Monday, 9/12

Ren sat up, deep breaths escaping from his mouth. Beads of sweat dripped down an already moist face. The commotion brought the attention of his temporary caretaker. Tae turned her swivel chair to face the examination table, which Ren dangled his legs off.

"Uh… what day is it?"

"The twelfth of September. What day did you think it was?"

Ren shook his head, telling Tae that she missed the reasoning behind his question. "Felt like I was in there for years." Tae didn't respond, but she did jot down a quick note. "So it's the twelfth, that means it's a Monday, and Mondays mean…" Ren looked to the clock on the wall, getting an unpleasant surprise as soon as he processed the information. "That I'm late for work. Shit."

"You asked for the trial."

"Oh, I'm not blaming you. Boss doesn't really care if I'm late," Ren quickly explained. He felt obligated to Sojiro for treating him so well and basically paying for his life in Tokyo while Ren gave very little back to him in return. The least he could do was be on time.

Tae flipped the top page on her clipboard up and read whatever info laid beneath. "Good. I'll contact you when I need your help."

Ren just nodded, keeping everything he'd learned to himself. There would be no point in returning to Tae's if the promise of the hallucinations no longer remained. Ren would either have to continually deny Tae's invitations or pretend to have her drugs work.

I'll cross that bridge when I get there. For now, I can try to live a normal life like I'm supposed to. Well, if I wasn't being lied to again. I should be skeptical of everything that happens in the hallucinations, especially all that bullshit Akechi fed me. I'll confront him about it whenever I see him, but it wouldn't hurt to take some things seriously. I'll check on Kasumi, but not just because Akechi asked me to. Or so I tell myself…

Ren also wanted to tell Makoto of his findings. He felt genuine enthusiasm to talk to her about what just went down, but didn't want to approach her so soon after their semi-breakup. It would come across as clingy, desperate, and a bit attention-hungry. Plus, the likelihood of her believing him wouldn't be high. Ren would give her space, just as she asked, and take some time to himself for reflection. Like Makoto said on the roof, it would be healthy for both of them.

I'm not a bitch. I can handle a few weeks without being able to say, "I have a girlfriend," right?

That would remain to be seen. Until then, Ren started the tedious process of keeping a low profile and going about his life as normally as possible with everything that had just been revealed. Step one of that was leaving Tae's and going to work.

Ren slid off the edge of the examination table, waving at Tae just as he walked out the door. "See ya, Tae!" he called back behind him before walking out of the clinic entirely.

Tuesday, 9/13

"Careful with the suggestion box, Niijima-senpai!" Eiji called as Makoto set the box down a bit too harshly on the table. The four members of the student council all pulled up chairs to the table, ready to begin the meeting. To begin, they would have to account for the suggestion box the first time of the semester, meaning that there would probably be quite a few suggestions.

"Relax, Eiji. She's been doing this for three years now," Noriko remarked, snickering to herself. "I think she knows what she's doing."

"Well, maybe she could use a little he-"

Makoto held up a hand towards Eiji and shook her head, though with a polite smile. "I'm alright, Eiji. Thank you." Eiji's face reddened as a content smirk followed. He sank into his chair as Makoto reached into the suggestion box, momentarily pulling out the first little slip of paper. Holding it close to her face to read the small writing, Makoto read the note allowed for her peers. "'Noriko's Shujinstagram should be public.'"

Michiko and Noriko laughed, but the oldest and youngest members of the council were unamused. "How dare they insult vice president Taira-senpai! If I knew who left that…"

"Keep your muscles in your shirt, Eiji," Noriko teased. "It's just a joke, don't take it too seriously."

Eiji, disregarding everything he was just told, sat forward and looked at Noriko with bold eyes. "You're not taking it seriously enough! Notes like this show a severe lack of respect for you from the student body. If you don't demonstrate your authority more, we could have an uprising."

Noriko squinted her eyes, clearly confused. "Uh… sure, Eiji. Why don't you start your morning by uprising with some bitches?" Michiko laughed and Makoto smirked, barely covering it with her hand in time for nobody to notice. She got annoyed by Eiji at every council meeting, and just a little teasing could be tolerated, so long as it was deserved. Noriko reached across the table and gave Michiko a high five as Eiji sat back in his seat to stay quiet and sulk.

Eiji reminded Makoto of one of her friends. Ryuji could be intolerable at times, but he always found a way to make it endearing. His constant jokes or smiles were always in support of his friends unless his ego was being challenged, and he had the most loyalty of anybody in GRAVY. Makoto didn't know Ryuji nearly as well as Ren did, but she knew he would have her back if she asked. The main difference between Eiji and Ryuji was that, well, it was sad to be around Eiji.

"Okay, everyone, that's enough joking around. We have a report to do on Hawaii, plan the midterm schedules, and look over new PTA funding papers, so we don't exactly have time to waste," Makoto said, getting nods of approval from the other three members. Eiji even forgot that he'd been the butt of every joke told at the meeting, giving Makoto his undivided attention. Reaching into the box again, Makoto found another slip of paper to read aloud. "'All of the popular girls are talking about working at a Shinjuku club. They all talk about how much they make, and they're getting some of my friends to join. I don't know what to do.'"

Makoto sighed as she set the note down. It was nice to actually get something interesting the student council would have to work on for once, but did it have to come during a time when so much paperwork had to be completed? Also, the nature of the suggestion box limited how helpful the student body could be. The small sizes of the notes meant that information would inevitably get left out, just like it did with the newest note.

Each of the student council members quietly thought to themselves after Makoto read the note, considering their options. They would briefly go over possible solutions before moving on, as they usually did when they got a note. The first to open their mouth was Eiji.

"Boy, I hope none of you guys are working there!"

"Eiji… ew," Michiko said, scooting her chair away from him.

Noriko chuckled to herself, yet did the same as Michiko. "Moving on, what do we think?"

"We can investigate. Given how Shinjuku is to our peers, I don't doubt the validity of the note," Michiko reasoned. "I'd be glad to look into the club, if we decide to pursue it."

"Of course we'll pursue it. We need to make sure those girls are okay," Makoto said, a little offense taken in her tone because of Michiko's 'if.' "I'll go to Shinjuku. A little recon can't hurt, and we can decide where to go from there." With more nods of approval, Makoto moved to the next item on the council's agenda. "Now, who's ready for paperwork?"

Between the two girls groaning, Eiji's hand shot up. "I am!"

"Never thought I'd see the Amamiya palace with my own eyes," Futaba joked as Ren welcomed her into his apartment. "I'd like to thank the Academy, Sojiro, and all the people fighting overseas. War is just so sad," she continued, mimicking a teary-eyed actor pretending to be down to earth.

Ren laughed as he led Futaba over to the couch. The plan for the afternoon was nothing but video games and catching up with Futaba. She'd been left out of Hawaii, the only one in GRAVY to not be part of the trip. Ren felt bad, so he invited her over to hang out for the afternoon.

"The guy at the front desk in the lobby is a bit of a dick. I asked what apartment Ren Amamiya was in, and he told me there was no Ren. I thought he was fucking with me until I remembered that it's your guardian's apartment. I tried to apologize, and he just was so bitchy about it."

Futaba complaining about a social interaction? It's a good thing. I'm surprised she actually took the subway on her own to get here, too. I guess that's just how progress works, right?

"I never really talk to him. I hung out in the lobby sometimes when I first got her, but he gave me so many dirty looks that I decided to become a recluse." Ren turned on the TV as he spoke with Futaba, switching the input to his console and passing Futaba a controller.

Mischief got the better of Futaba. "Hey, do you have room service here?"

"Highrise apartments usually don't have room service."

"Well, if they do, wanna order a shitload of food under Iori's name just to screw with the staff?"

With an actual concept of consequences, Ren shot down the idea. "No? People spend time on that stuff. I don't want to waste Junpei's money, too, because he's decent to me, even if he's a bit weird." Dismissing Futaba's idea reminded Ren of how sheltered she'd once been. She vindictively wanted to mess with the highrise staff just because of one bad interaction.

I'll consider it room for improvement.

Ren started up the one-on-one Rash Toes match with speed, and Futaba took control of the match with even more speed. She lured Ren across the map, into attacks, before striking with her own. Dodges transitioned into heavy attacks with no effort at all and any combo Ren managed to start ended with a well-timed block. The point of the afternoon wasn't to compete with Futaba in Rash Toes; that was a lost cause. It was just to socialize with her.

And so, for the next hour, that's what happened. In between high-octane moments of adrenaline where Futaba and Ren screamed at the screen in frustration, triumph, or a little bit of both, they spoke to each other. Ren filled in details of the Hawaii trip while Futaba provided anecdotes about Morgana's habits.

The cat hadn't been too enthusiastic about being reunited with Ren after Hawaii. He was just as demanding of food as he'd been before, while also being just as lazy. Ren wouldn't have had it any other way, as a lazy Morgana meant that not a lot of time needed to be spent on the cat.

However, there was one difference in Morgana following the Hawaii trip: his attachment to Futaba. Whereas Morgana would usually nap away from the commotion when Ren had friends over, he laid right on Futaba's lap while they played video games. He sat through Ren swearing his ass off, and Futaba jeering at the same time. The cat showed a tremendous level of patience just to be able to spend a little time with Futaba.

Morgana's mood set the precedent for Futaba and Ren's post-gaming decline in energy. Futaba, lacking serious muscle mass and failing to meet the majority of health standards for girls her age, naturally got tired with ease. Ren, on the other hand, had gone through a full school day on little sleep before getting his ass handed to him by his friend for an hour straight.

The only way to rest their tired fingers was to switch the TV back to actual television, and to Ren's default channel.

Everyone's favorite newswoman looks a little tired today, doesn't she?

"The murder of an adolescent has shocked the-" Ren quickly muted the TV as soon as he heard the last thing he wanted to hear. Futaba punched him in the arm.

"Hey! I was listening to that!" Reeling at the punch, Ren involuntarily let Futaba grab the remote and unmute the TV.

"We welcome adolescent murder expert Bill," the newswoman said as the camera panned to Bill's family-friendly face. "Bill, based on the details police have released to the public, what makes this murder stand out?"

Bill crossed his arms and smiled at the news anchor. "Well, the guy died, and that's very, very bad. Murder is very, very bad."

"Wow. How do you do it, Bill?" the newswoman asked, scratching her head as she played up her disbelief for the camera. "You bring such a unique perspective every time we have you on. I'm glad you're on our staff, or else we'd have to compete with you!"

Bill accepted the compliment with a smile and a nod before the camera cut away from him. The news segment on Yoshiro's murder transitioned into the usual shitstorm of news, soon losing the interest of Ren and Futaba.

"The others were talking about Yoshiro at school without you, you know," Futaba suddenly said when Ren muted the TV. "I listened through Ryuji's phone."

"As they should. There was an assembly about it, and I missed it. That should make in the prime suspect in everyone's mind."

"Well, I mean, they were just saying that no one deserves to be murdered and that they didn't like the gossip. Not much more," Futaba said, curiously looking at Ren from his side. "They didn't bring you up if that's what you're wondering."

"Why would I wonder that?"

"Duh! You and Yoshiro have history, and everyone knows it! You want to know if they think you're involved with his murder."

"They know that I wasn't. I was in Hawaii."

"Yeah, but…" Futaba hadn't looked away from Ren. He'd gotten too bummed out over the news report for Futaba not to notice. "Are you involved with it?"

"I…" Ren paused. He could be honest with Futaba, trusting her as a friend to keep the secret until he told the others, or he could treat her like the rest of GRAVY and keep it private until his birthday. "I'll tell you all soon. There are some things I want to let sit, and then I'll clear everything up. That's a promise, okay?"

"Okay. I like it. Showing a little initiative, huh?"

Ren chuckled. "I guess. Hold to me to it, alright?"

"I'll dox you if you don't."

"I don't know what I would do if you weren't so encouraging," Ren said, unamused by the unserious threat. Out of nowhere, a knock on the apartment door cut through the conversation. "That's probably the maid I ordered," he said with a smirk as he got up to answer the door.

The TV unmuted behind him as Futaba paid no attention to the door. Ren, not able to dismiss it, turned the doorknob and pushed to find a young man and a young woman side by side. Both dressed in fashionably black business attire and held clipboards with pens attached by a string.

"Hello, Iori-san!" the woman began with a bubbly voice. "We're from the Shibuya Polling Station, and we're taking advance polls for the prime minister election. We sell the data to interested parties. Have you decided who you're going to vote for?"

Uh… they think I'm Junpei?

"Who are the top candidates?"

"The two popular frontrunners are Masayoshi Shido and Shig Sima," the man answered. "They're two opposite sides of the spectrum. Whereas Sima is a more typical candidate, Shido is radical. His big promises are riling voters up." The man paused to look down at his clipboard before resuming eye contact with Ren with much less hope than before. "If you don't know the candidates, I assume you don't know who you're voting for."

"You're right. Also, I'm not Iori. I'm his son, Ronald. If you want to reach him, you'll have to go bar-hopping while yelling, 'General!'" Ren leaned towards the man, hanging his head over the clipboard to look the man in eye. "Think you can do that?"

"Uh…"

"Have a great day! Good luck with your polling!" Ren stepped back into his apartment and slammed his door shut. Futaba gave him an inquisitive look, subtly asking who was at the door. Ren shrugged as he sat down on the couch next to her. "Pollers. It's that time of year, I guess."

"Oh, the election? That stuff always sucks. Every election year ruins social media because everyone thinks their opinion is worth a shit."

"That's some real shit," Ren said, chuckling at how surprisingly right Futaba was. For a girl whose mental age was severely lacking, she showed high intelligence in certain scenarios. Ren changed the TV back to the console as he readied himself for another gaming session while passing Futaba her controller.

Wednesday, 9/14

As the school-ending bell rang, Kawakami called Ren to her desk. "Maruki-san requested to see you in the nurse's office," she said quickly as she packed a stack of papers into her bag.

"What for?"

Kawakami held up both hands, mimicking quotes. "'Recent events and mental health.' He didn't say more than that."

"Okay. Thanks for letting me know."

"Don't thank me. I'm obligated by school rules to tell you."

"You know what I mean. See ya, Sensei," Ren said as he turned and grabbed his bag from his desk.

Walking out the door, Ren took a right instead of his usual left. He took the long walkway across to the practice building, descending down the first stairway he saw to end up right next to the nurse's office just in time to see its door opening.

Stepping out, red hair flashed before Ren's eyes, sending him back to the hallucination from Monday in an instant.

"I ask nothing of you but empathy."

As the red-haired girl began to walk in the opposite direction of Ren, not noticing him, he walked quickly to catch up to her and tap on her shoulder. The girl spun around, her always-pure, glassy eyes looking up at Ren.

"May I help you?"

"Yeah, uh…" Ren realized he didn't think through what he planned to say. Akechi asked him to look into Kasumi, yet he didn't consider how to go about it. "Didn't I see you in Hawaii?" A vague, fleeting image of Kasumi passed through Ren's memory. He couldn't remember any context except that it was at the hotel in Hawaii.

"I'm sorry," Kasumi said, taking a slight step back from Ren. "Do I know you?"

"What? It's me, Ren Amamiya. Gardener? Delinquent? Lord of GRAVY-esque Goodness?"

Kasumi's confusion grew more with every title that Ren listed. She cocked her head like a dumbfounded puppy. "I think you're confusing me for someone else."

"I helped you buy glasses for your dad. The pair with the red frame."

Kasumi's eyes widened. Her confusion turned to frustration, and the steps she'd taken away from Ren were given back as she got in close. "Why do you know about that? Is there something you want from me?"

Caught off-guard by the quiet girl raising her voice, it was Ren to step back next, raising his hands defensively in front of him. "Look, I helped you buy those glasses. We waited in line for thirty minutes to get food after. If you don't want to remember, or if I've done something wrong… that's fine. Just be honest with me."

"I think you should ask Maruki-sensei to check if you're alright," Kasumi said, glancing down at Ren's school vest. She noticed his second-year patch. "Senpai." The girl, not giving Ren any second thoughts, turned and walked away.

Left stranded at his original destination, Ren sighed in defeat and turned away from Kasumi. He knocked on the door to Maruki's office. A second passed, then the door did as Ren expected, with Maruki appearing in the doorway.

"Afternoon, Amamiya-kun. Come on in." Maruki waved Ren in as he walked over to his usual chair. Ren took up residence on the couch, taking a piece of chocolate from the bowl on the coffee table in the process. "It's been quite some time since our last meeting, hasn't it? How was your summer?"

Ren shrugged. "About what I expected." A bullshit answer, true, but the right one for Maruki. The counselor must have had a reason to steal Ren's afternoon, and going through the motions of small talk didn't get to that purpose.

"I wish I could say the same," Maruki glumly stated. "I trust you know why."

"Yoshiro?"

Maruki nodded. "He'd shown so much progress. He'd grown more than anyone I've ever worked with. Honestly, it was incredible. It may not affect you in the same way it has me, but-"

"Well, what happened still affects me. Obviously, Yoshiro and I weren't even close to friends, but he didn't deserve death."

"You don't hate him?"

"What? Of course I hate him," Ren spat. Maruki was taken aback by the venom but didn't intervene in Ren's anger. "What he tried to do Makoto… it's unforgivable. Punishable by death? No. Deserving of more than a slap on the wrist with some counseling sessions? Yes."

"That can be taken as belittling to the work that Yoshiro and I did, you know."

"Yeah, sorry, but you have to admit that I'm right to an extent. I mean, I got punished more than him! I didn't hear about any detention, or-"

"Amamiya-kun, you're lucky to still be here. Kobayakawa wanted you suspended," Maruki interrupted, likely growing tired of the complaining. "You and Takata were in entirely different situations, deserving entirely different responses to your actions. That's perfectly understandable, isn't it?"

Agitated, Ren bit back. "Aren't counseling sessions supposed to be for one-sided venting rather than debating?"

"Who said this is counseling?" Maruki asked, leaning forward in his chair. "Should I be counseling you?"

"I…" He'd gone into the nurse's office and shown unintended hostility while not knowing why he did it. Maybe he could use some of Maruki's help. "Sorry. I didn't mean to speak to you like that."

Maruki chuckled to deflate the tension. "Don't worry about it. I get it; everyone's high-strung after what happened, and you have a negative personal connection with Takata. It's natural for you to feel this way; feel some anger towards him and others."

"I'm glad that I'm at least predictable," Ren joked.

"You're still full of surprises, I'm sure. I can tell there are a few things up your sleeve."

"What do you mean?"

"You know more than you should. I don't know what about, but you're burdened. You don't know it yet, but your solution is right around the corner." Maruki pushed back into his chair, righting his posture and sitting up straight.

"You can assume all of that just by looking at me?"

Maruki flopped his hands into his lap, giving Ren a satisfied smile. "It's how I put food on the table." When Ren didn't respond, Maruki navigated the conversation into more purposeful territory. "Listen, Amamiya-kun, I did call you here to check in with you, but I also wanted you to be the first to know that my tenure at Shujin is nearly up. I'll be leaving in November."

"Where're you going?"

"To help people however I can, I know that much," Maruki said. "I'm not sure of the specifics."

"You'll still be in Tokyo to help Futaba, right?" Futaba needed Maruki. Actually, did she? If Maruki truly did his job, Futaba would need less therapy as time went on. Maybe Maruki not being able to help Futaba would be another push in the right direction for her social life.

"Oh, of course. I couldn't abandon a client like that."

Ren was surprised by the counselor's terminology. "Client?"

"Friend. I don't abandon friends."

"Then what happens to the people here who need you? Do only your friends get to see you?"

"You're missing the point, Amamiya-kun. Outside of a private number of students whose families employ me as a therapist, I'm nothing more than a stand-in for the school counselor position."

Ren recalled Maruki's early words to throw them in his face. "That could be taken as belittling to everything we've talked about, Maruki-san."

Maruki chuckled. "Are you angry with me, Amamiya-kun?"

"I don't know. You're leaving because... I don't know. I can't even pretend to know. I'm sure you've got adult shit to do, but it's a bit of a betrayal," Ren explained, trying to give the counselor tangible feelings to work with.

"That's the natural reaction." Maruki paused, glancing over at the clock on the wall, turning back to Ren with steeled confidence in his expression. "I'd like to assure you that I won't leave this school with any loose ends. The students of Shujin won't be left wanting. Do you understand me?"

That's a weird promise to make, but sure.

"Yeah, I guess."

"Good. I suppose that concludes our-"

"Actually, I have one question." Ren squirmed in his seat, remembering his awkward encounter with Kasumi outside the nurse's office. "Has Kasumi been acting weird? I just talked to her a few minutes ago and she acted like she didn't even remember me."

Smiling, Maruki-shrugged. "I'd call it petty adolescence. Maybe she's holding a grudge against you. Did you do something to her?"

Ren closely inspected Maruki's expression. The counselor's smile gave off the impression that he was toying with Ren, leaving information out.

Well, I can't hold that against him. Therapy is supposed to be confidential, so if there is something he knows about Kasumi, he can't tell me. I shouldn't have asked.

"Not that I remember."

"Then I would give her some space. Try to reflect on how you've interacted with her. See if you can deduce the problem for yourself," Maruki said.

"I'll try." Ren stood up from his seat, extending a hand to Maruki. "Thank you for your time, Maruki-san."

"Anytime."

Ren turned and left the nurse's office.

Thursday, 9/15

The days without Ren had gone perfectly for Makoto. An overabundance of homework and student council catchup waited for her after returning from Hawaii, and she dove into it headfirst to lose herself. She had so much work that she genuinely forgot that Ren was no longer her boyfriend.

Makoto couldn't even manage to do the thinking that she promised to him. She didn't know what that entailed, and if there was any reasonable conclusion to arrive at, but she needed something to go back to Ren with. She couldn't just say, "I miss you," and have everything go back to how it was before Takata's death.

Despite her forgetfulness, Makoto thought she handled the situation well. Taking time apart to consider things separately surely guaranteed the best possible outcome for everyone. Well, so long as the both of them actually thought over things, rather than avoid doing so.

"So…? When are you going back to him?" Yuriko said from across the table to Makoto, pulling her from her thoughts of Ren. Makoto and Yuriko already had lunch together a few times since school resumed, and their most recent meeting wasn't planned to be anything special. Yuriko did know about Makoto putting distance between herself and Ren, but she obviously didn't know the gory details. "Three days is a lifetime for teen relationships, ya know."

"Three days haven't even been enough time for me to get caught up with my calculus homework."

"And that is why you should not do your calculus homework," Yuriko said, smiling as she ate from her packed lunch. "Take it from me, a girl who stopped doing calculus last semester and has reached a high point in her life."

"Getting low grades is your high point?"

"Not caring about the low grades is my high point. Sometimes, it's better to just stop giving a fuck."

"Yuriko, I wish that was true, but thinking that way is exclusively for people our age. When we have jobs, bills to pay, kids to take care of… you can't just stop caring."

"Sure you can. Quit your job, pack your bags, and move to Korea. Simple as that." Yuriko's smile told Makoto that the whole sentiment was a joke, but it still frustrated Makoto. The concept of not caring felt criminal.

Makoto weakly smiled as she closed up the bento she'd made for herself. "Agree to disagree."

"Fine." Yuriko sat back in her chair, crossing her arms with a widening smirk directed at Makoto. "You are seriously skilled at dodging questions, ya know that?"

"Um…" Makoto hadn't even noticed that she'd dodged Yuriko's original inquiry.

"Duh, Ren? Gimme a status update!"

"I haven't really thought about it."

"Haven't thought about it?!" Yuriko sounded offended. "Makoto, if every girl in this school didn't think Ren was a domestic terrorist who goes graverobbing every Saturday and kidnaps children every Sunday, they'd be tripping over themselves to get at him. He'd literally be the king of Shujin Aca-"

"I get your point, but it's important to not rush through this, right? I don't want to make the wrong decision."

Yuriko's social senses kept her from telling any more jokes while getting serious with Makoto. "You're right. I'm just screwing around, so don't listen to a word that comes out of my mouth except if I'm agreeing with you."

Makoto didn't respond to Yuriko, continuing a mini-vent of what was at the forefront of her mind. "Besides, there's this whole thing that the student council has to do in Shinjuku, and I really need to redo the club budgets, and we have to find a guest for the culture festival, and I-"

"Run-on sentence!" Yuriko cut-in. "Don't worry so much. Plus, if you really need something done, just tell Ren to do it. I'm sure he's eager to prove himself to you." A lightbulb went off in Makoto's head. She looked at Yuriko with wide eyes. "Uh… remember to not listen to anything that I say," Yuriko said, nervously chuckling at Makoto's crazed look.

"Too late."

Limo doors opened to a flash of light and the clicking of a horde of cameras. Haru stepped out into the crisp air, staring down the mass of reporters that parted before her. They stood in the way of her doing something as simple as walking into her house.

Within her first steps down the temporary aisle, a handful of microphones and cameras were pushed in her face with questions being slung at her from every direction. "Haru-chan! What do you think about your father's proposed tax on petroleum imports?!"

"Haru-chan, Haru-chan!" another reporter called from her right. "Did you know about your father and Kanami?"

Haru didn't like the implication of the question. Still, her face didn't react, or else it would be eaten up by the tabloids. She stayed calm, trying to get through the crowd to her front door.

"U-um…" Haru tried to walk forward, but the horde had her surrounded. More flashes, more questions, more microphones, more sensory overload… all of it made Haru sick to her stomach. Only when the limo driver, who was also paid to be a security guard, took Haru's hand and pushed through the crowd did she regain power in the situation.

"Okumura-san! Do you support your father's Japan First agenda?! What about the…"

On and on they went, with Haru knowing absolutely nothing of what they were talking about. If Kunikazu's campaign garnered enough attention to harass a girl ignorant of the whole campaign, it wasn't doing anything right.

Haru was dragged through the open door to her emptily large home. Only her security guard, who left to deposit her bag as soon as the door closed behind them, could be seen in the massive entrance hall.

Turning around, Haru faced the crowd through the glass windows that covered the front of the house. Reporters could easily see Haru and they continued to take photos of her in her own home. What they would use the photos for was lost on Haru, as she was sure she hadn't given them any headlines.

As she looked at the mass of reporters, a thought occurred to Haru. There had been something bubbling in the back of her mind for months, but it took a mob with the goal of making Haru's life worse for her to realize it. This isn't my home anymore. I can't live here, she thought, looking directly into the flashing cameras of the press.

Haru spun, again facing the entrance hall. Cupping her hands around her mouth, Haru announced her intentions with as much volume as she could muster. "I! Quit!" It would do little beyond confusing the servants at the house that day.

Haru's proclamation wasn't meant for the physical world. Haru had grown sick of her last name; what her life had been built upon. Quite simply, she wanted 'Okumura' to fuck off. What better way to tell one's name to fuck itself than to make sure the foundation of that name heard it. Every last wall would resonate with Haru's words until she was personally satisfied.