Persona 5: Daywatch

Saturday, 3 September 2016
Evening
Yongen-Jaya Station

Ryuji trudged out of the train with Futaba in tow, clinging to his arm as if afraid she'd get sucked into the sky and die without him. Most of the other passengers disembarking at this station headed for the bus station or other paths, leaving him and the hacker alone to slip into the alley. She relaxed but didn't release her iron grip on his wrist as they left the station's crowd behind. He decided not to complain – she was surprisingly strong in the Metaverse, even if she relied on her Persona almost all the time, but she was scary as fuck out of it if she could read texts they hadn't even sent.

Ahead, he could just make out Akira and the class president walking past Leblanc together. "…haven't decided what I'm going to say about Shiho."

Makoto gave a small nod, standing so close to him they were shoulder-to-shoulder. "I thought you and her worked everything out after we settled down Mishima-kun's Shadow."

A rush of air passed Akira's lips. "In regards to razor blades, yes." He crossed his arms. "You and I like being prepared, it's why we read and study. But we focus on the things we think are obvious, we both have a blind spot for things we think are 'unnecessary'." He kicked a pebble. "Up until I came here, I thought that was love and dating because I never thought I'd have the opportunity."

She stepped back just enough to scan him in that 'student president dissecting a puzzle' way. "But you like spending time with people. It's not just Hifumi, you light up when Ann or Ryuji invites you out to something. You even came with me for Obon despite not being Buddhist."

Akira gave a nervous shrug, his eyes down. "When being alone was all I knew, tolerating it was the only thing I could do. Now that I know there's another way to live…"

Ryuji bulled straight in and slung an arm around the transfer student's shoulder. "That's why we're gonna live like that. You ain't on your own no more. You're as stuck with us as we're stuck with you."

Futaba punched the runner in the back and inserted herself between the transfer student and president, jumping and grabbing his arm as if it was a giant rope swing. "Yeah!"

When Akira collapsed to the ground, the runner offered him a hand up. "That knight's angel fought off two of our Personas at once, and it hit hard." He accepted a hand up from the runner and hacker, but turned his focus back to the president. "You were fighting the guy mano a mano. How're you?"

Makoto gave a brief nod to the hacker. "Marcus took care of most of my injuries." She led the remaining walk to Takemi's clinic, where Doc put them through the guilt ringer for being reckless, and prescribed rest and stretches.

While the transfer student settled the bill, Ryuji headed for the door only for it to bang open against his hand. A man in a disheveled button-down shirt rushed in, holding a small girl. He skidded to a stop with the heavy, erratic steps of someone who'd been running for longer than his body could quite keep up.

While disentangling from the hacker, Makoto looked over the man and his daughter. "What's wrong, sir?"

The panting man whirled, sweat beading on his face. "My daughter, she can't breathe!"

The girl in his arms wasn't blue-lipped like when Yamato got stung by a bee and had to be carted off mid-meet, but her eyes were zoned out and she seemed as lethargic as runners suffering heat stroke. Whatever it was couldn't be good. He banged his fist on the closed window to the office. "Doc! We got a sick girl out here!"

Still hiding behind the class president, Futaba peered out in morbid fascination. "What's wrong?"

The inner lobby door opened and Doc poked her head out, her eyes searching out the hacker for a beat before continuing to the man carrying the younger girl.

Makoto volunteered, "She's suffering some kind of respiratory distress."

Takemi's eyes locked onto the man. "Inside. I'll check the oxygen." Curious, when she forgot to close the door, the runner poked his head inside where the acrobatic runner hopped out of their way. She cursed. "Oxygen's depleted. You remember seeing the spare?"

His eyes widened for a beat. "Upstairs!" He glanced at the runner still standing in the doorway. "C'mon, help me carry it."

Ryuji nodded and dashed after the transfer student to the stairwell at the back of the clinic and up the stairs three at a time. The first door hung open, mice squeaking in cages with heavy ventilation tubing and the sound of whirring fans. The other student shoved open the next, to a room with a foam-plastic mattress raised bed. Two green-topped silver canisters leaned against the wall next to it. The students picked one up, maneuvering it downstairs to the exam room where Doc questioned the father, her calligraphy strokes tip-tapping on her clipboard.

Ryuji couldn't help but notice the girl's breaths came in thin, raspy spurts as Doc fitted the mask over her.

"…diagnosed her with bronchitis, but the medicine hasn't been working at all. When she came home from school today, I hoped it was just a coughing fit, but it went on for hours," the man in a rumpled button-down shirt exclaimed, patting a handkerchief against his face. "Her fever's even higher than normal, and I haven't been able to get her to eat for three days."

"Appetite?" Takemi asked.

"Nothing, not for five… six days. I normally have to stop her from snacking, but she's been getting thinner."

Takemi's lips pursed. "If it's been to the degree of losing weight, that's definitely not good. This is just a neighborhood clinic, where have you been taking her?"

"A university hospital in east Shinjuku." He patted himself a few more times, breath still coming with a little effort. "Yodobashi University Hospital."

Akira's jaw tightened, but he didn't say anything.

The girl's father let out a rough breath. "The doctor performs exams like he's on an assembly line. I guess that's what you have to do when you're the most in-demand medical director in Shinjuku, but even when he delegated our appointment to one of his junior doctors they said it was just bronchitis." He clasped his hands. "Please, I heard this place sells medicine that can't be found anywhere else. I'll pay you anything if you cure my daughter."

Akira stood back. "If anybody can help, it would be Doctor Takemi."

A frown passed over Takemi-sensei's face as she turned a cold glare at the transfer student. "Don't promise things of other people. In fact, make yourself useful if you're going to be here. Give me the phone."

Returning a mild frown of his own, Akira plucked the cordless phone from its charging station on top of the desk and handed it over.

Takemi dialed and a tense silence passed over the exam room before a woman's voice answered. Takemi sat straighter. "Uehara-san? Is Doctor Schweitzer there? There's something I need to ask about a case in last month's medical journal." A few moments of listening and clipped questions by the doctor passed before Takemi said, "Guess the ones in stock will have to do." She hung up and handed the phone back to Akira, then snapped orders at both students.

Late Evening
Yongen, Takemi Medical Clinic

Ryuji stepped back into the clinic, rubbing a hand at his side. The girl's father waited a couple seats in, knee bouncing in nervousness in very much the same way Ryuji would when time wouldn't pass fast enough.

Akira and Makoto both looked into something on their phones, but their conversation hushed when they noticed him step inside. The president stood and slipped her phone into the pocket on her black skirt. "How's Futaba-chan?"

Ryuji gave a smirk at the transfer student still in long sleeves. He wasn't the only one who could sling a joke. "Oh, you know. She insisted on a glass of milk and bedtime story before tucking her in."

Makoto rolled her eyes as the transfer student chuckled.

Before he could carry on, the exam room door opened and Doc stepped out, the girl in a pinkish shirt holding her hand.

The father jumped from his chair next to the student president, and sank to his knees in front of the girl as the others circled behind. "Inori-chan!"

She stumbled into his outstretched arms. "I can breathe again, Papa! It's so easy now…" her words morphed into a yawn. Her father hugged her tight.

The moment tugged at Ryuji's heartstrings and he elbowed the transfer student. "That's the kinda pop we'll be some day, right?"

Akira shot straight, his eyes wide as dinner plates.

Makoto chuckled at his continuing nervousness. "You do try to be mindful and empathetic."

Doc rolled her eyes and headed off any further jokes. "It's a viral infection compounded by your family history of respiratory weakness. No surprise that most doctors wouldn't have detected it. And she's not yet fully recovered. Depending on how deep the infection got, it could take weeks to fully clear out. This is just a suppression of symptoms. She'll need to take it easy for at least a couple weeks and we'll adjust as her condition improves." She stood, her clipboard in one hand. "That'll be one million yen."

Now the father's eyes bulged. "That's outrageous!"

Ryuji nodded. "For real! Even failed states don't gouge peeps that hard for hospital visits."

Akira closed his shiritori game. "You agreed earlier," he pointed out as if it was in any way reasonable. Dude could deliver a joke like no straight man Ryuji'd ever seen.

Takemi swatted him with her clipboard. "Zip it."

The man hanged his head and sighed. "I… did agree. Do you take credit cards? I can go withdraw cash from a—"

Doc's eyes widened. "Wait, you'll actually pay?"

The father nodded.

It took a few more moments for Doc to process things. Her expression settled back into that 'yeah, like I really care'. "So that medical director… Was it Medical Chief of Staff Oyamada?"

The guy nodded with a measure of relief in his face. "Of course you'd know of him. I'm sure doctors all over Tokyo know him."

She stood a bit straighter, and that self-satisfied smile resembled Akira's just a little too much for the runner. "In that case… consider today free of charge."

The runner wasn't sure whether the sound of a brain flipping upside down was him or the father, but the latter spoke, "F-free?"

A rather Makoto-esque giggle floated out of the doctor.

Akira shot her a wary look, one eyebrow arched from under his glasses. "You seem pleased."

Doc hid her cat-that-ate-the-canary smile behind her clipboard. "There's a satisfaction in healing his patient without his permission."

The father picked up the girl rubbing an eye with a fist. "So… are these children your assistants? They don't even look college aged."

Makoto gave a cheshire grin of her own and tapped the transfer student with an elbow. "We're just patients, but he is studying to become a doctor."

Takemi's eyebrows quirked up. "Are you now?"

Akira blushed and rubbed the back of his head. "Oh, I'm nowhere close to being a chiropractor yet."

Clutching her father's shirt shoulders, the girl turned around. "Doctor? Can I go back to school tomorrow?"

Takemi's patience may have been practiced, but she made it look good. "Not until you're back to eating again. We don't want you coughing until you're too tired to breathe, do we? You need to regain your strength or else the next dust might have another virus that gets into your lungs. Rest up and eat when your tummy's ready for food, okay?"

She slumped against her father's head. "O-o-o-kay."

The girl's father bowed the little he could with his girl still in his arms. "Th-thank you so much, Doctor. I'll do everything I can to help her get better before our next appointment. Let's get you to bed, Inori-chan."

He departed and a beat passed before Doc turned on the transfer student. "So, are you seriously looking at a career in physical therapy?"

Makoto nodded. "Oh, yes. He's already got some effective tricks to help deal with fatigue through spinal decompression."

"It's no big deal," he said, taking a step back.

Ryuji punched the transfer student's shoulder. "Dude, best I got to look forward to is teachin' gym or somethin'. Just 'cause I ain't bookin' you for appointments don't mean I can't tell you know your stuff. I'm always first one out 'cause I live way out in Setagaya."

Takemi's lips were still quirked upwards. "So besides mister 'gym or something', are the rest of you looking at medicine too?"

Makoto's gaze fell, looking even more like a smoldering fire at this angle to the light. "I… don't really know what I'm going to do."

Akira slipped his hands in his pockets. "Ann's probably going to stick with modeling. Shiho's going into finances. Mishima hasn't said, but he can't put down computers – he's probably going into software with Futaba. Hifumi's going to go back into shogi. Yusuke's going to paint his whole life, he just needs to find something to sustain himself when his paintings aren't selling themselves." A frown deepened over his face. "We're all going in different directions when we graduate."

Takemi bopped him on the face with her little clipboard. "That's not necessarily a bad thing. You're going a different direction than your father. Anyway, wherever you kids go, I'm staying here until I finish developing my treatment for her."

"Yeah!" Ryuji cheered into the room which needed a pick-me-up big time.

The faint smirk on Doc's lips faded. "Just promise me… don't die, okay?"

Akira flashed a very Joker-esque smirk. "That is generally the plan."

Sunday, 4 September 2016
Morning
Kanda Catholic Church

Akira thanked Father Sugiyama and stepped out of the confessional booth. A kind of quiet that only existed deep in nature or consecrated spaces held in the sanctuary as he stepped out so the next parishioner could enter. He'd taken more than enough of the priest's time. Despite knowing the conversation which had to happen, he couldn't stop himself from pausing in the glistening light of one of the stained-glass windows. A small handful of the faithful lingered, knelt in prayer.

Hifumi sat just two pews back from the front, her eyes down in her Bible. She sat at the end of the pew, where he would have no choice but to pass right by her. He thought he saw a flicker of those beautiful green eyes as he stepped out, but she sat there with her back straight and eyes on the page as if to remind him that while he couldn't escape, she also wasn't pressing him before he was ready.

A tremble passed through him as he saw yet again he could never deserve someone like her. Then he clenched his gloved fists and paced straight for her. "H-Hifumi?"

With one understated, graceful motion she tugged down the ribbon through the pages to mark her place and closed her Bible. Those green eyes turned on him with expectation, but the rest of her face wore an impassive mask. "Akira-kun. Did you want to talk here?"

No chance of dodging that particular bullet, then. She did deserve answers, Akira just wasn't sure he even had them despite seeking consultation with Father Sugiyama after confession. The Bible was pretty clear in its condemnation of lying and 'stealing from another man's house' even if that was a patriarchal way of saying 'not going after his wife', but had less to say on how to sort out divided affections. Jacob married two women but largely ignored Leah, and Paul's letters to Corinth gave little help beyond a general condemnation of polygamy. Akira scratched his neck, his gloves feeling uncomfortable for the first time in a while. "Um… Anywhere more private? This only involves you and me, and I'd like to keep it that way."

She nodded in silence, slipped her purse on her shoulder, and led him through the hallways to the humble meditation courtyard.

Akira sat down at the lone concrete bench framed against a backdrop of a narrow bamboo planter. Even though Hifumi sat down at the same bench, her motions graceful and posture regal, he felt as if he faced a tribunal. The way the late-morning sun shone down onto her long, beautiful hair just made her seem that much more intimidating.

She let another beat pass before she folded her hands together on her lap. "So, about Shiho… who was she?"

Swallowing, Akira took a few moments to collect his thoughts and try to keep the heat from his face. Might as well go through things in the order he learned about them. "Friend of Ann's. I met her my first day at Shujin. My record had been leaked so it seemed like every single member of the student body was talking about me behind my back. I just spent my first year of high school at Inuri under my old man. Stopped his drunk patron trying to molest a woman at the side of the road and got shafted with a kangaroo court as a reward. All I wanted was a clean break, like what Big K gave me."

Her pretty green gaze held on him, filing every detail. "Big K?"

Akira shuffled in his seat. "Amagi Kanji. Big guy, but really chill even when I'd started a fire in his kitchen trying to get something to eat. Helped me out when I was attending Tanizaki."

Those green orbs held on him through several seconds of silence. "Sounds like a tale of its own. So your first day at Shujin?"

"Right," he said, rubbing his neck as heat bloomed across his face. And to think he thought things were weird that day. "I went to the cafeteria and there weren't a lot of open seats, plus people were talking about me as if I'd been causing trouble there the whole previous year. I mean, I had gotten into a lot of trouble under my old man, but Shujin was supposed to be a clean break." He straightened his glasses. "God, I needed a break. That was the only reason I accepted Officer Ichijou's proposal to come to Tokyo. People were talking crap about Ann too, so I can understand why she wouldn't have been so welcoming even though we were in the same class. Shiho picked up all that slack and then some. She's just one of those people who naturally wants to help people out."

Hifumi studied his face for a few moments, her eyes lingering on what he was certain was his deepening blush. "So you two bonded?"

Akira scratched his neck, unable to quite meet her green gaze. "After hearing people talk about all the bodies I'd supposedly hidden in alleys all day, suddenly here was someone talking to me like a normal person. Being humble about her own participation in sports, even though she was the girl's volleyball team starter. Even asking me what I was going to do with my life." He forced his hand down. "To be honest, I was kind of playing a role, the kind of thing Father Motoori told me I could be, but I said I was going to be a chiropractor. That my family was in medicine and I wanted to do something that could directly help people." A beat passed, and he made the stupid decision to continue, "She was the first girl to smile at me."

The silence which had been oppressive fast became choking.

Hifumi clasped her hands on her lap. "Do you still think of her?"

"All the time," he blurted, feeling himself perspire under her steady gaze. "She almost died."

Hifumi's eyes widened. "She…? I think I'm missing something important." When he still couldn't meet her gaze, she took his chin in hand and pulled his face up at hers. "How did it happen?"

Akira swallowed as she retracted her hand, but found himself transfixed. He detailed his first days at Shujin, his stumble into Kamoshida's castle with Ann, Shiho's jump, and his subsequent quest for vengeance. Whether it was her sedate manner in general or the cool reception, it just seemed to highlight how childish and selfish his start into the Metaverse was. He hoped that explaining events to their celebration at the Wilton Hotel buffet and reversing the leadership nomination onto Morgana would have cracked it, but long, tense minutes passed as he sweat under his Sunday best.

The fogged glass door swung open and Ouzawa-san stepped out with a pair of parishioners in black behind her. The bonk of the shishi odoshi in the corner broke the tense silence and she said, "Oh. Hello, children. Praying for the dearly departed?"

Gears still whirling behind her green gaze, Hifumi gave a brief but polite bow. "Please excuse us." She slipped around the Parish council secretary.

Despite the heat of the summer, Akira felt a cold creeping down his spine as he followed close behind the shogi maestra. When she kept walking, he grabbed her hand mere steps from the sanctuary's side door. "Please, Hifumi. Tell me—"

"I'm terrified," she said, reversing the hand grab to clench his. "I want to be the one you dream of deep at night. I want to be the one you hold and dine and indulge, I don't want to share you with somebody else who'll always be first in your heart. Shiho died for you."

"Share me?" Akira felt like the hall spun. "Because I had one girl who smiled when I needed it, and made me feel like I was floating? Which boy am I to you, four? Five?"

Her grip on him tightened, painful. "Why were boys who were never cherished friends important? They abandoned me! They were never there when I needed them. I thought you were going to be the one who was!"

Others called him useless or selfish. Hifumi was the smartest, most clear-sighted person he knew. To hear those kinds of words from her hurt a hundred times more. Fists clenching, he jerked his hand from hers. It was like everything revolved around her since meeting her. "What do you think I've been doing?"

A sharpness gleamed in her narrowed eyes. "At least they were interested in me even if it was just my body." She cast his hand away. "When have you ever taken the initiative? When have you even returned my affection? Aren't you just holding back because you think you're saving something special for Shiho? Was everything you've done just an attempt to score some sort of balance for her?"

His mouth drifted open, then clicked shut. "Was saving your mother chopped liver?"

"Saving?" Her hands clamped on her hips. "The police took her away and I may never see her again. Papa is turning into a vegetable draining the household savings, the rest of the family won't speak to us since the fight about the burglar, and you think I should thank you and keep throwing myself at you while you pine for Shiho? Are you completely unaware of the look on your face as you talked about her? You've never gone so misty-eyed!"

"At least she didn't put strings on everything!" He snapped. "She even had a boyfriend and was still willing to show me unconditional support. I thought you were the one person who would always show me kindness."

Hifumi stood nose to nose against him. "And I thought you were the one person who'd always be on my side! Someone all for myself! Who'd love me like I love him. But you fell in love with Shiho and never moved on! I was just the substitute to you!"

The door opened before the transfer student could pick up his jaw. Father Sugiyama stepped out of the sanctuary, stole folded in hand. "Is something the matter, children? The House of God is a place of reconciliation."

Pulsing with adrenaline and not ready for somebody else to enter the conversation, Akira barked, "Shut up!"

"Don't talk that way to the Father who confirmed me!" she snapped at him.

"Oh, like you're being so mature about this!" Akira shot back.

Father Sugiyama held up his hands. "There's no need to raise your voices here in the church hall."

"Then I won't bother you!" she shouted, her glower returning to the transfer student. "I'm leaving."

Pulsing with adrenaline, he snapped back "Fine!" and did his best to tower over her.

Against any other girl, she might have cowered. He knew well enough he could be intimidating when he wanted to be. Hifumi stood her ground, the air almost crackling between their glares, then she turned on the ball of her foot and strode out with regal disdain. Already with the last word, he couldn't think of anything else to say.

"A moment, Ouzawa-san," Father Sugiyama said to the late-middle-aged woman coming from the meditation courtyard. "My son, perhaps you had best step outside for a long walk. I know the common advice is not to let the sun set on an argument, but cooler heads prevail."

His energy ebbing, Akira opened his mouth to retort but couldn't think of anything to shout back at the priest. He closed, then opened his mouth again and still nothing. Feeling like a fool, he shuffled off. The Saints in the stained glass never looked so accusing. Outside, he saw no sign of Hifumi. The sun beat down on him and the past five minutes at last started to sink in. He fumbled for his phone, but couldn't take the last step of calling her. His blood still pulsed too hot in his veins.

Ryuji would over-simplify and probably make some crude joke which might result in punches thrown. Akira didn't feel ready to bring romantic problems up with him. Yusuke seemed too… out there, maybe too unsullied by worldliness, to seek out for a problem like this. Makoto was brilliant but never mentioned so much as a date for experience. Ah, that's who.

He took shelter under a meager tree just off the sidewalk and waited until she picked up. "Ann? I-I think I really screwed up."

He heard a couple light jars clink and tumble on her side of the line before a chair scoot. "Where do you want me to meet you?"

Sunday, 4 September 2016
Afternoon
Shibuya, Big Bang Burger

Ann sat across the table tucked in the corner of the fast-food venue, small sodas on the table almost untouched despite her insistence she get him something. If circumstances had been different and she'd been the one to ask him for a safe place, he would have done the same thing. Something about attending the body so the mind could be healed or something like that. Akira's eyes were bloodshot and there was a redness around them from frequent rubbing that must have started well before meeting her in the underground walkway. His eyes would flick to the other patrons on occasion, and he'd hunch. He must have felt something from every one of them. He was one of those people who connected with people without even thinking about it.

As he detailed the morning and fight with Hifumi, Ann wondered how somebody who felt something for others like him could have lasted this long. He was already beating himself up over the fight.

Ann clenched a napkin in her fist, trying to repress the urge to slap Hifumi or tell him he should have. Akira may have bumbled a few things, but Hifumi had to know how crazy he was for her. She was too smart to have made such a blunder as to get pissy over Akira having feelings over the angel of Shujin when she had a trail of boyfriends in her own past.

Ann let the napkin go and pressed it flat, then breathed in and out like Makoto taught to help steady herself. Akira needed someone who wouldn't go to pieces on him. "Something like this was bound to happen. Even Shiho and Yuu-kun fought, that's just something that happens when you get closer and spend more time with someone."

He looked up at her, the bloodshot of his eyes standing out against his pale face. "Hifumi's the smartest, most clear-sighted person I know. She knows things about me I didn't. I didn't even think about what I felt for Shiho, much less realize I was in love. Isn't she right?"

Ann swirled the ice in her cup. "I didn't realize I may have had a thing for Yuu-kun until that… kiss. And I don't think either of us had things sorted out until you dragged us into the courtyard in the rain. I even avoided thinking about it. What if it's the same with you?" When he slumped in his seat and played with the cup in his hand, she continued, "I think you needed someone and Shiho was there for you. But I'm pretty sure you never felt for Shiho what you feel for Hifumi. You are crazy about her, and there's no way she can't know."

His hands hit the table. "What if she's right? It's not like I haven't thought of other girls."

Ann clasped her cup. "It's not like a person can help all his thoughts. Shadows wouldn't even exist if the heart worked that way." She wiped a droplet off with her finger. "I can see her fear of losing something precious. The way she described family gatherings, her shy nature always left her at the periphery. I don't think it's in her to really attack someone else, but from her walk of life of having every close relationship destroyed by forces outside her control, I can see the fear of losing something precious. Whether her mother or a boyfriend cheating on her—"

Taking his glasses off, he pressed his gloved fingers against his eyes and groused, "Like me?"

Ann's lips pressed into a thin line. "No, like past boyfriends she broke up with because she found out they were dating her and banging other girls at the same time."

His hands went down, back straightened, and his fists clenched. That smolder in his eyes burst into a fire. "Who?"

"Akira, this whole situation started because she thought you cheated on her," Ann snapped to keep him from plotting an elaborate murder. Then added with haste, "Which you didn't. If you were the type of guy to do that, you'd have gone for Shiho." She felt her brows knit higher. "Things were getting tense, Yuu-kun kept on giving half-warnings but would never spell it out for her and she was getting fed up with him. But you saw he made her happy. You gave them respectful distance when you could have charged after the first girl who made you happy." She reached across the narrow table to pat his arm. "Give yourself some credit."

He heaved in a deep breath, then let out a sigh. Still, his shoulders and brow weren't as tense as before. "You do have some good points."

Ann sat back and let her grin shine. "You know it!"

She thought a blush returned to his face, but his steel eyes gazed not at her but into the distance. "She said she loved me." He dropped his chin into a hand braced on the table. "I'm not even sure I know what love is."

Ann clamped down on the urge to sing, 'Baby don't hurt me'. She took another sip of soda and set her glass back down. "We're all figuring things out, Akira. I can't really say that much about navigating romantic relationships when I haven't had any. Getting asked out on dates kind of gets spoiled when half of the guys who try are trying to find out what color my underwear is within the first five minutes. Sadly, Hifumi's probably the most experienced of us in that regard, and emotions definitely rode high today so I'd wait until you can talk reasonably." When his gaze fell, she brushed a pigtail off her shoulder. "Maybe you can get her a nice souvenir when we go on our class trip. It's coming up next week, have you thought about what you're going to get everyone?"

Settling his glasses back on his face, he sat up. "I… never actually bought souvenirs for anyone before."

Before she could ponder how tragic that sounded, her phone buzzed on the table next to her elbow. "Oh, it's my agency." After another glance to be sure he was okay, she unlocked her phone and read the email begging her for a quick sub job.

He picked up on the darting of her eyes. "Something wrong?"

"Not with me," Ann replied. "My agency's begging for a sub. Looks like a model in a Shibuya shoot is a no-show." She opened her mouth to tell him she'd be going – there was nothing else she could do about the situation with Hifumi, and he didn't look like he wanted to stalk into a crowd and punch a random guy in the face just to invite a reprisal. Still, just running off when he was still red around the eyes left a bad taste in her mouth. "Why don't you come?"

He blinked and tilted his head.

She flashed a smile. "C'mon!"

He seemed like more of him wanted to sit around moping, but when she grabbed his sleeve he stumbled up and after her. Akira hit his stride and followed her to the underground. After settling in a quiet corner of the platform. He stepped closer and it took more than one try before he said, "You really think things are gonna be right before we jet off to the school trips? I don't even know where she's going…"

"Los Angeles," Ann provided. "Yusuke's been looking forward to it. He went on for quite a while about the Getty and Norton. You should've seen his eyes mist over." She gave a wry chuckle. "Reminds me of you when you're looking at Hifumi."

His face went red again, but the hunch of his shoulders returned too. He straightened the sleeves of his Sunday jacket. "I still don't know if we should be in a relationship. Look at me, at us. I hurt her even when I don't want to."

She took his arm with a firm squeeze. "Hey. Hifumi's got to be a big girl about things, too. Did you ever tell her she was a lesser person for having had another boyfriend in the past?"

He crossed his arms. "I actually thought she had a boyfriend from the start. Smart, nice, pretty? I ran across a few of those at Tanizaki, they were all taken. It would be arrogant to think somebody so perfect could just be… sitting there waiting just for me."

She ribbed him with an elbow. "You did swoop in to save her. You may not be able to see it, but you're not a bad catch."

He blushed again, but the train saved him from having to respond.

Shibuya, Market Street

Ann kept a hand on his arm, part to pull him along and part because he seemed steadier with her that close. The crowds bustling around them were thinner, but he still had that jumpy tension whenever people came close. It felt perfect to her, enough room on the sidewalk to choose where she walked and the sun shining on her face. If it wasn't so hot it might have reminded her a little of Rauma. They reached the glove store serving as the deliberate backdrop to the day's photo shoot and checked in with the shoot manager.

Once there, Akira withdrew with a faint aura of sullen contemplation.

The other model, a girl older than high school but too young to be much past college age, approached her. Already decked out in the slim dress and makeup tuned for the cameras and lighting, she looked raring to go. "Ann-senpai! Ohmygosh! I saw you at last year's fashion extravaganza, you were the star of the show!" She sniffed and her eyes sparkled. "I'm so happy I could cry."

Ann took a shallow step back. Not many models gushed at her, snippy or passive-aggressive was much more common. "Oh, please don't cry! It was just a tiny fashion show."

Akira came to a stop beside her, just a step behind. It made it hard to tell if he was nervous or just wary, but his eyes were on the brown-haired model. "You have us at a disadvantage." He held a hand against his well-dressed chest. "Yoshida."

The brown-haired model in a dark blue dress clapped her hands against her cheeks. "Ah!" She bowed. "I'm so rude! Please, call me Mika."

"It's all right, Mika-san!" Ann said, trying to suppress the nervousness in her smile. This was reminding her a little of their first joint venture with Makoto and how stiff and formal she tried to make things.

Mika rose and gave a wink and tilt of her head. "You don't have to use honorifics for little ol' me, Ann-senpai. I'm just a no-name beginner. You're practically a pro!" She straightened and clasped her hands together in front of her chest. "Could you teach me how to be a better model? Everyday routines, stretches…"

Ann blinked, feeling like so much was coming so fast. After the talk with Akira, and him being so close yet so quiet, things felt weird. "Like singing in the shower?"

A bead of sweat rolled from Akira's brow, and a blush colored his face.

While the last crew deployed painted umbrellas for indirect lighting, the shoot manager came out from behind a wheeled stand of cables, batteries, and camera attachments. "Good, at least somebody will show up promptly when emailed. We've been having way too many no-shows this week." He pointed her at a white utility van off to the side. As usual, there were onlookers gawking at the public shoot, but there were also fabric barriers to give at least a semblance of privacy at the back of the van. It would have to do.

Despite being dolled up already, Mika followed. "How often do you weigh yourself?"

Ann leaned to help the attendant – thankfully a woman this time – get her top off and slam a dark red tube-top over her. "Once a year for the school health examinations." The attendant helped her replace her pleated skirt with a frilly black one.

"Light meters!" she heard the shoot manager shout. "We've got a blonde to make stand out."

Settling back into her shoes, Ann knew that meant she needed to be there so she brushed back a pigtail and stepped out. "All ready, Boss-san!"

He gave the kind of weary, practiced smile of somebody doing something for a bit too long. "Stand here. Mika-chan? Right next to her."

The brown-haired woman jumped to place. "I'm ready to give a hundred and ten percent!"

"That's mathematically impossible," Akira said from the sideline, tone still dull.

As the technicians busied themselves taking light-meter readings and redirecting the indirect lighting, Mika held a smile for the crew despite the camera-man still screwing on a large lens. "So Ann-senpai, what kinda stuff do you eat? I can't find a good place to import organic green almonds."

Ann watched the crew scramble about, a frequent shuffle given how few crews were experienced with shooting a blonde model. A man with a soft base brush jabbed at her face. "I love the chocolate-covered almonds at Enchi's. They have specials for milk chocolate on Tuesdays!"

Mika's smile faded and a flicker passed over the model's face before settling on perplexed. A beat later she settled into firm determination. "Um… what about how you cook? I dread my daily bowl of quinoa."

"Quinoa? Hey, Aki!" When Ann waved him over, the shoot assistant let the suited student closer. "What'd you put in that super delicious quinoa salad you made for us?"

Surprise flashed over Mika's face. "Oh, your boyfriend makes your meals? You're sooo lucky!" She clasped her hands and rounded on him. "Pleeease, please, please tell me how you do it?"

Despite the young woman's cute begging, a crestfallen look passed over his face at the word 'boyfriend'. "It's nothing special. Just acid to balance the fats added by avocado."

Mika's face twisted in revulsion. "Fats? I'm trying to get thin!" She shook her head. When he refused to go on, she prodded, "Like… do you boil it in hard water?"

Ann scratched under her pigtail. "Why would you boil ice?"

Mika looked up and down the blonde next to her, something around her eyes Ann recognized but couldn't put her finger on. "You and you boyfriend are gonna keep it all secret, huh?" She sniffled and wrapped her arms around herself. "I just… I was looking forward to learning from Senpai. You're so pretty and I just wanted to be like you."

Ann blinked, unable to handle the guilt trip. As if on cue, the makeup artist departed to get the next stage, the technicians taking light readings retreated and huddled with the two camera men, leaving the blonde feeling even more isolated. "Oh, Mika-san… I wasn't! I just don't think about that. Modeling is like a hobby."

The plastic smile on Mika's face vanished and she delivered a flat, "What?" She straightened, a deep frown etching. Then a flicker passed over her face and she clasped her hands to her chest like a damsel in distress and raised her voice. "You don't care about modeling for these guys? That's awful! This fine shop and these nice people are working so hard to give us this chance…"

Akira blinked behind his glasses. His voice still sounded weak when he said, "That is not at all what she said."

Flinching, Ann took a step to try to get some physical footing so her metaphorical footing could catch up. "I—"

Mika shouted, "They're all trying their best and you can't stand them?"

The shoot manager stormed closer. "You'd say that about this outfit, Ann-chan?"

"I didn't—!"

The dark-haired model bawled, "I love this magazine!"

"Mika-chan, please don't cry," the manager said, raising both hands despite having a clipboard in both. "We know you're working hard."

"She said—" Akira started with very little force.

Mika hiccupped and sniffled. "B-but you all are working so much harder than me, and yet you're comforting me."

Ann stepped back. "W-wait!"

"Please, Mika-chan, you don't want your makeup to run," the shoot manager said. He glanced to the blonde. "If you're not interested maybe you'd best get on with your day, Ann-chan." He looked back to the young woman. "Easy, Mika-chan. Do you need five or so minutes?"

Mika sniffled, an arm held over her face for a moment. "N-no. I read the concept docs on my way here." She turned from the manager, sparing a glance to the cameramen still readying their equipment. A smirk crawled across her face the blonde would have expected from Shiho before springing an ambush during a game of Shadowrun.

Carmen roared within and Ann wished she could've let loose a blizzard in the real world. "You faker!"

Mika wailed. "So mean!"

Now the shoot manager pushed between them. "Okay, okay you two. Ann-chan? We won't be needing you today." When the model opened her mouth to protest, he said, "Go on and return the wardrobe and I'll comp your transportation expenses for you and your boy, and throw in a little extra so there's no trouble."

"But—"

Mika opened her mouth and the shoot manager raised both full hands. "Please, Mika-chan. We're ready to get started. Ann-chan? This was a one-model shoot to start with, Mika-chan got here a few minutes before you did."

Between her annoyance at Hifumi, bafflement at Akira, and the swirling torrent of emotions at Mika she couldn't even separate yet, Ann couldn't pick out what to do.

Akira stepped closer, a faint hand on her shoulder. "That's very generous, sir. I hope you'll consider Ann-san in the future."

The manager nodded. Mika went one way and the two students headed to the supply van, where Akira waited outside the cordoned-off changing space. That older model's smirk hung in the blonde's mind's eye and Ann grit her teeth. A rip sounded as she yanked off the skirt and the consequences of her emotions caught up to her all at once. "Oops." She felt flames against her face and looked up at the woman on today's wardrobe duty. "I'm so sorry, I'll pay for that."

"Yeah," she said. "You will." She handed over Ann's pleated skirt and the blonde finished changing with a great deal more care.

When she came out, Akira had a shiritori game on his phone but put it away as soon as he saw her. "Hey," he said as if just speaking words took great effort. "You gonna be okay?"

Ann felt a warmth inside that he had the energy to spare some concern for her. "Carmen's pretty mad, but I'll get over it. I was the one who screwed that up. You're not right with where things are with Hifumi, so you shouldn't have to carry my mistakes, too."

"No," he shook his head. "You were totally right and I didn't back you up against her."

"Love makes fools of us all," Ann reminded him. "You tell us to take it easy if we sprained a leg in the Metaverse, same goes for you. Even if it's more the heart than the hamstring."

Akira turned his steely gaze on her and really looked at her for the first time in a while. They walked down the sidewalk to the subway station in silence for a while. The pedestrian traffic picked up as they neared the stairs down and Akira said, "Mika outclassed us. Played us all like fiddles."

Ann shook her head, but couldn't muster Carmen's anger any more. "I make money at it, but I'm just an amateur. She saw straight through me." She scratched at her head. "Her fake crying was amazing."

He nodded, though his face seemed rather grim. "She lied like she'd been doing it all her life." His face twisted in disgust. "If she hadn't needed to give you that smirk to rub it in, I might have missed it."

Hearing his anger at himself took the wind out of her sails. Ann let out a huff. "Well… for your information, I have a pretty good technique for fake crying, too!" Once she was sure she had his full attention – besides the arched eyebrow – she leaned in to continue, "The key is, you don't actually cry."

His flat stare did not fluff her ego. "That's… why it's fake crying, right?"

"You're no fun." She flicked his nose. "Still, I think I can make use of some of her technique. If Morgana's still up for taking us into the Metaverse tomorrow, I wanna practice it against some Shadows."

Akira gave one of those adorable twisty smiles. "You don't let anything keep you down, huh? I'll make sure to leave a few opportunities."

She zipped in to give him a quick hug – maybe more for her benefit than his, but it felt good and he looked less tense besides his cute blush. Ann straightened a pigtail. "I'm gonna go see Shiho. You good?"

He took a deep breath, then let it out. "I… it still hurts, but I'll make it to tomorrow, thanks to you. Tell her I'm still praying for her physical therapy, all right?"

AN: While I normally look to composers when naming side-characters for filling in the scene, the Enchi mentioned by Ann is a reference to Enchi Fumiko, a 20th-century Japanese woman likely best remembered by Japan's literary community for translating the Tale of Genji into modern Japanese, as well as her own original fiction The Waiting Years about a woman charged to select her own husband's mistress.