Sunday, 12/11

"It's an early morning for you, Re— oh… Wow."

Sae's astonishment let Ren into the Niijima apartment, as she couldn't move to stop him or say any words, let alone a rejection. He passed the mirror by the entrance and couldn't blame her for her reaction; put-together Ren was a rare character. His clothes were neat, his chin was clean-shaven, and his hands weren't empty.

They bore flowers.

And the shirt is collared—that's the most important detail.

Sae closed the door behind him, still looking him over. "I'm impressed."

The hair is still messy—that's the second most important detail.

"Really? I didn't think I'd look this good."

"Oh, trust me, you don't," Sae said, smirking and crossing her arms. "You still look like 'teenager lands first date', but it's respectable." Her eyes narrowed. "And unexpectedly early for a Sunday morning. What'd you do with the real Ren?"

He's stuck in Classroom 2-D with Ozaki.

"I, um…" Ren's face grew hot, which made him stumble even more. What was so embarrassing about taking a date seriously? Was it Sae's stare? Was it a problem with Ren? Was it that damn collar itching his neck? "I was struck by the urge to do something for Makoto… And I thought that we never dress up when we go out."

"Is it also because you forgot to dress up for the gallery?"

Makoto told her? That's it—date is over, cancel the relationship, raze the city to the ground.

"Maybe."

Sae stifled a laugh, shaking her head as a knowing smile formed. Ren recognized the look—it had years of life behind it, condescending to anything and anyone considered youthful, but not in a bad way. Just appreciation that the times weren't a-changin' as much as one would think. "Makoto's still getting ready, so… I don't need to tell you to make yourself comfortable after you've been here so much, right?"

"No, you do not, but I'll always ask permission. It's your apartment." Ren was joking with her, but it was the truth. If Sae was present, it would be a respectful, reserved existence. There were exceptions, of course. A respectful, reserved existence was difficult to pull off when one was hallucinating in a foreign environment.

Ren walked further into the apartment, past the living room where Sae had the morning news on. On-the-ground footage of a campaign rally, its subjects frothing at the mouth for the glorious voting process. Their signs were bright and bold. Their screams were loud and indistinct from one another. Their devotion to a man they did not personally know was frightening.

There was comfort to be found in the Niijima apartment, though. Ren sat down at their kitchen table, the side that didn't face the TV, and enjoyed the calm view of the fridge. He hoped the TV, and its agitating view of the election cycle, didn't sneak up behind him.

Unfortunately, reality was cruel, and more terrifying things could happen.

"Seriously, Ren, what's with the dress-up?" Sae said, taking the spot opposite of him. "You've known me long enough to be honest."

"Uh…"

"I'm not the protective older sister anymore. I'm happy you're dating her, and I want you to be comfortable around me because that's what Makoto wants. I'm justifying a simple question with a little too much honesty, so I would appreciate some in return."

"Yeah… Uh…" Curse his teenage youth. Sae was reaching out to him and he was so shocked about it that he made her look like a fool. Approaching someone with honesty and receiving mind-numbing conversational ad-libs was depressing for anyone, even someone who used to be the scariest person on Earth. "It's a lot. No, it's actually very minor, but it's a lot to me. And it's nothing against you, I just can't find the words for it."

Sae raised an eyebrow. What did they have but time? Only Makoto could put an end to their conversation, nothing else.

We've dated for a while, but when have I put effort into a date? When did I go out of my way to make it interesting? I invite her to movie marathons. I want to do better than that. It's not for me—I want her to feel like she's dating someone who cherishes her.

That gave way to deeper thoughts, the ones that hid under the collar of Ren's shirt and in the bouquet of flowers he brought.

Because… I don't come off that way. I'm uncaring. I never get gifts for her, I never show up out of the blue and surprise her. I'm simple. So today, I want Makoto to be happy that she stuck with me this year. She deserves that at least.

There was a caveat to all this, of course.

I still have to go to Junpei's meeting… Hey, on the bright side, it means I can't rely on an evening movie marathon to close out the date. I've got to end it in broad daylight.

Thinking of the obligation brought the image from the night before: Yusuke walking away, thumbs-up extended behind him. Since then, Ren had heard nothing from the artist. No text, no call, no public declaration that their friendship had been voided.

I'm pissed about it, but today's for Makoto. And for a little bit of Junpei. Madness is a Monday thing.

"I understand, Ren," Sae said, accepting the silence as enough and cutting through Ren's stillness. "Another time."

It's weird that I'm genuinely scared of saying something like this to Sae, right? She's gone out of her way to make me comfortable (notably at a very uncomfortable time of day for someone like me), and I'm too awkward and insecure for an answer… Jeez. Maybe I can tell her in ten years when I have a steady job as prime minister, Makoto and I are married, and our first child is born is the chosen one, ready to lead Earth to an era of unprecedented prosperity.

"Thanks."

It's more possible than pigs flying, right?

Already, the date veered off the road; Sae's questions forced Ren inward, closing him off from the confidence he walked through the door with. The outside world was a scary place again, and Ren felt chained to the idea of movie marathons, game nights, and GRAVY Saturdays.

"Where are you taking Makoto today?"

"We're gonna enjoy the oddly sunny weather and go to a fancy lunch."

"Wow, very grown up. This new Ren continues to impress."

Because the old one disappointed so often, right?

"You look a little tired… I can fix you some coffee if you like." She stood up as if he had approved, making him think that she planned on making coffee for herself as well. "It might not be as good as a trained barista's, like yours, but it wakes me up."

"No, thank you." Was he tired? Dark rings were ever-present under his eyes, even darker on mornings when he felt well-rested. Shujin's starts were early enough that Ren numbed himself to the tiredness; Sundays, even early ones, were hugs that reminded him he could feel anything at all. Still, Sae called him tired. "I feel fine, but I don't know… Weird dream."

Sae started the pot of quick-brew coffee and turned around, leaning against the counter. She had no exhaustion lines. A full-time job, which often required extra hours away from home, hadn't tormented Sae enough for visible exhaustion—what was Ren's excuse?

"What happened?" Sae asked.

"I, uh, was on a boat in the middle of the ocean… Purple water, black skies. Not much happened—really, nothing at all—just floating until I saw a shoreline." Ren remembered it too well for it to be a normal dream. His other recollections were parting moments and nonsensical anecdotes, but he could visualize a beginning and end for the purple ocean. "Someone was on the shore… They yelled and yelled, but I couldn't hear them. When I shouted back, asking for help, ravens flew out from the shore, screaming and cawing. It ruined the peace, you know? But they didn't attack me, just held me hostage with the noise."

"I think I saw this on TV… How'd it end?"

"They shut up, I woke up."

Sae smirked. She glanced past Ren, likely at the election news running in the background. "Do you take meaning from your dreams?" she asked after a beat.

Ren snorted. "Not th—"

"Oh, good morning, Makoto. I've been chatting with your boyfriend—he's told me all about the day you have planned."

Ren twisted to turn in his chair, but he was stopped by a hand at his side. Makoto leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, squeezing his shoulder as she did so, then walked past him for the seat Sae had left. "No spoilers, please. Are you waiting on coffee, Ren?"

Awerfzmjnfdsfsafwerqwerasdfasdfsdqweriuupo—

"Ren? …Are you okay?"

Ren snapped out of his cheek-kissed trance, nodding emphatically to make up for the lost time. "Yes, yes. Great. Awesome. Perfect. Go, ready to? Shit, uh—Set go? No! I mean—"

"There he is," Sae muttered, laughing until her coffee machine beeped and ended her wait.

Makoto rolled her eyes. "Yes, I'm ready. Let's head out."


"Thank you again for the flowers," Makoto said, walking past a patch of the park's finest. Ren hated parting with the flowers when they left the apartment, but that was the nature of gifts. He needed to get used to that feeling. "Seriously, I love them… But I'm surprised."

This question was inevitable.

"We've never been much for gifts, aside from birthdays," Makoto added. "Where'd you get the idea?"

I hope bringing her flowers, or explaining my thought process to her, doesn't give her the same Crisis of Partnership I'm going through.

"I was thinking about it at Haru's birthday when she was going through that stack of presents… All that for one birthday, and I've never gotten you flowers for a date? I mean, Tsukasa bought flowers for Eiko."

"He bought a lot more for her than flowers, and we know why he was buying her those things," Makoto said. "I never needed the flowers. They're great, but it's never been about the gifts."

"Oh, I know, but dinner's always about the main course and we still order appetizers."

Makoto tugged the sleeve of Ren's jacket. "Fair comparison."

"And…" Ren breathed. The air was chilly, but it wasn't painful. Nicer clothes kept him warm; the cold that infiltrated the layers satisfied some part of Ren he didn't think about or put a name to. Walking through the park gave him the same satisfaction: the views, the air, the people, and the lack of. There was weightlessness. It lacked the burden of urban sprawl, embedded in the middle of Tokyo as it was. It reminded Ren of that one clean corner in a messy room. "I'm trying things out… As a boyfriend, I mean. Don't get me wrong, our relationship is great, but I want to be better."

"Where's this coming from?"

"Just, uh, insecurity, I guess. I don't know. We've been together for a while, right? I see other couples on the train and at school; guys in my position look more involved than I think I am. Sometimes, I… I'm just existing next to you. I mean, it's great—maybe the best thing ever—but I want to do more for you. I won't say I've been a lousy boyfriend." Ren hesitated. Speaking the idea into existence didn't send a chill down his spine like he thought it would. "But I've been a lazy boyfriend."

Walking on the dirt path grew difficult. Ren half-swayed in his step, finding himself ever-so-off from wherever he wanted to go. Makoto next to him, always more centered and direct, kept up her step and hooked her arm through his.

There we go… Much easier. Confessions make me dizzy.

"To be fair, most of the time we're together, we're short on time or tired from school and work."

That's a great point, but I may be immune to reasonable arguments.

"That's the thing, though: I'm tired, busy, and rushed, but I still want to give you more with the time we do get."

"Aw, Ren…"

"And those flowers… They're simple and easy, but they're a lot more than they seem, you know? They're a step to being not just a better boyfriend, but a better, more caring person in general." Using their locked arms, Makoto reigned him closer to her, leaning into him. The chilled air whispered to the half of Ren not shielded by her.

I think I like feeling cold. Her warmth is nice, too.

"I admire you for wanting to be more than the best boyfriend I've ever had."

"Well, thank you for—wait a second..."

Makoto laughed. "Seriously though, I know you think you have to improve, but you're a much better person than you think, Ren. Even before we were dating… When you let me stay in Junpei's apartment so Kaneshiro couldn't…" Breath hitched; Ren felt a heave against him. "You gave me a lot of trouble when we first met, mostly your sense of humor, but you were genuine. And caring." Another hesitating breath, but it wasn't choking on words like the previous; Makoto was steeling herself. "What I'm saying is that you shouldn't pretend like you were terrible all along… That's insulting to yourself, and to me as a judge of character."

She's right, and it helps a bit, but the feeling will never go away, I know it. There will always be self-loathing. I think part of the reason I consider my past self so terrible is because I can remember how miserable I was at the time, and I'm assuming it spewed from me. Now, I know I'm less harsh on myself and the world. Do I feel happier?

There was no snow in the park and no moisture hanging on dead tree branches, but they were still frozen for Ren. Only he and Makoto moved through the dreamland of the park, too cold to be crowded and too warm to be entirely inaccessible. Nature appealed to Ren as if it knew it had to set a moment that the couple would remember for the rest of their lives.

Yeah, I do.

"Know what, Makoto?" Ren thought of the train to Tokyo, the straight-line path he had from his detainment to his probation home in a monstrous city. The shift in perspective was dizzying. "You're so right."

"Thinking back on those times feels so strange…" Makoto's voice floated in the air with lots of images beneath it. "Like how scary it was to wait and wait while you were concussed. Then I concentrate and I remember those little moments in the apartment… And I can see us getting closer."

"Like when I stepped on Morgana trying to surprise you."

"And saying goodnight to each other."

Ren chuckled. "You know, thinking back, I wish I could tell myself to calm down—I was so damn nervous every time I talked to you."

"You were?"

"Yeah! You were the student council president, who happens to be very pretty, and you were staying in my apartment. Every word was chosen with the utmost care to make sure it wasn't weird, and that…" Ren gulped down his shame. "That made it weird."

"I was similar, I think. You were the host, you were coming off being assaulted, and you were caught in the conspiracy with me. I didn't want you to worry at all, especially about me."

Man, we were stupid. I still am, bu—hey! Cut that out.

"All that, and we ended up being worried and weird as shit… But I think we turned out alright."

"I think so, too."


"This is unbelievable."

"I know, I know."

"I mean, how did you get a reservation? This is one of the busiest places in the city."

Ren shrugged. "Busiest dinner places. Less people care about a scenic view of Tokyo if it's during the daytime, it doesn't scratch any of the urban sprawl itches." The answer left a lot of details behind. When Ren called the Tokyo SkyTree for lunch reservations, they were booked. When he called back with a deeper voice, "verifiable" credentials of being a community leader at one of Tokyo's most prestigious schools, and the kind of attitude people looked up to, they found room for his two-person date at noon.

Granted, they were stuffed in the corner close enough to the kitchen that Ren and Makoto could hear the labor that went into the food, but they were next to a window that went on forever—rows and columns of glorious concrete and metal, green squares and dark rivers separating the densest areas. "Sprawl" was inaccurate—"Cluster" resonated more.

I wouldn't call it beautiful like a nighttime view. Seeing all the buildings for what they are… It makes it incredible, and kinda sad. All these people jammed into this small area—an accomplishment, obviously, but I wonder if this is the best method for coexistence.

Ren's urban existentialism vanished when he looked back at Makoto, who was still captivated by the other side of the window. The light hit half of her face and shimmered in her bangs. With only her left side visible, her eye gleamed brighter than Ren had ever seen, more red than Ren ever imagined.

What great timing the weather has, picking one day in December for blue skies. This day is the last of its kind, isn't it?

"It's really amazing… Thank you for choosing this place."

They had yet to verify the quality of the SkyTree restaurant's food, but the view was enough. "No problem."

"Like the rest of today, I'm curious—how'd you choose the SkyTree out of all the great food spots there are?"

"Well…" It came on a whim on the Destiny Land ferris wheel, admiring the city view at night. Ren felt past memories of similar parameters stacking up next to the ferris wheel, sorted by which conversations with Makoto possessed the most intangible vibes. "I was thinking of past instances when we've had meaningful or important conversations, and I realized that they're all really, really similar. Eerily similar, actually."

"How so?"

"A lot of them are at night with a scenic, peaceful view. We start out saying a little less to each other because we're focused on, you know, how amazing the view is, then we open up to each other."

It feels like it's me more often, though. I bottle up my thoughts too much. I've gotten way, way better, but there will always be stuff hidden. Makoto deserves better for always being upfront and honest with me, so I'll keep working at it.

"Now that you say that…"

"Yep, everything comes flooding in. Iwatodai's bridge, Iwatodai's beach, Shujin's roof at the Culture Festival, the Odaiba ferris wheel, the Destiny Land ferris wheel… Cliches are drawn to us." Makoto nodded in agreement, so Ren brought closure to his point. "I decided to pick the opposite: lunchtime so high up that it's more humbling than scenic, and there's a shit load of people here."

"There's a lot of new ground being broken."

"Tons. This is like the start of a new chapter, you know? And an end to the last one."

"I agree—the new one is the chapter of exams, right?"

Makoto coyly smiled, making Ren do the same before he laughed. Months ago, that kind of humor from Makoto would have shocked him. "No, n—well yes, those are coming up quick, but this is kind of it for this year. We'll be so busy with exams, holidays, and that New Year's trip that this, today, won't happen again for a while."

"We'll have to make time."

"Gladly." Ren leaned forward. "Makoto, let's skip the Thursday of exams for a day in—"

"You're losing me." Both laughed, slowly quieting and fading into the restaurant's crowded ambiance. Makoto looked around; Ren tried to follow her gaze, but she spoke just as his eyes left the table. "What's the next chapter?"

"Hm?"

"What's next for us?"

"I… Don't know. I know I'll approach it entirely differently, and that we'll be even cooler than we are now." Ren ran his hand through his hair and grinned, making Makoto laugh at the fact that her boyfriend may have been the corniest person in Tokyo.

"Right…" Makoto said, still cooling down from Ren's display. "We'll end up where we end up."

"You know what I'm excited for?"

"What?"

"Next summer. I'll be coming back to Tokyo because what else would I do? I don't know how I'm doing that yet, but—"

"You'll stay with me, because where else would you go?"

Ren put his hands up and spoke as if there was an undeniable headline above his head. "Sae will be elated."

"Especially when you make coffee for her every morning," Makoto countered, teasing Ren that she could keep up with him.

I think that's my favorite thing about Makoto that's changed since we met: she has the confidence to be funny now. Granted, she's not as funny as someone who calls himself the Lord of GRAVY-esque Goodness so regularly that the irony is long gone, but she can go to battle and keep me on my toes. A lot of people don't even try to slip jokes into conversation.

Ren imagined the summer that waited for them in July. They would be reuniting after time apart—her after her first term of university, him after living with the most joyful, caring, and engaged parents on Earth.

That's gonna be tougher than ever. Even when we've gone through rough patches and drifted apart, they've been nowhere near as long as next Spring. Ugh.

But Summer… Ren hated the expression, but his imagined version was like a movie with the beaches always uncrowded, the weather always perfect, and Makoto always present. He knew the feeling well because he had it six months prior before June's final exams.

Look how that turned out. Summer had its moments, but that's not what I remember most… Lots and lots of hours unwillingly awake, Haru's family business, that vision of Yoshiro. I mean, the summer kicked off with Sugimura hanging himself off a building on TV—how's that for a reality check?

"I'll make sure it's better than the last one," Ren mumbled to himself, responding to his thoughts on autopilot, but Makoto picked up on it.

"What, Summer?"

"Oh, uh… Yeah. Instead of the stuff that happened last summer, we'll have some stress-free time to ourselves. No Prince, no hallucinations, no organized marriages—just us." Makoto had been smiling; Ren watched it slip away with the reminder of what they had pushed into the background. "Maybe on the beach. Friends may or may not be invited. Maybe we'll even bring Morgana too."

"Ren…"

Clearly, one joke isn't enough to correct the mood. Alright, Ren, reload. Get ready t—no, no. Hear her out.

"You know we need to worry about it."

"Trust me, I know. Yusuke went to Tae's last night."

Makoto frowned. "And?" Guilt stabbed Ren; he kept that to himself while GRAVY chattered about Christmas plans. They did know Yusuke planned on doing his trip, just not the specifics, nor that he would be unresponsive after.

Ren shook his head. "I texted him last night and this morning—silence." Makoto hummed, looking out the window and losing herself in scenarios. Ren wondered what she was searching for: a solution or a reason. "We'll get to him soon, don't worry. He always pops up, even when we don't have reason to talk to him."

"Which is why we should worry about why he hasn't said anything."

There's a very real possibility that he could still be tripping balls. "Life-changing journey" would be an understatement.

"I'm assuming that he's still asleep."

"It was very draining…" Makoto said distantly, unaware of how draining it had been to be with her during her hallucination. "Okay… Okay," she repeated, re-centering on Ren. "It's Yusuke: he'll know what to do."

Ren nodded, letting the conversation die. He waited with precise timing; the mood had to be forgotten before a new one could be instilled. The silence sickened him with the opportunity to pay attention to the real world. Conversations around him weren't light—election day, only a week away, made everyone anxious.

There's an easy solution to this: just look at Makoto.

"Alright, before we finally get around to looking at the menu, there's a big decision to be made."

Makoto set her arms on the table, carefully straight along the edge while her clasped hands rested at the center. "What is it?"

"Part Three of the Date to End All Dates will be chosen by you," Ren said, drawing a smile from Makoto. "Option one: matching tattoos. Option two: we play pool and the winner chooses the loser's career path."


"Sorry we couldn't fit tattoos and billiards into the schedule. Time is cruel."

"I forgive you."

Ren's apology was a joke, so he accepted Makoto's return as the same despite his joke being based on a truth he had yet to unpack. The date's end not being up to him opened the door for guilt to creep into his conscience.

The goal was the best date you've ever had with Makoto, and you're cutting it off early for Junpei.

He knew what would happen from the beginning, but at that moment, escorting Makoto from the subway station back to their apartment building, their inevitable parting got to him like an unscratchable itch. Anything less than a full day with Makoto failed his expectations for the day.

I'm sure she doesn't care about ending today like this—she'll always be the reasonable one.

Ren blamed his year of endings for the feeling that made his feet drag on the sidewalk. People walked around him, yet he refused to quickly bring himself and Makoto toward the end of their date. Tokyo surrounded Ren with abrupt endings chosen for him—his entire being there was an ending to his prior life.

This ending, though, Ren dreaded. It wasn't merely dropping Makoto off at home before he went to help Junpei; it was the last of its kind. Both would be too busy to dedicate full days to each other until the next year. Makoto would go to college. Ren would go home.

What is going on with me…? This hurts more than our time apart.

To Ren, the pieces came together for a new beginning for his relationship with Makoto, but he had to set the finished whole aside to focus on something entirely unrelated. He didn't know if the whole would be the same when he turned back to it, or if it would be there at all.

These things happen.

With that thought came solace. Endings were unavoidable, as Tokyo so consistently taught, and dreading them was a fool's game.

It's better to look forward to epilogues and sequels.

A block ahead, Ren saw the overhang that protected the entrance of their apartment building. Time was short. "You had fun today, right?" he said, eyes still trained on the destination.

"Yes… It was great."

"Really? It was kind of low-stakes for fun."

"Well, I had fun despite the inconsequentiality of eating lunch at the SkyTree. Thanks for that."

Ren laughed. "Next time, we'll do go-karting without seatbelts. How's that for stakes?"

"Perfect." Makoto's hand squeezed his, swinging their bond between them as they walked. "I don't think we'll have the energy for anything but walks in the park and lunch dates next year."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well… There will be a lot going on besides our relationship. Every date will require you to travel here, or me to there. And I'll have a lot of effort to give to university classes."

A question popped into Ren's head along with an insecurity: so close to the end, so little time left, could he afford to waste words with small talk?

If it's with Makoto, is it a waste?

"What are you gonna study?"

Makoto hummed. "A year ago, my answer was so thought out that I could tell you each stage of my career and what year I would earn which promotions. Now, it's different. I don't know if I want to pick my future like that," she said, snapping her fingers to produce the gone-in-an-instant sound. "It'll come to me, I just need to look for it."

"That's honestly a way better answer than saying something like, I dunno, biology?"

"What's wrong with biology?"

"Oh, come on. You know what's wrong with biology."

"I really don't… Do tell."

Ren looked up—the overhang shielded them from the uncharacteristic December sun. It was a shield, and it was a way out. "Well, we're here. It was fun while it lasted, right?" Leaving his mouth, the words sounded heavier, like they weighed more than every one-off joke he ever told.

"Don't say it like that." Stopped in front of the entrance, they carved an opening in the sidewalk's traffic, countless people going around them. They were bumped, but they did not budge. "It was perfect, and it'll never be anything less than that, okay?"

Yeah… Screw "fun while it lasted." It's not the end of the world, no need to be so mopey. When does fun even stop?

"Okay." Ren leaned in to kiss Makoto, giving up on the fickle sounds that were words. They never got the point across, but their sidewalk-impeding show of affection did, drawing annoyance and envy out of the many passersby. As inconvenient as they knew it was, they didn't care—they needed it. "I'll text you tonight, okay?"

Pulling away from him, Makoto nodded. "Okay."


"This… This is humiliating."

"Don't think of it like that."

"How can I not? A kid is coming with me to an alcoholic's support group…"

"Your friend, who happens to be in high school, is supporting you in your endeavor. You're complicating it; worrying about it too much."

"How do you know?"

"Because I did the same earlier today."

Shinjuku seemed to be the worst place to hold a support group for alcoholics, but Ren had no influence over such decisions, only an opinion.

Seems cruel to make them travel through fire to get there. Even worse, they've got to walk through it after…

Ren didn't like to imagine how Junpei felt. His guardian kept his eyes on the sidewalk, letting Ren lead them down a street without an end. That said, Ren did not know where they were going, only that they were on the right street. He counted on Junpei recognizing cracks in the pavement and taking the reins from there.

Free of any navigational duties, Ren could walk in a straight line and admire Shinjuku's evening. Advertised vices, so bright that they left spots in his eyes, blared at him, commanding that he return on his eighteenth birthday with a full wallet.

"This is it…" It was the one building on the block that didn't advertise, and that was the best kind of marketing. Barren, plain on the outside, and hosting anyone who had enough money to rent a conference room on the inside. "Last chance to back out…"

"Who of us are you trying to talk out of this?" Ren asked.

Junpei grumbled, looking up the steps. A woman, maybe Junpei's age, passed by them and entered without holding the door behind her.

"Agh… Come on." Junpei took off down the sidewalk. Ren chased after him, effortlessly catching up to Junpei's slight limp with his youthful speed-walking.

"Are you ditching it?! Junpei—"

"Relax, we're doing something better… Shoulda done it a long time ago."

"What?"

"I'm buying you a meal. Keep up," Junpei said as Ren slowed himself to not outpace his guardian.


"Let me set the scene. Me and the fellas are on the school trip to Kyoto, and our hotel has a hot spring. Wanting to take full advantage of what the place has to offer, we head down there one evening. Nobody's there but us…"

Ren and Junpei sat in the corner of a restaurant hidden in Shinjuku's crammed corner's, dim lighting and brick walls right out of a crime drama Ren had seen with Makoto. It was a place where business of the underworld took place—or so Ren's cinematic expectations told him.

Reality was simpler: Junpei knew the guy who owned the place, and he was one of few. No crowd, barely any staff, and the only background noise (besides clinking glasses from the nearby bar's few visitors) was jazz that whispered over distant speakers.

The food's not too bad, either. Then again, I'm not a picky eater. Anything from a restaurant is better than eighty-percent of my food.

"As we're shooting the shit, we start hearing the voices—girls. Turns out it was their hour for the hot spring and we were in there at the wrong time. Obviously, this was a mistake not made by me—Ryoji was responsible—but we were kinda fucked if we got caught, especially 'cause the girls who were there were our friends."

"Jeez… What'd you do?"

"Me? I can hold my breath for five minutes, so I hid underwater. Akihiko went—"

"Bullshit."

"What?"

"You can't hold your breath for thirty seconds. I'd bet money on that."

"I'd be careful making a bet like that. You'll wake up without your TV," Junpei said, laughing. "Anyway, I'm underwater, Ryoji is stuck between two rocks, and Akihiko… He's praying." He shook his head; there was a defined smirk, one that looked back fondly on years long gone. "You remember Akihiko from Iwatodai, right?"

"Silver hair, quiet?"

"That's the guy. The only person to make him talkative, nervous, and fearful? That was the girl we were dealing with. So we hear her and the rest doing the usual: towels, clothes, everything like that. Then they get in the water. Akihiko starts praying louder."

"Wait, how are you hearing this? I thought you were—"

"I am underwater, but my ears were trained for this. Trust me—it's a skill you develop when you're under for a long time. So the apocalypse is imminent, right, and all of us are starting to join in on Akihiko's praying. Mine's mental, of course, but I let up a few air bubbles to show solidarity."

Ren raised an eyebrow.

"But there goes Makoto… Chest up, hands tucked in pockets he didn't have, head hanging not because he was sad, but because he just did not care. He walks around that big ol' rock in the middle, says the most casual fucking 'Hey' you can think of, and walks out. He left us!"

"What'd the girls do to him?"

"They said 'Hi' back!"

"I'm assuming that you're raising your voice because you, Ryoji, and Akihiko weren't as lucky."

"No, we certainly weren't… We got executed."

"What, executed? What could—"

"Good stuff, good stuff…" Junpei used his napkin to wipe his mouth, and the conversation, clean. "It's nice to share things like that, right?" Ren sat up; he was more eager for the answer to his new questions than the previous ones. "We're laughing and talking about great people, not sobbing over tragedy…"

Oh, I see.

"Junpei," Ren said, "There's nothing wrong with going to that group, and there isn't a problem with skipping it. As long as you're upholding the lifestyle that you want to uphold, at least."

Junpei shook his head. Ren watched Junpei pick up his glass, staring down at it and hoping it would be something better than water. "You don't get it: there's nothing for me at those meetings. Nothing."

"That's just what you think. You have to commit to them to get anywhere."

"Ren…" Junpei set down the glass. The wanting look on his face vanished, letting Ren know that he had accomplished something—or Junpei had moved on to sadder thoughts. "I've got another story to tell you, and you're gonna believe it because I haven't had a drink all night."

That's the problem: I don't know sober Junpei. I know he means well, he always does, but can I trust what he says?

"Okay."

"All these people I talk about, everyone from Iwatodai… We were part of something special. Regular people get to keep living because of what we did." Junpei's past was fictitious to Ren, and the new vague details did not help. What Ren knew had been pieced together from the meetings and tidbits drunkenly shared with him, or gleaned from his time in Iwatodai.

I did forget a lot of Iwatodai, though. There were more concerning things going on than Junpei's past. I hate to say it, but back then, I didn't care about Junpei—maybe I even hated him. I remember seeing him pulling up next to Haru's van on the highway, dreading that the trip would be ruined by him being an idiot that showed up at the worst moments. Yet he didn't. He made Iwatodai a little more interesting.

What could Junpei have possibly gotten up to? Ren knew Junpei had past demons; he didn't know about any accomplishments or successes.

"I ain't gonna say too much because, well, it's less believable the more I talk. We were important, though. Real important. And I can assure you that there are way more layers to this place than you think," Junpei said, letting everything gravitate around that place he referred to. It wasn't the restaurant—it was the world. "Because of what we did, we're cursed. We're the only ones who can realize that there's a lot more to human existence than jobs, school, a house, a car, and skyscrapers. Most people are insignificant. I'm stuck knowing that I'm the opposite."

No wonder he wanted to skip the group—how could he say this?

Ren frowned. "Junpei, that's—"

"I've had nothing to drink."

"No, I believe you, but how can you be so cynical?" Ren asked. "Earth is huge and it has so much going on, most of which will never be influenced by the average person, and so what? Everyone's got a life, everyone's got choices that affect them."

"Problem is, I know about the biggest choice—I watched it happen. And I've been thinking about it ever since." Junpei eyed his water and Ren's stomach churned. "We fought hard, pushed ourselves past our limits, so that choice wouldn't be made… Yet here we are, and Makoto can't be with us. There's nothing as sudden as death, and you can't realize it until it happens to you, no choices or decisions involved. There's no seizing the moment because it's not your moment t, it never was. None of us are stronger than death."

He's not the first person with an existential drinking problem, though.

"There are others in the support group who've experienced loss. They did everything they could, and it wasn't enough. It's part of life."

Junpei sighed. Ren expected him to lift his hand, call the waiter, and order a drink on the spot, but Junpei's head stayed low and defeated. "That's the problem. My friends and I have more insight than anyone, but we're subjected to the same lives as everyone else. Jobs, school, shelter, transportation, family, friends, gambling, drugs, alcohol… None of it is as meaningful as what we did when we were sixteen, seventeen years old, and nothing in thousands of years of history is as significant. There isn't a support group for this kind of thinking."

It wasn't arrogance. Ren watched Junpei loiter in defeat, too afraid to look at his glass in case the waiter read in his mind. Junpei was genuinely lost in loneliness that Ren, nor anyone else, could understand.

What better reason is there to have a drink?

"I've felt that way before." Junpei looked up at Ren without enough energy to even raise an eyebrow or object to the relating. "The Prince of Tokyo… I'm stuck in someone else's story. My friends aren't, no one else is being targeted like I am, and I don't know what's going to happen because, again, it's not my story."

"The Prince?"

"Yeah, the guy leaving the calling cards claiming responsibility for the major political deaths this year?" Junpei shook his head. He must've been blissfully unaware in a bar for each newsroom meltdown, Ren assumed. "Well… There are thin lanes to trace between me and each victim. And the last calling card, how he announces his victims… It was signed with my name, but I'm the only one with a copy."

"How strange is the world we live in, huh?" Junpei chuckled. "My weird shit is in the past, so I've got an empty plate—I'm happy to help. And I might just know someone who could make a real difference for you."

"Who?"

"Only the president of the Kirijo Group. Whatever this Prince bullshit is, it's breakfast to her. She'll take care of it like that," Junpei said, snapping his fingers in a click that rang out through the silent restaurant. "There one day, gone the next."

"Uh, wow…. Thank you. I'd appreciate that."

Junpei waved a hand and dismissed the nation. "Nah, it's nothing. I owe you a lot of favors and this is an easy start."

"What for?"

"Not despising me."


The simplest social interaction of Ren's took no effort: sit in silence and don't disturb others. Already, there was too much noise. Occasional sneezes, the droning of the twenty-four-seven news cycle on the mini-TV, and the violent roar of the train on it's tracks, metal clicking every second so long as the train stayed its course, reminding Ren that it didn't take much for routine normality to be ripped to shreds.

A little morbid for how nice today was… There are better things to think about. Doom and gloom can wait for exam week, why not enjoy how perfect things went?

After Junpei had paid for the nicest dinner Ren had since his incarceration earlier in the year, they parted at the train station, Ren going to Shibuya and Junpei staying back in Shinjuku.

I don't think he stayed to drink. I hope he didn't stay to drink… But that'd be tough not to do after tonight. It's his one coping mechanism, at least that I know of, and he shared enough to make anyone uncomfortable. Skipping the meeting didn't help.

Still, Ren left Junpei in Shinjuku with newfound trust in place. Something had changed between them when Junpei closed the tab and promised a sequential dinner with an accompanying invite to Makoto, all courtesy of Junpei's wallet. Junpei referred to it as a favor—Ren thought of it as something to look forward to.

For the time being, there was nothing on the horizon, only going home to his apartment, crossing through the door, and passing out the moment he hit the bed.

Early mornings lead to early nights.

Alas, reaching the destination was not up to him. The train took its time without influence from Ren. There would be stops and waits, all of which could not be altered by Ren's decisions. Getting to his apartment was not up to him, in a sense, and all the passengers shared the burden, trapped in the hurtling metal husk until it stopped and told them where they were.

Thus, they waited silently; some watched the news, some scrolled their phones, some slept. More than ever, the mini-TV drew eyes to a broadcast of the day's election-related news: Masayoshi Shido's rally outside a police precinct.

I hate to compliment the guy that changed my life, for better and for worse, but it's a smart move to garner interest over reforming law enforcement. People were pissed over Kaneshiro killing himself while detained, and the rest of the Prince's actions have made everything worse.

With Ren as one of the many silent observers of the mini-TV, there came an unspoken bond of knowledge between them. Watching the broadcast, processing the overwhelming poll numbers on the screen, led them all to the same fact: the world was about to change.

The only part of the change that is up for debate is when. Election day is the obvious one, but it can't be that simple. Change doesn't start and stop in one single moment—it takes time and it can't have a destination.

Ren knew that his train commutes would never die, but the feeling that the world around him wouldn't be the same made him anxious. He thought of the train and the screaming metal metal around him.

It stopped.

Off the train, up the steps, and into the crisp air—Ren had never been colder in all his time in Tokyo. The extra layers he wore weren't enough for his fingertips to tingle and his face to slightly burn. He had to breathe steam to know that there was still heat in his body because the adjustment in temperature was so jarring.

The cold wasn't so bad, though. With it came the first snow of the year, closing the day that had nothing but perfect weather. The falling snow stopped the pedestrian traffic on the sidewalk as all kinds of people stopped to catch the bit of frozen moisture that signaled the true change of seasons.

Ren kept walking, though.

I'm happy to just admire the snow… And it's cold as shit. I'll die if I stop moving.

Without the train shuttering around him, the news targeting him, and his journey being done for him, Ren warmed up to the evening.

Today was great. I don't know if it could have been better. I messed things up at times, I told jokes that weren't that funny, and I left Makoto behind for Junpei, but I wouldn't do a thing differently. It's… It's a strange feeling being satisfied with how it went. I'll thank Makoto for that. Usually, I feel like I'm just lucky that I get to date her… Not today. No luck involved; I'm just happy to see her and that she feels the same way about me.

He couldn't wait to do it again.

Outside his thoughts, the world raced past. Snow kept falling so pedestrians got back to their treks, stuck on the conveyor belt of sidewalk traffic until they were next to their destination. Neon advertisements tried to sell happiness to Ren without knowing what made him happy. Cars politely waited for each other without honking. Ren wondered how his surroundings could ever change when everything was so normal, but the feeling ate away at him. Stuck in the flow of people endlessly walking in one direction, he seemingly never left the subway train.

Up ahead, the apartment building waited for him. He could still see the memory of Makoto next to him when he dropped her off. There was time in the evening to invite her over and pick up where their day left off, but Ren hesitated from taking his phone out of his pocket, even with his promise to text her.

I'm kinda tired, but still satisfied with how the date ended. There's always tomorrow, so…

The overhang in front of the apartment building took snow away from Ren; he didn't care. Through the rotating doors and into the warmth of the lobby, there was a new perspective on Tokyo and Ren's existence in it. There—

"Good evening, Amamiya-kun. How was your day?" said the lobby attendant.

So immediate was the welcome that it startled Ren. "Pretty damn good, honestly."

"That is great to hear, sir. Is there anything I can help you with?"

Ren stopped walking toward the elevator, taking the time to look at the lobby attendant and assess what was truly happening. Nothing undermined the kind welcome, no snide gaze told Ren that he was unwelcome, no scoff scored the words spoken.

Is this it? Mutual respect?

"Nope… Just, uh, let things happen as they normally do. Everything's perfect right now."

"Understood, Amamiya-san. Enjoy the rest of your night."

How could I not?

Ren nodded thanks, then continued to the elevator. The lobby—always empty, always clean—yielded nothing new to the teen who had been there for two-hundred forty-seven days. Generic art, a fireplace, the table where he and Makoto had a petty squabble centered around their mutual ownership of 'The Complete Adventures of Teddy the Bear, Volume 1'.

Nothing worse than remembering how I acted back then… I'd give up a lot to go back and punch myself in the face. I'd give more to kick myself in the shin.

There was no wait for the elevator, as there never was. The apartment building had always accommodated Ren with timely functions. Never crowded, never busy. Why would there be an end to that?

Inside and on the way up, the elevator hummed against Ren's back. His head's resting place was not comfortable, all polished wood spliced with metal. It pressed into his skull in rhythm with the pulse of impending sleep. Waking up early was enough to wipe Ren out for days on its own—adding thousands of extra steps to his average count would have him comatose.

Alas, an elevator was not ideal for sleeping.

Harder than the walls was the fact of potential failure—machinery couldn't work a hundred percent of the time. Someone was bound to get on that elevator and drop dozens of stories, betrayed by cables in a fall to their doom. That risk, somehow, was less concerning than climbing dozens of stairs.

Well, there is the risk of falling down the stairs.

The elevator continued to hum, shaking each time it passed a floor. Ren counted the shakes—one, five, ten, and so on. His dazed, exhausted mind could have been skipping numbers, but he passed his floor with no change in the elevator's upward movement. Up and up it would go until it happened upon an ending, or an ending happened upon it.

Minutes hummed.

At what point do I consider that the elevator did drop, I died, and this is one last sweet psychedelic release in my brain? Say… Maybe an hour in the elevator? Yeah. That'd be enough to verify that I'm in brain chemical purgatory.

The desire to sleep left as Ren focused on the ascension. The elevator's digital floor tracker looped digits, showing nothing but zeroes, eights, and fractured numbers.

This isn't my first rodeo. Haru? Haru, are you there? Fetch the axe, I'm ready to be executed.

Yet there had been no mystery concoction, no visit to Takemi's clinic. Unless he had a twentieth-century internet download speed on the reaction to his previous attempt at a clinic trial, there was no explanation for the infinite climbing he found himself stuck in.

Ren stared at the doors across from him, tracing the line of separation. Perfectly straight and satisfyingly vertical.

Anything else would be panic-inducing.

In that pitch black line, right at its base, blue sprouted, growing from the crack into symmetrical wings, white blue glowing on the golden elevator doors. Ren imagined reaching out and cupping the wings in his hands, but the thought never made it to his muscles.

The blue fully emerged from the dark line: a butterfly, bright and sporadic, fluttering its wings just to end up in a different spot on the elevator door. Ren watched it float, hovering until the inevitable drop, then the next beating of its wings. Unlike the elevator, it obeyed the laws of physics.

Suddenly, it sprung from the door, clumsily fluttering through the air right at Ren. He didn't shy away, nor did he think he could. Whatever state he was in, his body had been left behind, trapped to rest against the wall until the elevator stopped.

Your memory isn't that terrible. You've seen this before.

This time, though, Ren heard no voices worthy of existential crises—just humming machinery that kept him from that fatal fall.

Why now?

The butterfly's wings stuttered as it landed on his shoulder, folding them together and claiming the landing spot as home for the next minute. Ren was grateful for the new ally in the fight against GRAVY's enemies, of course, but he wasn't sure of the contribution being received.

It's more than a butterfly… I know that, at least.

The elevator dinged and stopped, jumping Ren out of his trance. He turned his head to scan his shoulder: no butterfly. The doors slid open, metal against metal, and the same old hallway to his apartment faced him. Nothing abnormal had happened, seemingly.

Like waking up from a dream.

Ren stepped out, stretching his arms in every direction to make sure they still worked. His gait had no missteps and his muscles weren't stiff—no evidence of how trapped in time he had been. A lot of disbelief would have to be suspended when he told his friends about the ride up the elevator.

He smiled at the imagined reactions as he walked down the hall, passing doors that belonged to his neighbors.

"I'm stressing about exams, and you're frolicking with some magical effin' butterflies?! Man, the Hell is with you?!" Ah, Ryuji… If only words were enough to describe what happened.

Just before he stopped at his door, Ren picked the key from the usual pocket, so steeped in routine that the key practically put itself in the lock. He twisted the—

"Not one move, Amamiya."

Ren stopped; cold, sharp metal pressed across his neck, numbing every nerve that wasn't in imminent danger. His heart beat against the knife at his throat.

"Take the key out. Slowly," said his captor. "I'd tell you to be more careful on a late night like this... But it doesn't matter for you. Not anymore."