Long after the sun had set behind the horizon and the city lights had flickered to life, a yellow Porsche swung into the parking lot of Toshima General Hospital. The driver, a tall, reedy man on the cusp of middle age, lingered in his seat for a moment, pulling at his goatee and fiddling with the wisps at the edge of his newly-receding hairline as he studied his reflection in the vanity mirror. Was it getting worse? He glanced at the fedora in the seat next to him, but decided to leave it there. She'd see right through it, anyways.

Once he was satisfied, he heaved himself out of the car with a grunt and went inside - but not before taking note of the license plate on a black SUV parked not too far away. A rental. That in and of itself wasn't odd to see at a hospital, but he knew the sort of people who favored those cars.

His suspicions were only further heightened by the exasperated glance he received from the receptionist as he walked in. He probably wasn't the first black suit she'd seen come through the doors that day, though she became more relaxed once he presented his ID and explained why he was there. By the time the man reached the entrance to the ICU, he wasn't at all surprised to find someone there barring his way.

He gave the stranger a once over. Close-cropped hair, sunglasses, built like a fridge. They made guys like this in factories.

"'Scuse me. Here to see someone."

The goon widened his stance slightly.

"Sorry. Authorized personnel only."

The man swallowed a sigh.

"Really? They're not allowing visitors anymore? What, is there an outbreak or something?"

"Unless you got the proper ID, you need to leave."

For the second time tonight, the man fished his ID card out of his pocket and held it out to the guard.

"Alright, alright. No need to get pushy."

The larger man snatched the card from his hand, and as he scanned its contents, his eyebrows just barely crested the top of his shades. It was a reaction so small most people wouldn't have noticed it.

"I'm with the SIU," the man continued. "Heard there was some suspicious activity around here. Sketchy figures harassing the patients and staff and such. You wouldn't happen to have seen any of that, eh?"

This last part was a lie, of course, but he was curious to see if he could shake this guy up a bit.

"I, uh, wouldn't know anything about that."

It really was that easy.

"Well, that's good to hear. Can I come through, then?"

The guard shuffled his feet a bit and fiddled with his earpiece as though he wanted to ask permission from whoever had put him there.

"I-I didn't say that. Even if you are SIU, you're gonna need written permission from the Director to pass."

The man pressed his lips together to keep from smirking. It was time to spring the trap.

"Oh, so the Director knows about this? That's strange. You'd think I'd have heard about it. Who do you answer to? Maybe I could give 'em a call, get this all straightened out."

"I-I'm not authorized to-"

"Actually," the man advanced on the guard until they were practically face to face, "why don't you just show me your ID instead? If you can do that, I'll be more than happy to get outta your hair."

The guard reached for his earpiece again, but just as he was about to press the button, his arm dropped back to his side.

"Tch," he scoffed. "I don't gotta show you anything."

"Then I suggest you take a hike before I put in a few calls myself. Tell your boss to go find a hobby," the man said, hooking his thumb over his shoulder. The guard snarled, but did as he was told. Though just as he ambled into the elevator, he gave one last parting shot.

"You'd better watch yourself, old man. You don't have a clue who you're dealing with," he called out, and the elevator doors slid shut.

The agent from the SIU rolled his eyes. He didn't know for sure who'd stationed that stooge there, but he had a couple guesses. He didn't care for any of them.

With the way cleared, the man continued on his way until he reached the little room near the end of the hall. Even though he knew it was pointless, he still paused outside for a second to smooth out his hair a little more, then gave a gentle rap on the door.

Nobody responded.

With a twinge of anxiety, the man knocked again, a little louder. This time, he heard the faint sound of shuffling paper and the rattle of an office chair rolling on linoleum. A few seconds later, a woman's voice called out from the other side.

"I'm sorry, but I'm busy right now, and it's getting late. If you'd like a meeting, please come back tomorrow morning."

Though she was doing her best to be polite, her tone was somewhat strained and on edge.

"What? I can't just drop by to say hello?" the man responded. The door opened a crack, and the woman peered out at him from behind her rectangular glasses. As soon as she saw his face, a look of relief broke out across hers.

"Oh, it's just you. Come on in," she said, ushering him inside. The space had somehow become even more chaotic since the last time he'd visited, with large, strange machines pushed into the corners, wires crisscrossing the air, and mounds of folders strewn across a desk that was far too small for the sheer amount of them.

"Hoo boy. I was gonna ask if you needed a break, but this speaks for itself. Coffee?"

Nestled in between a couple of precariously stacked binders was a run-of-the-mill drip coffee machine, the kind you'd find in any breakroom. The only beans available were pre-ground and burnt to hell, but soon the cramped office was filled with the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee, and even if it wasn't high quality, it still smelled inviting and delightful. Dr. Isshiki lifted the styrofoam cup to her lips and grimaced.

"Ugh. I've had about enough of this stuff. You should bring some of your beans next time."

The man took a sip of his own and couldn't help but inwardly agree. He set the cup down next to him.

"Next time, huh? You're not close to wrapping this up yet?"

Isshiki snorted derisively.

"Hardly. The last few weeks have been insane. The trial expedition turned into such a fiasco that I've barely had a chance to properly sort through the data we collected."

The man crossed his legs and tasted the coffee again. Nope. Still vile.

"Mm. That reminds me. I was able to check in on those kids for you this week. Seems like they're settling in well enough…in their own ways. I suppose being thirty million yen richer makes that a little easier."

"That's a relief. I was able to push the Ministry to triple their compensation, but it doesn't change the fact that we're responsible for what happened. Poor Jidou-chan."

"If it's any consolation, the twins were in good enough spirits when I met them. Bought a nice little place in a good neighborhood. Rin-chan's learning sign language, and Gin-kun's been interviewing for jobs. They've become good friends with that Tetsuo kid, too. They're pretty well adjusted, all things considered."

"That…does make me feel better. At least, a little. Even though things didn't go quite the way we planned, it's thanks to them that we know the Metaverse is real. We were this close to losing funding completely. Now it seems I've got more patrons than I can shake a stick at."

The man's brow furrowed.

"You don't say. Well, one of 'em's awfully enthusiastic."

The doctor's brows flattened in alarm.

"What does that mean?"

He then told her about his run-in with the "guard" outside, and she buried her face in her palms.

"You've got to be kidding me. I was wondering why it'd been so quiet recently. I don't know whether I should be angry or thankful."

"You should be cautious. These politicians aren't cutting checks for the good of society or anything like that. If I had to guess, I'd say somebody has a personal interest in your research, and wants to keep it for themselves. Don't trust a single one of those vultures, okay?"

"Of course I don't. But like it or not, we still need money to keep this thing afloat. If that means wandering into the dragon's den, then I'll just have to tiptoe through it. Don't worry about me. I know how to take care of myself."

"All right, all right," the man shrugged. He knew better than to argue when she was like this. Instead, he chose to change the subject.

"So, how much longer do you think you're gonna be tonight?"

Isshiki's eyes wandered to her laptop and the mess of scattered reports beneath it.

"No clue. A while, probably." Her lips curled impishly. "Why? If you were thinking of asking me on a date, you should make other plans."

He flashed her a roguish grin in return.

"No, although I'm touched you were considering it. Actually, I was wondering if you needed someone to check in on the little gremlin tonight."

Isshiki's expression softened.

"Could you? I put leftovers in the fridge for dinner tonight, but she didn't really care for it last night and I'm worried she'll just go to bed without eating."

"Really? I didn't think it was possible for her to turn her nose up at your food."

"Usually it's not a problem, but I did try something different yesterday and even I'm not crazy about how it turned out. If she's really dead set against eating it, would you mind whipping up some curry for her?"

"I could, but I don't think she likes mine as much as yours. She was very clear about that last time."

"Don't be silly. She loves your cooking, she just gets into a bad mood sometimes."

She paused, studying the muddy surface of her rapidly cooling coffee.

"...I really appreciate you going out of your way to help me look after Futaba. Tell her I'll be home soon. Tomorrow night. I promise."

"I'll pass it along," he said with a smile, and rose from his chair to leave. "Take care, Wakaba."

"Good night, Sojiro."