm kinda held up."

There was a slight reverb in his words, which gave Akira a smile as he hung up, stuffing his bruised knuckles and phone into his pockets as he stood up on the steps. After a few seconds, a content Sojiro Sakura appeared in front of his house, his keys out and ready to release Sojiro into the arms of comfort. Though his content mood quickly faded once he saw Akira and Ryuji perched on his steps. Akira's shit-eating grin made Sojiro want to projectile vomit, "Hiya, Sojiro."

"Letting you know where I live was the worst decision I've ever made."

"Definitely."

"It is a nice house though, Sakura-sensei."

Sojiro begrudgingly accepted Ryuji's compliment as he jammed his keys into the locks, "Yeah, thanks."

As Sojiro regrettably urged the two boys inside, Akira spat a jab at his guardian, "Doesn't seem like you're too held up at the moment."

"Yeah, yeah, if you would've called me twenty minutes earlier, sure it would've been true. Excuse me for wanting to value my alone time before I have to see you and your ugly classmates twice a day for multiple hours…"

"Should've just done what me and Aki-chan here did, slept in 'till four."

Sojiro checked his watch, "You two have only been up for two hours? Jesus, you're not gonna have fun at the first practice tomorrow…and besides, I couldn't. Had to see Takamaki-kun and help her."

Akira tilted his head as Sojiro maneuvered to his coffee machine, "Huh?"

"Yeah, she's on the team. Gave her the captain position."

The duo choked on their spit, "You what?"

"Funny, she had a similar reaction. I just thought she would be a perfect fit. Just that before…"

Ryuji finished his sentence, "She just had baggage."

The aging band director nodded his head, "Correct. Now that it's gone, she's perfect for the role in my eyes."

Akira stared at the two for a moment, before centering on Ryuji, "I'd assume that means we aren't getting cursed out anymore?"

"Yeah…but just for the moment though. You know how she is."

Sojiro couldn't help but snicker as he prepared his coffee, "So, what's this about Madarame that you two decided to ruin my last day of freedom?"

Ryuji cleared his throat, "You got this, or uh?"

"I mean, you were the one who wanted some information on him in any form, so you wanna take it?"

Ryuji immediately rejected the idea of him taking the reins, "Wait, wait, but he's your guardian and you've known him more–"

Akira instantly snapped back with a comment, "I can't stand the asshole so I don't think–"

Sojiro's voice took on an angered variant, "Hey! I'm right here, and can one of you grow some balls and speak up?!"

Ryuji and Akira slapped each other on the arms until the latter sighed, "Okay, so…" He pulled his bruised hand from his pockets, "Last night we encountered this guy, he was trying to force himself onto a woman…we stopped him, and while it happened, he mentioned something about Madarame taking something from him."

Sojiro's face flattened, "Jesus kid, you butted in on that? You're lucky all you got away with was a bruised hand…that could've gone worse…"

"Yeah, I know. But what was I supposed to do, sit aside and let him try to get his way?"

Sojiro paused, "No. Don't even know why I'm chastising you, I probably would've done the same." For once, the two actually smiled at each other, "But because of this guy, you think something is off with Madarame? You sure that's the most…viable source to believe in?"

Ryuji poked his head into the conversation, "Nah, nah, that's not the reason why we think it. Last week, we met Madarame while out with Okumura-senpai."

It was faint, but Akira noticed Sojiro's eyes darkened.

Sojiro nodded, waiting for Ryuji to continue, "And then?"

"I mean, his intern, or whatever the hell he's called, ruined a shirt of Morgana's. At first, Madarame didn't give a shit. But once Haru came…he changed his tune quickly. It was weird how nice he appeared. Made us go on a little make-up date with Kitagawa-san. Whole time he was sayin' weird shit, things about Madarame not really likin' him spending his money. Y'know, just weird things." Ryuji paused as he recounted Yusuke's face, "Then once we got there, he saw us and that nice mask he had just disappeared. He had this nasty…bite in his voice. Somethin' that reminded me of Kamoshida. Kitagawa-san looked like he shitted his pants." Ryuji's eyes reconnected with Sojiro, "So yeah, that's not our only reason to be a little bit suspicious."

Sojiro took note of the fire within Ryuji's eyes, the determined nature in Akira's body language, "Okay…okay. While I was still in the music world, I met Madarame here and there. Once was before his big break, it was…I think the summer of '94. My dad took me to one of the showcases he had with younger talent. Madarame was there. Well…he was a part of this group, the lead singer was this woman." Sojiro gave a brief chuckle, "Yeah, her beauty was heart-stopping, but her voice was…angelic. I don't remember the name of the song, but it had this haunting beauty to it. God, I should've gotten her number or something before their set ended." He snapped back to the matter at hand, "But um, at that point, he was meek and reserved. But…after his break with Sayuri, it was almost as if he was a different person. Hella confident, never dropped his shit-eating smile. It was annoying. But outside of that?"

He took a sip from his coffee, "Yeah, I don't know that much about him. Sorry."

The duo was in deep thought as Akira presented a question, "So…you think we're onto something?"

Sojiro shrugged, "Maybe. All those weird things you said…plus the lucky break with that guy? Too many strange coincidences. But…I don't want you two to do anything. Don't be stupid teenagers, and let me figure some things out, okay?"

Akira sighed, "The one time you act like a guardian is the time where it's not needed. Jesus."

"Ha, so funny. Guess you forgot I'm supposed to be a guide and protector of developing minds too, huh?"

Before Akira could bite back, Ryuji's eyes jingled with an idea, "Ooh! Sakura-senpai, Madarame said somethin' about wantin' us to do a Battle of the Bands with Kosei, you think you could use that to our favor?"

Akira and Sojiro frowned, "I don't think that's a good idea, Sakamoto-kun…I haven't even heard you guys play at all. We haven't started practices…don't really like the idea of my first showcase with my band only being done so we can gain information on an annoying guy who might just be a typical weirdo."

Ryuji's enthusiasm dwindled as he addressed his band director's points mentally, "Yeah…"

Sojiro placed his cup down as he walked to the door, "Tell you what, I'll call around, see what some of my friends have to say. Just…remember to let me handle things first. Don't do anything reckless." Sojiro and Akira met each other in the eyes, "Okay?"

For once, Akira was on the same page, "Okay."

"Good. You two get home safe." Sojiro closed the door behind them as he retreated back to his coffee, putting his phone on the counter as he stared at a caller ID.

"Sae Niijima."

Even though Akira wasn't the best when it came to baseball, smacking something was a nice way to vent his frustrations.

"So, we actually gonna listen to him or?"

Akira gave a grunt of effort as he put his all into his swing, the impact between the ball and bat eliciting a satisfying CRACK! to their ears as the ball flew, "Can't believe I'm saying this, but yeah. The old bastard's kinda onto something."

Ryuji slouched against the fence, crossing his arms, "Yeah. This ain't the same as dealin' with King Dickhead like you said. We're gonna need to get all the help we can possibly get and not rush into this, y'know."

Akira couldn't help but flash a grin as he readied to bat at another ball, "Another investigation, and it's a famous person this time. Can't even lie, I still wanna be normal teenagers but–" Akira released another swing to send another ball flying, "-at least we might be doing something for the greater good again."

"At this point, we might as well be teenage detectives. Instrument players? Musicians? Chasing after women? Pfff! 'Eff that we spend our precious time creepin' on the scum of society!"

Akira started to chuckle as the dispenser spat a baseball at the side of his head, "Ow!"

Ryuji lurched from the fence, "Dude? You okay? You think Sojiro got anythin–"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." Akira gingerly rubbed his head as he wobbly stood up straight as another voice came out from behind them, "Sojiro? Like Sojiro Sakura?"

The two boys looked behind them, seeing a young man with shaggy brown hair, although it was messily tucked away inside of his baseball cap. His sparse stubble was unkempt, it seemed like a trend for him, even with his casual getup.

Akira perked an eyebrow, "Y-yeah…? You know him?"

"Pfftt, you should be askin' how he knows me!"

Akira and Ryuji's faces stayed flat, "Right…"

The man's face went flat as he tried to stomach their flatness, "Uh…you really aren't gonna ask? Why someone like me wants to meet Sojiro Sakura?"

Ryuji piped up, "Because you're a fan? Congrats, I guess?"

The man snapped his head, "Oh come on! I'm Junpei Iori?! The famous baseball player?! Who the hell doesn't know me?!"

Their faces didn't change one iota as Ryuji shrugged as Akira gazed at him before he turned his vision back to the baseball player, "Yeah…I don't know who you are, bossman."

Oh, wait, this is the guy that owns the apartment complex right?

Yeah, that'll totally make him feel better.

'Yeah, you're the guy that owns my apartment! I totally know you! Not from your…baseball career that may or may not be eventful?'

I'll keep that to myself.

Probably smart. Don't really need him to have a vendetta against me right now.

Junpei's spirits dwindled as he spat out a request, "Please…tell me where Sojiro's new house is…"

"It's towards the back of Yongen, just look for a house with a red post box and you'll find it. Don't you have his number?"

"Yeah, but I want to surprise him. Tried his apartment but he wasn't there…guess he's not staying there for the time being since he bought the house. Kinda dumb since I gave him that apartment for free…"

As expected, Ryuji finally caught up but a sharp glare from Akira told him to keep his mouth shut.

"Anyway, thanks, kid. I owe you two."

"No worries, annoy Sojiro for me, will you?"

Junpei walked off as the duo finally left the batting pit, "So…he owns your apartment?"

"Imagine how heartbroken he would've been if a high schooler who lives in his apartment building doesn't know who the hell he is? I would be homeless before you can say 'effin."

"Ha. Ready to have another session in Ancient Halo?"

Doom and gloom shackled the boys, "Y-yeah…"

A/N:

I wanted this chapter to be longer and I even wrote up a whole 5K section but I wasn't liking how it was going so I deleted it. Maybe I'll feed some of the plot events back in the next chapter but I'm not sure. Next chapter already starting off to be one of my favorites, I just gotta keep the energy going throughout the entire thing.