The feast following their day at the beach is lavish, with servings to please everyone's tastes and then some. Octopus, fresh fish, shrimps, steak brochettes, grilled veggies, and a variety of sushi are laid on the table. Mitsuru seems almost sheepish as the maids are serving; she might come across as arrogant sometimes, but she doesn't enjoy showing off her privilege. Iori sets that straight, again.

"Man, this is great, I'm in heaven! Th-Thank you, Mitsuru-senpai! Thank you SO MUCH! I could die right now with no regrets!"

At least he talks when it counts.

Mitsuru smiles at the boisterous teenager, she looks somewhat bashful too. Akihiko smirks at the display; he might not always appreciate Junpei, but maybe she'll finally let it go now and that's a great achievement in his book.

Everyone probably ate too much and they move on from the dining room to a large lounge area, much more spacious than the dorm's. Junpei is shuffling a deck of cards, teaching Fuuka, Yukari and Minato a game and Mitsuru has excused herself to talk with her father. Whatever team bout they're playing at the table seems to have mellowed the bickering somewhat, or perhaps it's the drowsiness of the hot summer night under dimmed lighting doing a number on them.

He swears Minako was here a second ago, perched on top of her twin's sofa to look at his cards, but Akihiko can't see her anywhere anymore. Curious, he puts the book he was perusing on a coffee table and starts walking around quietly. There are quite a few crannies in the room, but he finally spots her ponytail near one of the heavily draped window alcoves at the back.

It looks like she's staring at the crest of the waves crashing below through the glass, her eyes dazed and her fingers crossed behind her back in the gloom. Minako looks pensive, indrawn, and shuffles her feet a bit as he approaches. Clearly, she's aware he's standing there but it doesn't change her demeanor.

Akihiko feels like he's tiptoeing on her privacy, and he hesitates. Maybe she'll turn around with a bright smile and act like nothing, maybe she'll ignore him, but he feels like it's an unspoken invitation. She's squeezing her fingers together, her thumb pressing in the opposite palm somewhat hard.

Walking slowly, he ends up behind her, so they're hidden from the view at the back of the lounge. She's still not moving and he tentatively moves his right hand to hers to grab her attention, but she wraps his fingers between hers delicately, pulling him toward her with a skim of her nails.

"Are you okay?"

She lifts her head and cocks it to the side, still looking right ahead while whispering.

"…I'm sorry, I just… needed some quiet."

"Oh…"

Thinking she means he's intruding; he shifts his weight to take a step back, but she pulls again, very lightly. Her palms are very warm and yet she applies the barest of pressure to his.

"You're quiet."

His mind isn't, it's undulating in static waves, singing a song in his veins in tandem with the shoreline's majesty. He brushes his thumb on top of her knuckle and takes a step toward her, he has no idea what he's even doing and his ears are burning up.

They've shared some moments like this in silence before, always just the two of them, but that was… before… and there wasn't anything this tactile about it. He doesn't know why that fact is so different, but it scares him. There's his single right hand, pressed between both of hers like a flower in the middle of a book. It's anchoring them together, just this lone point of contact that changes everything.

It's overwhelming, but also not enough.

Akihiko raises his left wrist to her shoulder, barely pressing his fingertips to her shirt, like she'll break. Minako sighs gently and barely leans her head toward it when the lounge door opens, and Mitsuru's heels reverberate across the room like little pointy hammers.

They break apart in a jolt like they're guilty of some sin.

"My father would like you to join us in the reception room, please."

Minako takes a deep breath and turns on her heels to go join the others, but as she passes next to him, she leans her head on his arm, like a cat brushing a doorframe, and whispers.

"…Thank you."

Akihiko is too shocked to answer or react, but he follows her, dumbstruck. There's a radical change in the way she acts in just the short few seconds it takes for her to saunter next to Fuuka and Yukari, smile on her face. Like she's walking on a stage to perform. He thought he wanted a moment with her, but now…

I want all of them.

He doesn't even think about it, it just happens. As they are filing in the reception room, where sofas are scattered, he simply follows her stride and sit right next to her, where her brother usually does. He's still a bit dazed and that fact doesn't register until Minato sits on his left and he's sandwiched between both twins.

Uh…

Akihiko feels very uncomfortable for some reason and asking to swap seats in front of everyone would be kind of fishy, so he just shoots an eyeful of apology at Minato on the down low. The twin is smirking at him and barely mouths a reply.

"Suck it up."

That guy I swear…

She's barely an inch to his right, bright but solemn, not looking at him, and Fuuka on the other side is containing a smile with her lithe little hands. Hopefully all she's laughing at is the expression on Minato's face because of the impromptu seat assignment. He sighs, running his thumbs over his palms to avoid jittering too much. Also because his hands are tingling something fierce.

Everyone is in place now, somewhat intimidated by Mitsuru's father. He cuts an impassive figure, and the eyepatch just adds gravitas to his presence. Takeharu Kirijo nods at the groups on each side of the room, looks at his daughter with an unreadable expression, then begins his explanations.

"From what I understand, Mitsuru has already given you the short version. Well, it's true… We adults are to blame."

He shuffles his feet, uncomfortable with what he's about to say.

"If I could've atoned for it with my life, I would have done so… Now, I have no choice but to rely on you. What my father wanted to create with those monsters' power… was a time manipulation device."

Mitsuru looks surprised.

"That's what he was trying to do?"

Takeharu nods grimly.

"Imagine if you could control the flow of time… eliminate unwanted events before they occur. With such a device, you could shape the future to your liking."

Junpei whistles softly, slack-jawed at the implications.

"Damn, that's insane!"

"However, under my father's direction, the research began to stray from its original goal. In his later years, my father seemed to have only nihilism in his heart. Now that I think about it, his madness may have resulted from his struggle to break free of that…"

His tone is almost sad now, resigned.

"It's only natural that you want to know the truth… and it's my duty to tell you."

Mitsuru's father takes one of the controllers on the table in front of him and punches some buttons. The room dims and something starts to play on the projector.

"This is the only existing footage of the accident, recorded by a scientist who was at the scene."

Screeching static plays, then very grained footage. They can barely see the shape of a person on the screen but the details are impossible to discern.

"I pray that this recording reaches safe hands…"

Takeba edges to the edge of her seat, eyes like saucers in shock.

"That voice…!?"

"My employer has become obsessed with a loathsome idea. This experiment should have never even been conceived… I'm afraid what I've done will result in an unprecedented disaster. But If I hadn't, the entire world may have paid the price… Please, listen carefully… The Shadows that were amassed here have been dispersed as a result of the explosion. To end this nightmare, you must eliminate all of them! I am to blame for this. I knew the risks, but I was blinded by the promise of success… And so, I didn't raise any objections… It is all my fault."

The image of the distorted video becomes clearer for barely a second, but Takeba slides from the sofa to her knees on the floor, staring at the broken feed with tears in her eyes.

"…Dad…"

Fuuka extends her hand to her, shaken.

"You mean… that was…?"

Yukari is too stunned to answer but stares back at her friend with blank eyes, confirming her suspicions. Mitsuru looks at her dad with a subdued expression, unsure.

"Father…"

Takeharu takes a breath and briefly closes his eyes.

"His name was Eiichiro Takeba… He was the head researcher at the time, and a very talented man. But, we are the ones that are responsible. We pushed him to continue the research. The Kirijo Group is to blame for his death."

His daughter shakes her head, shocked.

"I… I can't believe it…"

With a shocked, wet voice, Yukari starts speaking in a low voice.

"So that means… my dad caused it all? The Dark Hour, Tartarus… The people who died in that incident… It was all his fault?"

From his position on the sofa, Akihiko can sense the tension and weight shifting on his right when she mentions the incident ten years ago. Shifting his position, he lays his right hand next to hers on the fabric like it's just a coincidence and gently rubs her little finger with his own. It's devious, and sneaky, but nobody seems to notice and she instantly relaxes.

Fuuka is rubbing Yukari's shoulder from the sofa, eyebrows creased in worry at her friend's anguish.

"Are you okay?"

She doesn't answer, but her voice is swelling into anger and she's staring at Mitsuru.

"So, that's why you were hiding this…? Because you felt sorry for me? Is that it!?"

The heiress is taken aback at the attack.

"No, Takeba, I…"

"I don't want your pity!"

Yukari screams, crying, and runs off.

Mitsuru takes two steps forward, wanting to catch up with her, and hesitates. Before she makes up her mind, Minato is standing next to her and touches her arm with a determined expression.

"Let me."