Part two of Ataru's trip to Tomobiki!

Random fun fact? This convo between Shinobu and Ataru was the first set of dialogue I wrote, and originally wasn't really part of anything. To say it inspired the whole story wouldn't be accurate, but writing it out did give me the push I needed to dive into other chapters and put the whole thing together.

I enjoy worldbuilding, and there is a lot of great fodder in UY for that.

CHAPTER 9: DOORS

In the tranquil, pale blue darkness of Kosuke's room, Ataru opened his eyes and reflexively turned to the window. Dawn was approaching, heralded by a faint flame glowing out of the eastern horizon that bled into shades of saffron as it crept steadily into the retreating abyss of night. Five A.M. or so, if he had to guess. An unholy hour on any normal Sunday. But today Ataru was thankful for the internal punctuality his employment had instilled. Considering how fast gossip spread through Tomobiki, he could bank on word of his stay with the Shirai's reaching his mother by mid-morning, if it hadn't already. To avoid an unplanned reunion with her and Lum, he'd have to leave before then. Hence he swept the comforter aside and gathered his shirt and pants in silent preparation for his departure.

Kosuke had never been a light sleeper, and he was unaccustomed to sharing a room with anyone. No matter how quiet Ataru aimed to be, he inadvertently roused his host. Propping himself upright with one arm, Kosuke used a free hand to wipe the sleep from his drooping eyes.

"You're up?" His voice grated against the silence around them. It was still so dark. "What time is it?"

Ataru fastened the last button on his shirt.

"Around five, I think." He replied, bending down to gather and fold the futon. Ataru did this automatically, encouraged solely by the knowledge that he'd hate to have a guest that didn't pick up after themselves. Not that he could fathom bringing anyone into his woefully unfurnished apartment.

"Shit." Kosuke cursed the early hour, now rubbing his eyes with both hands a little more aggressively. Really? Five in the morning? Why, no, how was he even awake? Kosuke squinted curiously at Ataru through the faded purple haze of pre-dawn filling his room. What he saw wasn't at all what he expected. "Wait." Ataru was fully clothed, and he'd just dropped what appeared to be the futon - folded no less - into an empty corner by the door. "Are you leaving?"

"Yup."

"What's the hurry?" Leaving at sunup? Before breakfast even? It was Sunday for crap sake. Not like he had a schedule to keep and getting up this early to chase women seemed unlikely, even for Ataru.

"Uh," Ataru hesitated, his mind racing for an answer that didn't make him sound like a coward trying to escape before anyone caught up with him. Even if that's exactly what he was doing. "Oh you know, reasons." Despite his breezy reply, Kosuke saw right through him. A knowing smirk relieved some of the fatigue around his eyes and he pulled his own sheets back.

"Alright, I'll see you out." With a groan Kosuke dropped his feet off the bed and quickly stretched the stiffness from his lower back.

"Pretty sure I remember where the door is."

"Well I'm up now." Kosuke grumbled as he forged ahead in defiance of his sleep-worn body. Once he was up that was it, so he might as well wish his friend a proper goodbye.

To avoid waking anyone else in the house, they crept quietly down the stairs to the genkan where Ataru stepped into his shoes. Kosuke opened the door as carefully as possible, slowly turning the knob before gently pulling it back. There was nothing they could do to silence the creaking of old wood, but thankfully nothing came of the noise.

Outside was like a different world. The air was hot, motionless, and humid with evaporating dew. Birds tripped among the grass and branches, filling the morning with tremulous music. To the east the sun had finally peaked, shooting rays of golden light across the tranquil town. Ataru took in a breath of thick morning air, then turned to face Kosuke who was now slouched against the doorframe.

"Hey, thanks for letting me crash here." The gratitude in his voice was unexpected. Kosuke had to stare at him a moment, just to make sure this was really Ataru and he wasn't dreaming. Granted, if he'd been faced with the same situation, he'd be feeling pretty grateful himself.

"You don't have to thank me for that." Kosuke flapped his hand dismissively. "You can thank me for the TV though."

"I paid for that." Ataru reminded him flatly. That was a transaction, not a charity.

"Not yet you haven't but you better not forget." Kosuke's warning was met with an offended huff.

"I told you I'd get you Monday."

"We'll see. Just remember I'm tossing it if you don't come through." Kosuke fixed him with a skeptical glare that was more feigned than real and rooted in humor. Ataru pouted angrily outside the door, which earned a laugh from his friend. "Anyway, guess I'll see you, it was fun catching up."

"Yeah, same." Ataru agreed as he repictured the events of the night before, and at the memory of Kosuke's mother he was brought to sudden attention. "Oh yeah, thank your mom for me too."

Now Kosuke really wasn't sure if he was dreaming. First the guy goes and puts his bedding away without being asked, then this? Folding his arms he regarded Ataru with almost scientific intrigue.

"When did you get so damn polite?"

Ataru only snorted and turned his nose up at Kosuke.

"I'm not heartless you know." Being judged was annoying. Then again, he couldn't exactly blame Kosuke for being surprised. Ataru wasn't exactly known for his compassion. But things were different now. Now he knew better. "Moms work hard."

Disbelief overshadowed every other emotion on Kosuke's face, and he was reduced to staring. Ataru was keenly aware of this and could feel the warmth of embarrassment in his cheeks, coloring them red. Time for a swift escape! "A-Anyway, see ya!"

Whirling on his heels Ataru briskly retreated down the front walkway, glad to hide his face from the prying, questioning eyes of his friend.

"Yup, see ya!"

Lingering in the doorway he watched Ataru turn a blind corner and disappear out of sight. Kosuke thought of their time together, of the interesting things he'd learned about Ataru's life lo these last few months, and even the strangeness in his behavior this morning. A smile teased the corners of his mouth, and to himself Kosuke shared his appraisal of the situation. "My boy is growing up."

Coffee wasn't typically a drink Ataru indulged in, yet here he was nursing a warm cuppa just outside a 7-11 in Tomobiki's commercial center. It was the only drink he could think of strong enough to keep him awake through the early morning hours, especially after such a trying night. And what a nice surprise, it was rich and comforting and kept his fatigue well in check. Even the flavor, bold and nutty, wasn't that bad. Honestly it was downright pleasant! No wonder his coworkers drank it so often.

Clasping the warm cup in his hands Ataru took his time strolling through the shopping district, which was finally starting to gather a crowd. He felt like a tourist marveling over relics from a different time, conjuring memories of a life well lived with the friends he so dearly missed. And like he'd done that hot afternoon in Chūōkōen Park, Ataru wondered over what they might be doing right now. Judging by the height of the sun it was coming on mid-morning, so for all he knew, they were out wandering these very streets, same as him. Perhaps he could swing by one of the café's they used to visit for a chance meeting, or even try his hand at chasing skirts on his old stomping grounds! And what if Lum were to catch him? Hm. Well that was a risk. Hell, just being in Tomobiki was a risk. And yet, strangely, he couldn't muster the appropriate level of fear he knew he should be feeling. Ataru paused at a street corner to consider the meaning behind his feelings, when a familiar silhouette crossed his peripherals. At once his attention was hooked! He knew that chestnut brown hair, the shape of her body and the way she moved. No matter how much time had passed she wasn't someone he could ever forget.

"Shinobu!" Ataru practically cheered, his heart fluttering at the sight of his oldest and dearest friend. What a tremendous stroke of luck for her to be the first person he'd run into! "Hey Shinobu!" Ataru all but skipped toward her, feeling light as a feather uplifted by joy.

Such an unprecedented meeting, he could certainly excuse Shinobu for standing there, astonished, eyes wide and mouth agape.

"A-Ataru!?" She stammered, at once abandoning whatever task had brought her here to embrace her long absent friend. Had she not felt the weight of him crash into her, arms wrapping tightly around her body, Shinobu would have thought she was dreaming.

"Ataru! It's been so long! Where did you come from?" She laughed, her mind full of questions though she didn't truly care for the answers. What did it matter where or why? She'd missed him terribly, more than she expected or realized until this very moment.

"Oh you know, just visiting!" He chuckled, unwilling to rehash the truth behind said visit. Ataru leaned away from her, hands still clasped around her back. "Hey, let's get some tea together! Like we used to!" He urged with feverish insistence. The coffee he'd been nursing (now abandoned on the street) was fine enough, but it couldn't compare to tea with a good friend. Especially when that friend was Shinobu! So much for her mother trying to keep them apart.

Personally, Shinobu hated that she couldn't accept his invitation with the same abandon she had in high school. A lot had changed for her post-graduation, and much like himself she now carried the burdens of a stringent schedule. Granted, Shinobu's path was far less traditional than his or any of their other friends. College felt more like a fantasy than a normal course of life. And the very idea of something so humdrum, after all her rich experiences, was suffocating. No, her calling was elsewhere. And while she may not look the part right now, clad in a golden sundress and wide-brimmed white straw hat, tucked away in the heavy bag slung over her arm was a uniform marking her unique occupation.

Shinobu could see some of the light fading from his eyes when she hesitated, and it was enough to sway her decision in his favor. Whatever punishment her actions might incur from her odd collection of bosses would be paltry at best. So what was the harm in taking a little unscheduled break?

"Sure!" A warm smile flashed across Shinobu's face, and Ataru practically beamed. Not sparing a moment he took her hand in his and charged excitedly forward. If memory served Sweet Café Kemo, one of the many places they used to frequent as high schoolers, was pretty close.

"Let's go let's go!" Frankly Ataru didn't care where they went, he was just overjoyed to see Shinobu again after so many months apart.

Over the course of their walk Ataru and Shinobu traded history. But not before he made sure to tattle on Mrs. Miyake for refusing to relinquish her number. And when the question of why he called came up, Ataru wrote it off as a simple desire for her company. Living alone was lonely, he complained, to which Shinobu nodded approbation. Which wasn't quite the reaction he hoped to inspire. Well, if he couldn't get her to fawn over him, perhaps he could impress her with how mature and adult he'd become. Like he'd done the night before, Ataru wove a story that painted him as a hardworking, independent man with a mastery over both time and money. For good measure he even invented a working environment where he was looked up to and revered for his tenacity and dependability. Shinobu had a feeling he was embellishing. Nevertheless, she gave him her undivided attention and hung on his words. Learning he jumped right into the workforce was simultaneously surprising and predictable. Honestly, she didn't see him as the type to flourish in any sort of environment that required discipline and composure. But considering he failed the National Exams, well, at that point his options were pretty limited. In any case he seemed to be doing well, and that's really all she cared about.

When it came time for her to share, Ataru was stunned to learn what she'd been up to. Not only because Shinobu abandoned conventional education, but the occupation she ultimately chose was very unexpected.

"Wow," Ataru marveled at her from across their table, which was flush against a large window overlooking the town square. "So you actually work for the Destiny Production something something?" The surprise on his face and the way he fumbled her company name made Shinobu laugh.

"The Destiny Production Management Bureau, yes." She confirmed with a slight nod. "After everything that's happened to us over the years, I couldn't imagine myself going to university or sitting in an office." She summarized a great deal of consideration and nights of deep thought in that one sentence. "Besides," she added gently, eyes cast down to a neglected menu, "I love crafting futures. Some of them are sad, but I can give people lots of opportunities to be happy and find the things they want." A sigh left her, one that held many different emotions. "Of course it is really up to us what doors we end up walking through, but I do what I can within the limits of my job." Clearly, by the look in her eyes, she'd experienced many ups and downs to mark her unique profession.

Ataru was rapt with interest to hear that someone he knew was working in another dimension, literally forging the lives of real people everywhere around the planet. The sheer scope of her task was incomprehensible! And of course, amid all this wonder, he couldn't help gleam an angle to play for himself.

"So that means you know what will happen to everyone right?" He pressed excitedly, and Shinobu could see where this was going without even hearing the rest. "Do you know my future?" He grinned, hopeful that having someone on the inside would allow him access to forbidden information.

"I'm not telling you that." She teased, just as a waitress came to ask after their order. Shinobu requested chamomile tea, while Ataru requested the waitress's number - and green tea, after she shot him down. Shinobu could only laugh; no matter how mature he claimed to be, Ataru was still Ataru.

"Anyway," Taking the rejection in stride he plunged right back into their conversation. "Really? You can't even give me a tiny hint?" He begged, leaning across the table to grab for her hands which were whisked swiftly away.

"No." Shinobu would have left it at that, if not for the pleading look in his eyes. Perhaps feeding him a bit of harmless albeit interesting information would tide his appetite for more. "What I can tell you is that when we are born, we all have hundreds of doors available. But as we live our lives and our path narrows, many of those doors collapse." Ataru's eyes flashed suddenly.

"I remember that!" More specifically he recalled it as a punishment by the Bunny men for meddling in futures they weren't meant to see. Ataru never would have guessed it was also part of the lifecycle of future doors. "So that just happens?"

"Yes." Shinobu added sagely. "Once we choose a path that makes it impossible for another reality to exist that door falls. By the end of our lives, we each only have one door left. It is the last one we ever walk through."

Ataru felt the nerves of his spine quiver at the thought of this final door. He didn't even notice a man come in place of the waitress to deposit their teas. The concept of eternity in one last door was far too haunting, far too real. And it was everything he feared. Falling doors, a loss of options, the narrowing path, and ultimately death. Life was such a finite thing.

"So," He ventured apprehensively, "how many doors do I have? Do you know what ones are left?"

Shinobu could see a shade of fear starting to darken his face. Well, that made sense. What person, young or old, did not fear the inevitability of mortality? Perhaps she'd said too much already, particularly for a man like Ataru who drank heartily from the cup of life and clung so desperately to his greener years. Oh well, there was no helping that now. All humanity must face the reality of impermanence and endure the consequences of the choices they make. Shinobu was just thankful Ataru would never know how it felt watching your own doors fall, knowing none would be remade. That was a burden of her profession she'd never share.

"Sorry Ataru, there is no way I'm risking my job." Her tone was professional if empathetic. "Plus, there is no way for me to tell what doors you will choose. And anyway, we're still young. There are plenty left for all of us." Her words seemed to give him some comfort. His shoulders relaxed and he fell back in his chair, finally taking up his tea for a pensive sip.

So there were still plenty left. That was good.

"Besides," Shinobu continued after taking a moment to savor her own drink, "I'm not allowed to handle the futures of anyone I know. My fiancé takes care of that." Ataru nearly spit his tea.

Hold on a second!

"Fiancé!?" He sputtered aghast, the whole business with future doors forgotten completely. Meanwhile Shinobu, clearly humored by his response, chuckled behind her hand. There was an impish gleam in her eyes that gave him a pretty good hint as to who this not-so-mysterious person could be. That, and well, there was only one other person he knew of who worked in the Bureau.

"I-is it..." Try as he might, the words stuck in his throat. Ataru always knew this day would come, once he'd privately made the choice to stay with Lum rather than continue his attempts at rekindling things with Shinobu. Still, even if he didn't regret the decision, knowing what would happen and hearing it firsthand inspired very different emotions.

"Inaba." Shinobu confirmed his suspicion with a bashful smile. And there was a radiance about her that only comes from someone truly in love.

"I thought so." Ataru sighed, letting the shock of it wash over him.

What the heck was with all his friends lately? Just yesterday Kosuke was talking about moving abroad for his girl (and school, so he said), and now his childhood friend was taking the next steps in her relationship too? Indeed and truly, they were all walking toward adulthood, like it or not. Ataru was beginning to sulk when an intrusive thought muscled its way to the forefront of his mind. Suddenly his face turned sour and he glared at Shinobu with great offense.

"How come I didn't hear about this?" As her oldest and obviously dearest friend, he should have been the first to know!

"You've been hard to find." Shinobu scolded him coldly. Under her reprimand Ataru chuckled nervously and dipped his head in apology.

Ah, right. In his efforts to keep Lum from tracking him down, Ataru hadn't considered the fact that none of his other friends could reach him either.

"By the way, I saw Lum the other day," Shinobu added, pausing to sip her tea again.

Ataru felt his heart pound at the mention of her name. He stared down into his cup, not really wanting Shinobu to see the torment reflected through his eyes. After last night he was struggling with the distance between them and the length of time he'd spent away. In the beginning, pride kept him rooted in the decision to wait and experience the coveted bachelor life. Yet over the weeks and months his yearning heart mercilessly chipped away at his resolve piece by piece, until he was forced to give ground to the idea of seeing her again. Soon.

"She said you've been working very hard to save enough money for the two of you, and that is the reason nobody has seen or heard from you." Shinobu searched his face for a reaction, but the fact he was hiding it told her more than his eyes would have. Feeling mischievous, she decided to twist the knife a little further. "She looked so sad, not that I blame her. She must be so lonely."

Ataru sagged back in his chair, his heart doing much the same in his chest. Well, he supposed that made sense. Before leaving he'd told her that he'd be working hard to make money in hopes she'd believe it was for them rather than to fuel his last stand as a bachelor. In that moment he felt justified. Ataru only had one youth to live, and he just couldn't stomach the idea of switching from student to bona fide husband in one fell swoop. Now though, hearing she'd believed him wholeheartedly and was standing by the statement, even using it to defend his absence from his friends, just made him feel miserable. Sure, ultimately, all this was for her. That future he'd been so worried about losing the other day had nothing to do with women or his freedom (a fact he struggled to admit even privately). He just needed a break, a getaway, a vacation. And it was going great in the beginning! But right now...right now he just felt awful.

Shinobu watched him, sipping her tea and relishing the guilty pleasure of knowing he was likely squirming inside. Served him right. He was awful to Lum sometimes, and as a woman once scorned herself, she could empathize with her former nemesis. At times she was even thankful Lum came along. Better the Oni girl than herself dealing with this pride-stricken moron.

Under her gaze Ataru stirred a spoon through his tea. He wanted to ask her if Lum was still...well...if she mentioned anything about other guys. Or if she liked her job. If she was happy otherwise, excluding his absence. But no. He couldn't. Because if he did Shinobu was sure to tell Lum that he'd been worried. And if that happened, she'd just hold it over his head. Ataru felt his defenses rising, hoisted by his own stubborn pride and refusal to be towed.

"Well, you know how having a full-time job is." He said at last, taking a rather defiant swig of tea, still avoiding direct eye contact with Shinobu.

"I know how you are." She countered swiftly, hiding a sly smirk behind her cup when Ataru sputtered into his. Okay, that was just annoying! Did everyone think they knew him better than himself?

"What are you talking about?" Ataru argued. "I am busy. I'm busy with a lot of things." Not like she knew the whole story! He really was working hard! She had no idea how much of a struggle it was to work five days a week, maintain an apartment, and still find time to enjoy the evaporating spring of his youth! Why did everyone treat him like a criminal?

"I can guess what you're busy with." Shinobu quipped. Oh yes, she could imagine he was busy with this girl or that girl. Like an old dog incapable of learning anything new, forced to follow the same tired paths he always took out of simple convenience of comfort. Or, in his case, if she had to wager, out of fear of the intensity of his own love.

"And?" Ataru snapped, slapping a hand down on the table. "What's wrong with treating myself?" There wasn't a doubt in his mind that Shinobu knew what he was up to, so Ataru didn't see any point in hiding the truth from her. "I had to deal with a lot of crap all through high school and I always came through! I deserve a break you know!" That was the real meat of it. Ataru had to endure constant meddling, electrical torture, a jealous wife, and that wasn't even going into all the spirits, crazed monks, ghosts, alien hijinks, and other various inconveniences to his young life. All on top of school no less! And through it all, no matter the odds, Ataru always came through for them. He came through for Japan, for the Planet, and he'd literally gone through ten days of torture to show Lum how stupid she'd been for doubting him. Did that not earn him this one little bit of respite?

"If you say so." Shinobu let his argument slide off her shoulders with a dismissive shrug. He could say whatever he wanted to justify himself, it wouldn't change her opinion. Ataru could tell that as well by her response, and it steamed him good.

"You guys have no idea how I feel." Ataru huffed, arms folded, head turned defiantly away from her.

"We do know how you feel." Shinobu clapped back sternly, finding no charm in his obstinance. Her cup clattered against the plate as she set it down with force. "We just think it's stupid of you to go through this whole song-and-dance when you already know what you want, as if it's some sort of punishment." Now, she could excuse his fear of commitment, given his home life and the questionable content he consumed from manga and other media. And on some level, she could also understand his obsession with women and the driving need for variety before settling down. Even his refusal to do anything that could breed misunderstanding (such as being forced to admit his love under duress) was penetrable. What Shinobu couldn't tolerate was his blatant disregard for the effect his words and actions had on those he claimed to love. Honestly, she was just tired of his flippant behavior, and she had no idea how Lum tolerated him for this long.

"I wouldn't expect a girl to understand." He hissed quietly. And almost instantly regretted those words.

"Excuse me?" Fire blazed in Shinobu's eyes as they locked with his from across the table. Her anger wasn't rooted too deeply, more whipped up in a passion of self-respect and lack of patience for his nonsense. However, it was no less hot and the consequences still very real should he not watch himself.

"N-nothing!" Wisely, immediately, Ataru backtracked his statement, both hands furiously waving in submission. Time had not erased the lessons he'd learned with regard to Shinobu - her vengeance was swift and brutal. His ego couldn't compare to her raw power; that was a fight he couldn't win. Besides, the last thing he wanted to do was taint their pleasant outing with his poor choice of words. So Ataru surrendered, laughing like a fool. And after a tense moment, she joined him.

Theirs was a strange friendship forged and hardened over years of shared adventures, trials, burdens, losses and victories. Shinobu knew how deeply flawed and complicated Ataru could be, despite his simple nature, and Ataru trusted in her devoted friendship. Small tiffs such as these could hardly dampen their bond. Quite the opposite. After so many months of radio silence, interactions like this were refreshing in their familiarity.

"You know, it really has been nice catching up like this." Shinobu sighed wistfully, wiping away a joyful tear. Then she added with sincerity and a touch of well-placed sarcasm, "You really should find it in your busy schedule to come around more often."

"Yeah. I know." Ataru's cheery smile faltered. He stared into his cup, which was nearly finished now, and thought of Lum. "I plan to. Soon." He whispered a promise, one Shinobu could tell wasn't really meant for her. Rather than tease her friend, she chose to grant him a short moment to himself while she finished off the rest of her tea.

"On the subject," The cadence in her voice drew Ataru's attention. "I really should get going." Shinobu then began digging through her bag in search of something.

"Already?" came the swift protest, "C'mon we should have dessert at least." Their time together, despite encompassing at least the hour, felt far too short.

"Well, you know how having a full-time job is." Shinobu flashed an impish grin as she referenced his earlier excuse. Ataru rolled his eyes but appreciated the humor.

"Yeah yeah." He huffed, slumping defeated in his chair. When he noticed she pulled out a wallet Ataru stopped her with a swift gesture.

"No I got it." He insisted, much to her surprise.

"Really?" She queried suspiciously.

"Yup. No worries." His confidence allayed her reservations and she decided to let him have this, whether or not he was being genuine. Not like two teas would break the bank or anything. Moreover, he seemed to be doing well, which reminded her, "Oh! I'll need your new address."

"Oh really now?" Ataru leaned across the table, eyebrows wagging at her suggestively. Shinobu was having none of that.

"Well you have to get your invitation somehow."

"Right." Ataru deflated in his seat; of course it was for wedding invitations. How boring.

Shinobu handed him a small piece of paper and a pen dug from the depths of her bag and Ataru scrawled the information eagerly. After all his musings and so many days of work-induced isolation it felt good to leave a veritable calling card for someone from his old home. Before handing it back Ataru twiddled the pen in his fingers, tossing her another flirtatious glance.

"And what about yours?"

"You and your jokes!" Shinobu laughed as she swiped the paper from him, followed by a not-so-gentle slap on the shoulder. "I guess some people really never change." There were times when Shinobu felt like life was moving far too quickly. In the, roughly, year and change since graduation she'd landed a job, moved into her own apartment, and gotten engaged. It was dizzying! So being able to step back into the past like this, with someone so dear and familiar to her heart, was uplifting. Still, Shinobu hoped he could get his act together before the door she knew he wanted to walk through fell for good.

Collecting her belongings, Shinobu got up to leave, stopping by Ataru's chair on her way to the door.

"Take care of yourself Ataru." Her words were sincere and warm. A hand rested gently on his shoulder, where it was soon covered by his.

"You too."

Sitting there alone, Ataru replayed bits and pieces of their conversation about the doors. He could still picture them, floating in negative space, innumerable and interminable. And as if he were there, he could see them falling too; paths that could never be reclaimed. Much as he hated to admit it, Shinobu was right not to spare any details. Ataru wasn't sure he even wanted to know what choices were left, never mind hearing about the ones no longer available to him. What kind of future was there for a guy who recycled the same seven days, week after week? And what if...what if this was just it? What if every door led to the same dark apartment and endless toil? And if they did, could he really be surprised? Not like he'd made any improvements to his living situation after all this time. He still struggled just to do the bare minimum required to be a functioning adult. What's worse, he barely had any money to show for the hours and hours he'd sacrificed to the grind! Shit, this was no different than being in high school again! And if that was the case, what the hell was he even doing?

"Would you like anything else?" The waitress from earlier was standing beside him, smiling in spite of any misgivings she had about returning. Ataru could see the uncertainty in her eyes. He'd learned to identify that sort of thing, if only from seeing it so very often. When he looked up she did her best not to flinch at the memory of his flirtatious advances. Lucky for her, Ataru was no longer in the mood.

"No thanks."

Surprised, and also relieved, she gently bowed and left him to serve other tables.

Ataru stood, paid his bill in plastic, and passed through the glass cafe doors into the churning streets. It was noon, judging by the sun, which meant he could probably go home now if he wanted. Ataru looked down the street in both directions - one would take him to the train station, the other, further into Tomobiki. He hesitated. People passed around him as though he were invisible. And after a moment more of silent deliberation, he chose the latter path. Only, this time, he did not marvel at the landmarks of his childhood or let himself grow drunk on the familiarity of being home again. Instead, Ataru relived the past few months in memory, starting with his move to Senshoo. All of it was like a blur of unremarkable moments, from the postage-stamp days of work to his weekend exploits. Very few of them stood out as noteworthy. Compared to just one weekend in Tomobiki, everything else fell flat. They all had something to be excited about. What did he have?

Without meaning to Ataru found himself at Tomobiki park, where he was confronted by even more vestiges of the past. Lum was, arguably, the only good thing he had going for him. And he'd all but pushed her out of his life, even if it was temporary. Ataru scanned the sky above, dark eyes roaming across the blue canvas, searching the clouds for shadows that could only belong to one person. Why...why hadn't she found him yet? He was right here, right here! For all her talk about the red string of fate, one would think she'd just know he was nearby. Weren't they supposed to be connected? So where was she? Why wasn't she here? Then again...why would she be? Ataru laughed aloud at the absurdity of it. What was he thinking? As if she'd just show up out of nowhere.

If only.

Yeah? And then what? What would he have to offer her other than flimsy excuses, a bare apartment, and empty pockets? In the same way Tomobiki outshined his home in Senshoo, the lives of his friends outshined his own. Compared to Lum's obvious success, and Shinobu, who appeared to have her life in complete order, and even Kosuke and Hokuto with their bright prospects, Ataru felt completely inadequate. For the first time since his journey began, the heavy hand of shame settled over his prideful spirit – his apartment was practically as empty as the day he'd moved in, some of his belongings were still in boxes believe it or not, and his savings were so meager he couldn't even call it that. If things didn't change he'd end up just like his father, barely scraping by and pinching every penny. What the hell was even the point if after everything he'd gone through he wasn't doing any better than when he started?

Ataru swiftly retraced his steps out of the park and back through Tomobiki, walking as though he were programmed to do so. And on his journey to Hashirimawaru a plan began to form where there had been none. Brooding over Lum's absence and the success of his friends wasn't going to do him any good. Something had to change, otherwise, he may as well run home with his tail between his legs and admit to Lum that he missed her and that being on his own wasn't at all what he envisioned. And after all his boasting and fast talk, there was absolutely no way he could do that. His pride as a man wouldn't allow it! Things were going to change, he was going to change, starting today! Not just for Lum, or because he was jealous of the others and their bright futures, but for his own damn self.

And thus Ataru gets a much needed wakeup call! After seeing his friends doing so well, moving on with their careers/schooling and love lives, he's starting to feel inadequate. I also wanted this chapter to be a little more about him making a decision for himself. Doing things because of someone you love is great and all, but it's more important to do things because you want to better your life in general. Ataru needed to see that he hasn't been living up to his potential, and thanks to the fear of those falling doors and unhappy futures, that fire has finally been lit :3