Author's Note: Brief comment in response to a review regarding the use of some Japanese words; I try to ensure that it doesn't come across as gratuitous or excessive, but there are some scenarios where using the English equivalent just doesn't convey the full sense of what's going on cultural.
Take 'gomen kudasai' from the last chapter: it literally means "Please forgive me for bothering you." It's a customary greeting for guests to say when visiting someone else's home in Japan; however, translated out into English, it just sounds odd to the ear.
This is admittedly a personal preference on my part, but if there's a particular scene where the English equivalent just wouldn't convey the proper tone (in my opinion), then the Japanese equivalent will be utilized. That's just how I approach it (much like with honorifics, because they're such a useful shorthand to convey relationship status between characters that just isn't as present in American English).
Anyhow, on with the chapter!
xxxx
Sokila wasn't 'practicing' with her fellow Attendants.
Rather, she was drawing a picture of a ferry, slowly sinking beneath the waves.
"...that was...sad...and scary..."
Beside her was a finished portrait of Saori Hasegawa.
"...and she seemed so nice, too...why did she have to die like that...?"
With a sigh that sounded somewhat mature for a girl of her apparent age and stature, she then began sketching a picture of Sojiro Sakura.
"...he seems...grumpy...but also nice?"
She paid special attention to the cup of coffee in the man's hands.
"...I hope he can make you feel better..."
The faint haze of blue began to brighten-
xxxx
/Monday: August 3, 2015/
/Sojiro Sakura's Residence, Nishiawakura, Okayama Prefecture/
Shinji Ikari slowly woke up within a bed that had been his own for many years.
("I only have some rice in the cooker right now, so I can't exactly give you much of a proper welcoming meal...then again, you all look pretty beat up, so maybe simple is best." remarked Sojiro as he ushered the Hakone Caravan into his home. "I'll show you the guest rooms where you can put your belongings...but I'll leave it to you as to how you want to split things up.")
He quietly looked around the room, noting that not much had changed since he had last been here: there were several pictures from certain school functions (you look so blank in them; was it that hard to smile?), as well as a small bookshelf that was crowded books on various subjects (farming, music...some of your old textbooks from school...). Aside from a small desk where he had done his homework over the years, there wasn't exactly much in the way of furniture. It looks so...barren. He wondered what the cognition of this room looked like; a thought experiment for later, perhaps.
Slowly rising, he shuffled over towards the closet, which still contained some of his clothes from before he had had to abruptly leave at the beginning of June. (That felt like a lifetime ago.) Reaching for a plain, baby blue yukata, he slowly put it on before exiting his room; socks slid over the wooden floors, a familiar ritual that slowly filtered back into his mind.
(There were always chores to be done, when school wasn't in session: sweeping floors, dusting, pulling weeds, helping to maintain the vegetable garden out back, making sure the cats that liked to roam about the property were properly attended to; there was always something.)
The number of rooms lining the hall would have seemed out of place for a solitary individual like Sojiro Sakura; alas, it had once been an old ryokan — a traditional inn, relatively small in size — that had come into the man's possession many years before he had ever been in the picture. This was rather serendipitous, as it allowed everyone more space to spread out: Toji and Kensuke in one room, Mana and Mayumi in another, with Amamiya, Iori, Amada, and Sakamoto all being able to claim their own individual space. Compared to the places they had slept at previously, the space was downright luxurious, in spite of the lack of furniture overall.
(Sojiro had made no bones about the available accomodations. "Hope you all don't mind futons, because that's all I've got...save for the kid's old room, but I imagine he was going there by default regardless.")
The aroma of fresh coffee was filtering in from the main entry hall, where his sensei usually gathered himself every morning; the man himself was sitting in one of the small easy chairs within the room, all arranged to face the old CRT television set. A pleasantly plump Scottish Fold with a short gray coat was resting on the man's slipper-clad feet: another morning ritual that he hazily recalled. "Good morning, sensei...and Enkai-chan, right?" The cat in question loosed a lazy trill in response.
"Good morning, boy," remarked Sojiro, his eyes lazily drifting towards the kitchen. "There's a fresh pot in the kitchen."
Shinji dutifully shuffled along, grabbing himself an old coffee mug and pouring himself a cup of the caffeinated ambrosia. Taking the seat nearest Sojiro, he took a calm and tentative sip. To say it was nostalgic was...putting it mildly. "...I never realized it until I went to Tokyo-3...but I think you may have spoiled me with regards to coffee..."
"Oh? Is that a fact."
"...it's just an observation, sir."
The man had a wry grin on his face. "So it is." Taking another sip himself, the man gazed critically at him. "...that voicemail you left was a little shocking, you realize?"
"Sir...?"
"I watched over you for about a decade...and ten years is a long time for anything. Yet in all that time, you were always so quiet, and withdrawn. And your interactions at school seemed...unusually inept."
Shinji flushed with embarrassment. "...you never mentioned any of this, before."
The man shrugged in a somewhat chagrined fashion. "Given what you've been through, I figured you've earned a bit of straight talk...but back to my point: so long as you weren't a troublemaker, I just chalked it up to you being a bit of an introvert by nature...which suited me just fine. I figured you would eventually grow out of it one day...but to hear it so soon after you left was still a surprise."
"...was it?"
"That voicemail showed more emotion and earnestness than I'd gotten from you in years. Honestly, there were times when you seemed more like a robot...or maybe a dead man walking."
Shinji resisted the urge to curl up in a ball. "...was I that bad?"
"I don't know if I'd call it 'bad.' because there wasn't anything wrong, so to speak. Maybe I just wasn't able to provide you what you needed."
He emphatically shook his head, because that wasn't true. "...but you looked out for me, even though you didn't have to. And...I think you tried your best." That's what his memories indicated, at any rate.
The older man chuckled ruefully, the brief vibrations causing Enkai to stretch and adjust his sleeping position. "If you say so...but regardless of how or why it turned out this way, despite the rumors I hear on the news about life in Tokyo-3...I have to say, you've grown quite a bit in such a short amount of time. And quite frankly, it does this old man's heart good to see it." There was a brief pause. "Don't tell any of the neighbors I said that."
Shinji couldn't help the brief smile that came to his face. "Of course, sensei."
Turning towards the television, Shinji noticed that the morning news was discussing a...rather recent event.
"-the incident of Angel Syndrome that occurred in the Kii Channel is still subject to updates, but amateur footage from other vessels shows what appears to be an entire ferry vanishing from sight." As the news anchor, rather wobbly video footage — overlaid on the screen — show a blue and white ferry fading into static before disappearing entirely. "The Anti-Terror Task Force units stationed in Tokushima and Osaka Prefectures disavowed any knowledge of the event, as they asserted that the NPA SB's Security Department had claimed jurisdiction; no comment has been provided by the NPA SB, other than that the event is 'subject to an ongoing investigation.' No comment has been provided from operating company, Nankai Ferry, about what had happened to the Ai. For the time being, travel on the Katsuragi has apparently been reduced-"
"...you look like you know something," shrewdly remarked Sojiro.
"...I'm not sure if I can talk about it," he admitted.
"Then I suppose I'll be finding out one way or another from your chaperones." He sighed loudly, eliciting an irritable mewling from Enkai. "What a hassle."
"Sorry..."
"No, don't apologize. You already have enough craziness in your life as it is." Sojiro took another sip, adding, "besides, Sakamoto-san informed me that he would give me more details in short order. Whether I find out today or tomorrow won't really change much."
Shinji blinked. "Is he already awake?"
"Not just that..."
xxxx
("...Sakamoto-san decided to go on a morning walk, to stretch his leg...")
Ryuji Sakamoto inhaled the village air with a satisfied grin; just brisk enough at over three hundred meters above sea level, but not too high as to make a morning walk arduous. Already, a number of farmers were out and about, tending to their rice and vegetable fields. The distant sound of loggers working in the local cedar forests could also be heard at a distant din. Industrious, but kind of a sleepy place. The local Archetypes would probably reflect that.
After all, it was best to get the lay of the land...
xxxx
("...and Amada-san said he had to meet with our local A.T. Agent, as a matter of professional courtesy...")
Ken Amada quietly took a bite of bread, courtesy of a local bakery. "...it tastes pretty fresh. Any of it locally sourced?"
The older man — similar in age to Captain Sakamoto, by the looks of him — shrugged. "The rice bread is, but their more artisanal stuff requires flour and wheat from outside Nishiawakura; they tend to save it for the weekends because of it."
Ken nodded, briefly glancing to the young girl sitting besides him; judging by her proportions and size, she was probably similar in age to Ikari and his friends. "Is there a particular reason you brought her along?"
The man chuckled, his parted black hair quivering from the movement. "Ever heard of 'Bring Your Daughter to Work' Day? No? Well, given that school's out, it seemed...fitting, to show her the ropes. After all, if she's going to 'inherit' the family business, it's important to give her some practical skills, you know?"
The girl sighed, fiddling with the red hair clip in her dark brown hair, which was parted in a similar fashion to her father's. "Dad, it's embarrassing to hear you talk about it like that..."
"Er, well..."
Ken rolled his eyes at the easy banter between the two. "Nonetheless, what I have to say is kind of...confidential."
"...if you insist," diplomatically said his fellow Agent. "Honey, can you-?"
"-step outside?" she finished for him. "I can; it's a short walk to the school anyway."
"Good, I'll come get you when I'm done." As the young girl stepped away, her father sighed. "Sometimes, it feels like navigating teenage moods is a minefield..."
"Aren't the schools out by now?" asked Ken.
"Yeah, but she's in the Farming Club; today's her day to look out for the plot they've got on the school grounds." The man sighed, adjusting his rimless glasses as he did so. "So...what'd you need to talk to me about?"
"I'm in town alongside Junpei Iori and Ryuji Sakamoto."
"...really? I thought Sakamoto had become a Freelancer."
"He still is."
"...what exactly would require a mission involving you three? I'd understand if you were providing support for all the people they've got in Okayama, what with the Olympics going on...but why a sleepy little mountain village like Nishiawakura?"
"...we're playing chaperone, basically."
"For who?"
"Does the name Shinji Ikari ring a bell?"
"...yes, actually. He was in the Farming Club as well. Lived with old man Sakura before he transferred to Tokyo-3 out of the blue...and right before the end of the term at that." The man's eyes narrowed. "...this wouldn't have anything to do with all the rumors I've heard, are they?"
"Possibly. Depends on the rumors. But before you hear me out...the Captain, Junpei, and I all vouch for him. I imagine Misato Katsuragi, Goro Akechi, and Makoto Niijima would as well, and those three aren't lightweights by any stretch of the imagination."
"...fair enough. I imagine there's more to the story anyhow."
"Some of the more...personal details will have to wait until we're in a quieter place. But for now, here's what I can tell you." And so Ken Amada proceed to relay a rather interesting tale to his fellow Agent.
xxxx
"...and I think Iori-san's still sleeping," finished Sojiro, scratching at his goatee. "You're the first of the kids to wake up."
"...I see," murmured Shinji, sipping at his coffee. "So...do you still run the cafe at the bottom of the hill?"
"I'd still be in bed if I weren't. Somebody has to provide caffeine to all the locals."
Shinji wordlessly nodded, thinking about what the day would bring. Hmm...maybe I can show them the Farming Club at my old school? There was a halfway decent idea...
xxxx
Before long, everyone else had woken up...except Amamiya-senpai. After a quick and light breakfast of ochazuke — green tea over cooked rice with various toppings — it was time for sensei to open up his little cafe.
"I'll stay behind until Mr. Van Driver wakes up," remarked Junpei Iori, sipping his own coffee with a satisfied grin. With his feet kicked back, he was practically slumped over in the easy chair. "A little veg-out session in front of the TV sounds like just what the doctor ordered!"
"...just don't put your feet on the furniture," groused Sakura.
And so Shinji followed his old caretaker alongside Kensuke, Toji, Mana (who had left her weapons behind, for obvious reasons), and Mayumi. Sakura, despite his age, navigated the path down towards the main village roads with slow but steady feet. This gave Kensuke, Toji, and Mayumi time to absorb the peaceful scenery. (Mana was too focused on watching the various cats that seemed to dot the landscape to relax.)
"Can't believe you grew up in an old-fashioned ryokan!" exclaimed Kensuke. "The amount of room you had...I'm jelly~"
("...why would you be jelly?" murmured Mana under her breath.)
"Any reason you don't use it like an inn?" asked Toji.
"It would have defeated the point of getting all that space," answered Sojiro. "I like my privacy."
Yamagishi sighed. "...this place seems so...peaceful. I can't believe you'd leave it..."
"Well...my father told me I had to come to Tokyo-3...so I did," relented Shinji.
"Quite literally," grumbled Sojiro, a bit of irritation showing in his voice. "Practically every word on it was redacted, save for the word 'come.' For a guy who couldn't be bothered to even visit, it was utterly audacious."
Shinji inwardly winced, feeling the stares of Kensuke and Toji piercing his back; it wasn't like they were blind to the issues present with his father, the former especially. "Um...can we please talk about something else...?"
"Fine by me," remarked Sojiro, dropping the subject.
They continued onward in relative silence, eventually arriving at a rather small cafe standing at the corner of two roads; of particular note was that it was just across the street from the local train station that serviced express trains on the Chizu Line. "Some of the younger folks who live out here take the train to either Tottori in the north or Akō to the south for work, but tourists are sort of confined to the weekends...though, with the Olympics happening in Okayama, we've had a bit more traffic coming through from the curious types. Basically, most of my customers are people who work locally, or commuters." Taking out a key to open up the door, he ushered the kids in, allowing them to take everything in; it was a rather small place that — between the small tables and tiny bartop — couldn't fit more than twenty people at a time. The decor was rather traditional, with numerous shelves lining the back wall that were filled with jars of coffee beans. A small open-air kitchen was situated near the back corner, complete with a fridge-freezer combo, stove, oven, microwave, and commercial sink. The various coffee-related appliances sat on a lower countertop right behind the bartop.
At the sight of the various coffee bean jars, Kensuke Aida's eyes narrowed. "Everything about you makes so much sense now."
"...does it?" hesitantly asked Shinji.
"If this is what you grew up with? Of course you'd be a coffee snob!"
The man chuckled as he put on an old apron. "Ah, so the boy wasn't pulling my leg, then? Is he that particular?"
"S-Sensei," stammered Shinji.
Kensuke grinned, turning up the good-hearted hazing. "Oh yeah, turns up his nose at the dorm's own coffee like a total primadonna!"
"Aida-san-"
Toji huffed, adding his own two cents. "It's honestly kind of weird, but it makes sense if this is what he had."
"S-Suzuhara-san-!"
Sojiro smirked, laughing to himself before turning on an old radio player; old-fashioned Japanese music with a bit of a modern twist began to play.
"...huh. Interesting choice," commented Toji.
As Sojiro readied the various appliances for the day's work, he said, "the station's one I've been listening to for years. Classical stuff, mostly. But they also throw in some of these 'lo-fi' tracks every now and then, to try and hook the young crowd, I suppose. So long as it doesn't frighten off my customers, I honestly don't care..." Glancing over his shoulder, he then asked, "...so, with that being said, before I officially open, how about I give you a little kickstart? Life out in the countryside means a lot more walking than you're probably used to in the city."
Toji snorted. "I run track."
Kensuke shivered. "I'm an intern for a freakin' slavedriver."
Mana crossed her arms. "I could probably bench press you."
Mayumi briefly fidgeted. "Um...I wouldn't mind a drink, per se..."
Shinji resisted the urge to shrivel up with embarrassment, but just barely.
Sojiro simply arched an eyebrow, seemingly unimpressed by teenage bravado. "Guess you're not ones for subtlety, then: I was offering free drinks."
"...oh," muttered Toji.
"...sure," murmured Kensuke.
Mana shrugged. "Fine by me."
Mayumi brightened. "Something sweet, if possible..."
Shinji managed to stifle an audible wince at the sudden awkwardness.
Fortunately, his sensei — armed with the superpower wielded by all crotchety middle-aged men known as the 'I don't give a crap' attitude — brushed past the social tension with ease, grabbing a bag of dark chocolate morsels from a cupboard beneath the bartop. "Are any of you lactose intolerant?" As the five kids shook their heads, he replied, "good. Best to go with genuine cream for this." He grabbed a box of dairy cream from the fridge, mixing it with the morsels in a glass measuring cup. Placing it into the microwave, he then grabbed five small glasses, lining them up in a row to put under the espresso machine. It was fascinating, watching the man work; he measured out some coffee beans from a particular jar on the Dark Roast shelf, placing them into an automated grinder; he pulled out the measuring cup from the microwave, taking a whisk and mixing the hot cream and melted morsels into a chocolate ganache; he adroitly measured the freshly ground coffee into the espresso machine's filter; the ganache was poured into a clean squeeze bottle; cold milk from the fridge was poured into a metal pitcher; the espresso machine rumbled, depositing the dark liquid into the glasses one at a time; each partially filled glass then had the chocolate ganache squirted in, which he then stirred together with a spoon; finally, once all five glasses had a coffee-chocolate base, he steamed the milk at the machine until it was nice and frothy; swirling and lightly tapping the bottom of the metal pitcher, he then poured the steamed milk into each glass, expertly forming the pattern of a leaf as the mixture rose to the top of the glass. Finally, as a finisher, he grabbed a metal spice tin, labelled 'Cocoa-Cinnamon-Ginger Mix'; with a few minor taps, he gave each glass a fine coating of powder. "And there you have it," he said, placing each glass on the bartop. "Fresh mocaccino, on the house."
It had taken less than fifteen minutes, and the song on the radio had changed by now; however, the man had moved so steadily and so confidently, that everyone — even Mana — had watched with utter fascination, uncaring of the passage of time.
"That looks tasty," said Kensuke with wide eyes.
"No kiddin'." Toji grabbed the sweet treat. "Never been much of a coffee guy, but I think I can dig this."
"...neat," murmured Mana, grabbing her mocha with a shrewd expression.
Mayumi lightly bowed. "Thank you kindly, Sakura-san."
Shinji smiled, taking his own glass with both eyes. "Yes...thank you, sensei."
The old man waved them off. "Don't thank me before you try it."
"Ah, of course!" exclaimed Kensuke, raising his glass. "Kanpai!" The other four kids echoed the boy's cheers before they all partook of their chocolatey drink.
The general consensus: 'mass destruction on the taste buds' level of yumminess.
xxxx
Ren Amamiya (though in the back of his mind, the name 'Akira Kurusu' still lurked like a thief in the night) quietly stared at the ceiling of his guest room.
He'd had quite the opportunity to be...contemplative, since awakening into this timeline. (There were times where he still envied his former ignorance, because damn did Minato Arisato and Yu Narukami have it rough.) After all, it was the only method he had of keeping things straight in his head, of sorting between what was real and not real. (Wrong way of thinking about it; what's real this time, and what was real last time?) Quite frankly, he wouldn't blame Arisato or Narukami (or Akechi, for that matter) if they thought that he was in over his head...because honestly, what did he bring to the table in terms of experience?
Narukami, counting this timeline, had experienced 2,457 lives that he could recall. Arisato had experienced who knows how many more than that. Rei Ayanami had experienced far more than even them, before they had ever even been Wild Cards. (This wasn't even counting an apparently antagonistic Wild Card that just so happened to share the same surname as Arisato, which threw up all sorts of red flags. That sort of inner paranoia and nervous tension...he hadn't felt the like since the time the Phantom Thieves had discovered Akechi — that smug yet seemingly earnest ally of theirs — was in fact plotting to assassinate him on Shido's orders...but that was another lifetime, alas...)
Himself? He had two lives as a Wild Card under his belt. (And one ran through so many similar beats that it was downright uncanny...but in one life, Yoshizawa and Maruki had never been a factor, while in another...?) At times (in your dreams), he was halfway convinced that there had been a third (those summer memories are so very fleeting)...but that was it. What did he honestly bring to the table compared to those two, other than another Persona-user with the power of the World Arcana?
Even Shinji Ikari, who was technically the newest of their ilk, had a power ceiling higher than all of them combined, for reasons he still had a hard time comprehending.
Here, by himself, in the dark...there was no one to put up a front for. (No need to be Joker without an audience, right...)
Seriously, how do those two find the strength to get out of bed each day? Ren could feel that experience gap relative to his predecessors quite keenly now, because damn did it hurt to see Sojiro Sakura in the flesh (the man that he and Futaba Sakura — oh, how he missed his little sister in all but blood! — had, in their little meme-filled texts to each other, casually referred to as 'Coffee!Dad' or 'Curry!Dad', because why not?). Seriously Ikari, you couldn't have dropped his name at least once before we got here?
(Haru Kurusu née Okumura knew that Sojiro's passing had hit him hard; it was probably why she had all but forced him to take the long walk to LeBlanc, which the two had long ago purchased from the man when old age had finally forced him into retirement. "The unpleasant things of life won't wait for us to get ready," she said with wisdom of one who had dealt with plenty of unpleasantness herself. "So take my words, dear: wake up, get up, and get out there!")
"...wake up...get up...and get out there..." he murmured to himself, slowly rising out of his futon. Thanks for the pick-me-up, Haru. With practice, he forced thoughts of his old lives (his wife and their children, his occupation, his friends, all of the ups and downs) into a little treasure chest into the back of his mind. Gotta focus on what's in front of me. He slowly began his morning calisthenic routine, formed out of practice and habit. (Habits were key. Habits helped form and manipulate his own cognition.) Here's to not breaking down...
xxxx
Sufficiently charged up on caffeine and sugar, Shinji and his peers departed Sojiro's Cafe (which was in fact its name, ironically enough), walking northward alongside a small two-lane road; Nishiawakura's lone junior high school was just under two kilometers away by foot, so walking there was only natural.
"You'd do this every single day?" asked Toji.
Shinji nodded, glancing as they passed numerous cobblestone retaining walls; all of them were overgrown with moss, kudzu, and vines of various varieties. After being in Tokyo-3 for not even two months, he hadn't even realized that the sight was nostalgic. "There and back. There's really not much need for a bus..."
"Even during winter?" asked Mayumi.
"Well...we never really get that much snow, honestly. Several days out of the month, if that..."
Mana kept a critical eye out, observing numerous things that must have seemed rather foreign relative to Tokyo-3: the clusters of old residential buildings, largely formed from traditional architecture; rusty sheds filled with farming tools and equipment; the relatively placid flow of the adjacent Yoshino River, which was laden with grasses that choked and redirected its flow; the numerous rice fields, blocked by wire fences that wouldn't really stop anyone from intruding if they were really determined. "...it feels odd. Like this place is both dead and alive."
Shinji hummed, thinking about the phrasing. There were signs of decay: patchy asphalt, weeds growing through concrete cracks, and deferred building maintenance all throughout; however, there were signs of life, of human existence. It was as though the people had accepted that nature was going to overtake their stuff to some extent; after all, why focus on merely cosmetic features when they had work to do?
Kensuke commented, "eh, I think a lot of rural villages are like this. Their municipal budget isn't as big as a major city's, so they've got to focus on more important things than looking nice, you know?"
"...I think it looks pretty nice," remarked Mayumi, somewhat wistfully. "It looks...lived in."
That was a good way of describing it.
After passing the local elementary school and a couple of gas stations, they walked through the proverbial 'downtown' of Nishiawakura: a tight little cluster of buildings that included the Village Hall, the Community Center, a local supermarket, a bank, the post office, the library, and so forth. Crossing the road, they walked adjacent to a fence blocking off the Yoshino River to their left, eventually coming into sight of an athletic field covered entirely by dirt. "Well...here's where I transferred from," he said, gesturing to the two three-story buildings beyond the dusty field: colored off-white, with a hip-and-gable roof covered in clay shingles, the only architectural standout was a clock tower that had a numberless analog face on all four sides. Needless to say, it was far more humble than the grandiose Hakone Academy.
"It's so...domestic," neutrally remarked Kensuke, only to get smacked upside the head by Toji. "Ow, what was that for?!"
"Seriously dude," griped Toji.
"It wasn't a criticism, it was an observation!"
Shinji ignored their banter. "Anyhow, the Farming Club had its own dedicated plot of soil to work with." He looked towards one of the school's utility sheds; adjacent to it was a seven-by-fifteen meter plot of soil, surrounded by wire fencing...and to his surprise, someone was already there.
xxxx
As Ren Amamiya — clad in a loose black shirt, green sweatpants, and socks — slithered into the entrance hall of Sojiro's home, Junpei Iori glanced up from his easy chair. "About time you woke up!"
"I did a lot of driving over the past few days," he casually remarked, eyeing the gray Scottish Fold lazily watching him. "Everyone's out and about?"
"Yep; the kids followed our host to his cafe, but I think Ikari was gonna show em' around his old haunts. As for the Cap and Kenny," Iori briefly glanced at his phone, "they should be here any minute now with the local A.T. Agent."
"The local Agent?"
"Well, if we're gonna stay here a while, it's only polite to give our peer a heads-up on the craziness that our presence seems to invite."
Fair enough. His eyes drifted towards the front door as the muted sounds of footsteps could be heard from outside on the engawa (you feel Ryuji, but...there's someone else...?); sure enough, Ryuji hobbled in, slipping off his boots near the small shelf containing a bunch of house slippers by the entrance. Ken Amada was right behind him...and so was someone else. What the...?
xxxx
"...Hasegawa-san?" blurted out Shinji.
The person working the plot of soil — a girl, clad in dirty overalls, a lightly colored cotton shirt, and a wide sun hat made of straw — rose from among the tomato plants, blinking confusedly at her name being called out. Even several meters away, he could see her brown eyes widen with surprise. "Ikari-san? What are you doing here?" asked Akane Hasegawa.
xxxx
Ren felt a sort of delayed deja vu, then a bit of confusion (where's the black suit?), and finally a sense of disbelief. Oh you have GOT to be kidding.
The dark-haired man — wearing weathered denim jeans, a long-sleeved cotton shirt colored navy blue, and well-worn workman's boots — lightly bowed towards Junpei Iori. "Hello there Iori-san. Zenkichi Hasegawa's the name; welcome to our little slice of the country called Nishiawakura. Amada-san has already taken the liberty of telling me about you."
Junpei rolled his eyes. "I'm sure."
Zenkichi turned his gaze towards Ren, raising his hand in greeting. "Howdy there, young man!"
"...howdy," diplomatically answered Ren, even as he inwardly wanted to tear out his hair from sheer exasperation. Seriously, does someone have it in for me?!
xxxx
Akane looked over Shinji's shoulder, towards the four teenagers gathered alongside him. "...who are these people?" she inquired, in the manner of a small-town girl suspicious of outsiders.
"Ah. These are my friends from Tokyo-3." Glancing towards his fellows (and utterly missing the surprised blink from Akane at the word 'friends'), he made minute gestures with his hands, giving them permission to go ahead and introduce themselves.
"The name's Kensuke Aida! No relation to Aida District," he joked with a wink and nod.
"I'm Toji Suzuhara," plainly said the track jock.
"Mana." And that's all the gruff girl offered.
"My name is Mayumi Yamagishi," said the bookish girl, briefly bowing. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
"So it is...I'm Akane Hasegawa, President of the Farming Club." The girl turned her gaze back towards Shinji. "Given how quickly you transferred during the middle of the first term, I'm surprised that you even came back."
(Unseen by Shinji, Kensuke, Toji, and Mayumi looked at each other, mouthing, 'Hasegawa...?')
"Well..." Shinji scratched at the back of his head. "Sakura-sensei," and wasn't that an unusual change (referring to him by his name and not just by title, as though it were completely naturally, even though he hadn't even said the man's even once in Tokyo-3, but WHY?), he briefly mused before saying, "well, he kind of invited me to come spend the summer break back here. He also offered to host any friends I happened to bring along..."
Akane arched an eyebrow. "Huh. That's...interesting."
"What, that he brought friends along at all? Or that he wanted to come back?" Toji narrowed his eyes. "Got something on your mind about Ikari or us? Come on, say what you're really thinking."
Akane's face would've fit the dictionary definition of 'nonplussed.'
"Down, Toji," cautioned Kensuke, gripping his friend's shoulder with intent. "No need to all offended on our behalf, because I'm pretty sure there was no offense met...right, Hasegawa-san?"
The girl shrugged, adjusting the brim of her sun hat so she could wipe some sweat off. "No, not at all. It's just...surprising, I guess. Unexpected."
Shinji, unsure of where the potential hostility came from, tried to defuse it. "Um...is your father doing okay? He's still the village's assigned A.T. Agent, right?"
Akane nodded. "He has a business meeting this morning involving his job," she said in neutral terms.
xxxx
/Meanwhile/
With Ren Amamiya having been told by Ryuji to take a hike (in much more polite terms than that; the young man hadn't disputed the dismissal at all, seemingly happy to go out and about all of a sudden), three A.T. Agents and one Cognitive Freelancer sat down to discuss recent events revolving around a particular Third Child.
"So, before we begin: quick question," asked Junpei. "Do you have anyone in your family by the name of Saori Hasegawa?"
Zenkichi blinked. "...not to my knowledge," he admitted. "Why do you ask?"
"Oh, no particular reason."
Ken sighed audibly while Ryuji snorted.
Zenkichi frowned. "That sounds like there's actually a very particular reason."
"Trust us, you'll understand once we get to what happened on the Ai ferry," said Ryuji.
xxxx
"Huh...wonder what kind of business meeting an A.T. Agent would have out here," murmured Shinji. "This place has always been pretty calm, aside from the new moons..."
("Gee, I can only imagine what could draw the local Agent's attention," snarked Kensuke under his breath.)
"I bet it has something to do with us," said Mana with her typical bluster.
(Kensuke eyed Mana with an expression that combined betrayal and bewilderment at the fact that someone had said the quiet part out loud.)
Shinji and Akane both looked at the girl with a blink. "Us?" he asked.
"Well, think about it: if he's the local authority on Metaverse incidents, why wouldn't he have a meeting with visiting Agents and a Freelancer? Especially with...everything else that's happened?" elaborated Mana.
Shinji frowned (because the Farming Club was supposed to be a distraction from that heavy stuff), saying, "um...I'm not sure we can talk about that-"
"Quick question, while I'm thinking about it," interrupted Toji, staring intently at Akane. "You don't know anyone named Saori Hasegawa, do you?"
Shinji nearly broke his neck, he turned around so fast. "Suzuhara?"
(Kensuke stared agog at Toji, mouthing, 'dude, what the hell?')
Akane blinked. "...not that I'm aware of. Why?"
Toji shrugged. "Mana's already mentioned it, so why beat around the bush? I figure sensei and his old teammates are probably gonna tell your old man about what's happened on our road trip so far. Because...well, it's not like they're not gonna talk about it, right?"
"...that's reasonable," murmured Mayumi.
Shinji fidgeted inwardly (because it was only now hitting him that Akane had the same surname as the dead woman from yesterday, and why hadn't that occurred to him, he had known Zenkichi and Akane Hasegawa for years, why hadn't it occurred to him yesterday when talking with Saori?! What's wrong with you?), not entirely comfortable with the current turn of conversation. "Um...I'm really not sure we can talk about this..."
Akane's expression had become...curious. Inquisitive. Even worse, insightful. "Huh...I wonder if there's truth to the rumors after all...?"
"Rumors?" wondered Mayumi.
Akane frowned, cupping a hand around her chin. (Shinji felt a sensation of dread crawling up his back.) "Well, gossip being what it is, of course our class wondered...once it became known you had transferred to Tokyo-3, some classmates thought you had something to do with Gendo Ikari, You know, the head of that organization called NERV?" (The dread scratched at his neck.) "I didn't really buy it though, because all the rumors about these 'Evangelions' were...crazy. And you...well, weren't."
"Weren't? Weren't what?" asked Mana, crossing her arms.
"Crazy," casually answered Akane. "Ikari-san wasn't much for that kind of stuff. Quiet, kept to himself, mostly." She briefly looked at him, as though remembering he was actually present. "Well, it's the truth."
The Beast smiled knowingly.
"It always comes back to Gendo Ikari, doesn't it?"
Far in the distance, the man cast a shadow.
"Your father...what a joke..."
Gendo Ikari: the symbol of his bondage, bringing naught but perdition.
"You will never be free of him."
"...can we talk about something else?" Shinji tried not to sound like he was pleading. Honestly. "I...I wanted to show you guys a bit of the place I grew up." (A place that he now realized had utterly passed him by, back then, for all that it stuck to him. What was wrong with you?) "Just for a little while...can we leave that stuff be, for now?" After all, there was no doubt that it would be back with a vengeance in due course.
Akane arched an eyebrow, looking more curious than he could ever recall her being. Mayumi's expression was sympathetic, while Mana had her characteristic mix of vague annoyance and naive scrutiny. Toji looked...understanding, mostly.
Kensuke...opted for action, clapping his hands together. "Sounds like a plan! I'm sure we're all gonna get the details sooner or later, but let's stick with why we're here! What'cha growing in the garden?"
Mayumi nodded, eager to play along. "I'd be interesting in getting my hands dirty...you have extra gloves, I hope?"
Toji shrugged. "I'll pass. But is there anything else we can do around here?"
Akane pointed towards the nearby utility shed. "There should be some sports equipment on the side wall, along with some balls. I have it unlocked, but make sure to put anything back."
"Sweet," said Toji, immediately going inside and rummaging through; he come out with a soccer ball moments later. "This should be a good way to kill time..."
Mana eyed the ball with undeniable interest. "I think I'll stick with Suzuhara."
And so the duo of Toji and Mana hopped over the fence towards the dirt field, where they began kicking a ball back and forth towards each other in increasingly elaborate and complicated ways.
Akane brought out three pairs of old, dirtied gloves that had seen plenty of use in their time; nonetheless, Shinji, Kensuke, and Mayumi slipped them on without complaint.
As Shinji fell into the old task of pulling weeds from the soil (you've done this before...why did none of it stick with you?), he couldn't help but glance out of his peripheral vision: Hasegawa was explaining the different varieties of vegetables they had growing in the Farming Club's plot — tomatoes, aubergines, green onions, shishito peppers, turnips, and daikon radishes for starters — to Aida and Yamagishi. Every so often, however, Akane would look in his direction, as though he were a puzzle that needed solving.
He couldn't blame her, either. I lived here for nearly ten years...so why does it seem so distant...? Why was it that, only now, was he beginning to recognize the impact this place had had on him?
Summoning up a surge of determination, Shinji focused on the task at hand, losing himself in the mindless monotony of it all.
xxxx
Gardening being what it was, time had passed rather quickly. Between weeding, pruning diseased leaves and roots, removing bugs, and harvesting vegetables that had ripened...
("We stagger out the plants in terms of when we plant them," explained Akane to Kensuke and Mayumi as she plucked an eggplant. "That way, we have a rather continuous crop over the growing season instead of a few large harvests.")
...the morning had given way to the afternoon.
Shinji knew they had been out for a while when he looked over his shoulder to see Toji and Mana — yet another burst of competitiveness that he hadn't quite expected to come from those two, of all people — were now trying to see how many times they could bounce the soccer ball off of their head without it dropping.
But all things came to an end, alas. As Akane gathered their pickings into a large paper bag, her father and Ken Amada — holding a plastic bag bearing the logo of the local supermarket — were walking onto the school grounds. Rising to his feet, Shinji looked at Zenkichi Hasegawa and lightly bowed. "Hello, Hasegawa-san. It's...been a while."
"So it has," casually remarked Zenkichi with an easygoing grin (even though there was a shrewdness to his gaze that he had recognized in Akane's eyes as well). "You seem to have done pretty well for yourself over the past two months."
"...I have?"
Ken Amada interjected. "We had a discussion about a number of topics. Hasegawa-san is in the know, for the most part."
"And regarding any 'rumors' about Evangelions and whatnot, I'll make my own judgment based on the evidence at hand," said Zenkichi. "So if you're worried about getting run out of town, don't be."
...well, he hadn't worried about being run out of Nishiawakura before, but now? "Um..."
Akane sighed, shaking her head. "Way to go, dad..."
"What? I was being supportive!" he protested. "A-Anyhow, we should get on back home. There'll be plenty of opportunity to hang out with Ikari and his friends while they're visiting."
Akane glanced back at them, asking, "how long are you going to be here?"
"...we don't exactly have a precise timetable," admitted Kensuke. "Other than the fact we're supposed to be back in Tokyo-3 by the end of the summer break, we're kind of winging it."
"...then I guess I'll see you all later, then." Gathering the ball from Suzuhara and putting all the tools back in the utility shed, she locked the door with a loud 'click.' "Take care everyone. It was nice meeting you."
Mayumi bowed. "Thank you for walking us through the intricacies of vegetable gardening!" she said, sounding sincerely grateful.
Akane nodded towards him before following her father, bag of vegetables in hand. This allowed Ken Amada to finally address them all. "So...there's still a few hours until we're supposed to gather back at Sakura-san's for dinner. I don't know if any of you have eaten, so here," he said, holding out the plastic bag full of various snacks.
"Ah, sweet," exclaimed Toji, grabbing for a packet of rice crackers and tearing into them with abandon.
As the munching commenced, Amada asked, "so what are you all going to do now?"
"...I want to visit the library that we passed on the way here," admitted Mayumi, a bit of hesitance in her tone. "If that's okay...?"
"I'd rather do something else," said Mana before chewing on a handful of fruit gels.
"Plus, it's just a library," remarked Toji. "Not exactly a tourist attraction, you know?"
"...well, there is more of the village to walk through," offered Kensuke. "Maybe we can look around and see if there's places we'd like to visit on another day?"
Mayumi tried not to deflate. "...I suppose-"
"I can accompany Yamagishi-san to the library," said Shinji (because honestly, after spending the past few hours underneath the sun, the cool shade of the library sounded heavenly). "We can rejoin you when you're on your way back to Sakura-sensei's...if that's okay?"
Ken Amada thought about it for a few seconds. "...very well. I'll be able to chaperone the others, but please don't go wandering around. I know this is where you used to live, but...well, I don't need to elaborate on the importance of keeping a low profile right now."
"...right," murmured Shinji, grimly nodding as he nibbled on a potato stick. If nothing else, this would allow him a chance to sort through his own head, because now the mental disconnect about his life spent in Nishiawakura was...very disconcerting, in retrospect.
(He missed the grateful smile that Mayumi shot in his direction.)
Thus did the group split up, with Amada following Toji, Kensuke, and Mana as they walked northward, while Shinji and Mayumi reversed directions towards the library.
xxxx
Meanwhile, as the Hasegawas walked eastward along a winding road lined with old residential dwellings, Zenkichi asked, "so...first time seeing Ikari in two months."
Akane frowned, adjusting her hold on the bag of vegetables. "What are you getting at?"
"Did he seem...different, at all?"
"...kind of," she admitted. "Initiating conversations, asking questions...being relatively lively, compared to how he was normally." Which wasn't much, considering Ikari had been rather...'vacant', as an individual, in her experience. There had been very few exceptions to that trend.
(Upon turning ten years of age, she had tried out a new hairstyle: going from long pigtails to something a bit shorter; something more mature. Then, during lunch, out of nowhere, Ikari had looked at her — eyes blinking, showing actual intention — before blurting out, "your new hair looks nice." So bewildered and flustered had she been by the sudden compliment that she impulsively threw a carton of milk at his face. Nothing more would come of it, alas.)
Had Ikari not looked and sounded the same, she would've been convinced that they were two different people entirely. "Going to Tokyo-3 wouldn't have changed that much, would it?" His reluctance regarding the subject of NERV and Evangelions spoke volumes. "Are the rumors...actually true?"
"...depends on the rumors," admitted Zenkichi. "But I will say this: Ikari, Suzuhara, and Aida are registered Persona-users. The Kirishima girl apparently has access to rather powerful anti-cognition and anti-spiritual weaponry because of some classified project. Yamagishi is the only true civilian of the bunch."
The word 'Persona-users' elicited a startled doubletake from Akane. "Really? How? What happened?! Are they all prospective Agents? How did they get authorized? How-"
"Whoa whoa, easy there," interrupted Zenkichi, holding out his hands in a supposedly calming manner. "Their circumstances are...different, than yours. I still want you to get some more exposure to the Metaverse before we start the process. I want to make sure you have every advantage before taking the Trainee Preliminary Exams."
She sighed explosively. "Dad...all the preparation in the world won't help if I never actually do it..."
Zenkichi smirked. "Well, then I guess that means you don't want to watch me conduct a joint training exercise tomorrow..."
Her eyes widened with excitement at the prospect. "No, I do, I do!"
"That's what I thought."
xxxx
Nishiawakura's local library hadn't changed that much, mused Shinji. Compared to the great expanse covered by Hakone Academy's own library (and that was just for the Junior High Branch; he hadn't actually gone into the High School Branch's own library yet), it was smaller, more rundown. The brickwork and masonry on the outside bore stains from the long passage of time, mostly due to rainfall and discoloration from oxidizing elements in the stonework. Some might have considered the stains unsightly, a sign of poor maintenance; others might have said it offered the building a sense of character.
Shinji's opinion was simpler: it was a sign of age, of something that had been around for a while. How many people had walked inside of this place over the years?
These thoughts percolated and simmered as Mayumi browsed the shelves, looking at the books on offer. For a village focused on lumber and agriculture, it was only natural that there would be a lot of reference manuals — some new, some old — on those topics, covering different facets of those professions; some were thick texts filled with dry and technical language, while others were small pamphlets written in layman's terms. Old encyclopedias and history manuals sat adjacent to Post-Impact literature, which tended to focus on survival strategies, cognitive civil engineering, and proper 'metaphysical etiquette' (whatever that meant) during celestial events. However, one particular section dealt exclusively with old folklore and mythical tales.
Some of the them were very old copies, likely donated by older villagers in years past; some so old that they weren't actually books.
"An orihon," murmured Mayumi with surprise, pulling out the plastic case containing a long paper folded together like an accordion. Even in spite of the preservative casing, the age of the paper itself was apparent. "...amazing...I wonder how old this is...?"
Shinji read various titles, recognizing most of them due to their prominence in Japanese history. There were a few local ones as well, that weren't as widely known. "...do you ever wonder how stories get started...?"
"...that's a good question," said Mayumi, locks of her hair slipping over her shoulders. "...did they hallucinate them? Were they flights of fancy, which they told out of amusement? Or maybe...some of them actually happened, but the details became grander with each retelling. I mean...we live in a world where we can access a world born from our minds..."
Shinji nodded, acknowledging the inherent craziness of it all. "...but we still keep living..."
"...but that can be difficult, can it?" She glanced down at the folded leaflet, which bore the title of Hachikazuki. "You seemed...uncomfortable, around Akane Hasegawa."
Shinji inwardly winced. "Well...I don't know what sort of Evangelion rumors she was talking about...and now that her father apparently knows about what we've been through...I guess I'm worried about their perception of me changing." Even if that perception had been of some numb and dull automaton.
"...is that a bad thing?" asked Mayumi.
"...I don't know. I'm not sure myself," he admitted.
"Do you like the person you've become?"
He thought about it. "...I want to say yes." After all, hadn't he sworn to become a better human being? "But...to hear Sakura-sensei and Hasegawa-san...I used to be very different, when growing up here." So different that he honestly hadn't even realized how, much less why. "And the thought of changing that much...it's almost like the 'Shinji Ikari' that lived here for nearly ten years no longer exists." For a given definition of 'exists', anyway. (Could you even call your time here a 'life'?)
His Other flipped through the pages of a book.
"The past is set in stone. Nothing can change that."
The book was titled 'The Tale of Shinji Ikari.'
"...but the meaning you take from it can always change..."
"...does that scare you?" asked Mayumi.
"A little."
The bespectacled girl sat down on a bench, her lips set into a neutral yet solemn expression. "...if you don't withdraw from everything, I think change is inevitable...life seemed relatively stable, before you transferred to Tokyo-3. Life in the Literature Club...had been simple. Stagnant. But I was okay with that. I was content with that. And now, here I am on a road trip...with people that I think I can call friends...and getting thrown into danger...and I wonder what the Mayumi of last week would have thought of it all, much less the Mayumi from the beginning of June."
(Ah yes, yet another reminder that his status as the Third Child had nearly gotten his peers in a whole heap of trouble in the Metaverse.) "I'm sorry-"
"It's okay," she interrupted. "You didn't have any clue that all of this would happen...and I think you're the kind of person who wants a pretty simple life, all things considered...but life just doesn't want to cooperate, does it?"
He nodded, because it was so very true. "...is it the same for you, Yamagishi-san?"
She didn't answer immediately; she just simply unfolded the leaflet in her hands, which showed hiragana characters written with ink in a flowing style, accompanied by very classical art. "...I think some of these stories stick with us because of the message they convey...or perhaps because they represent an ideal that we want so very much to be true. Like Hachikazuki; the main character is a girl who ends up wearing a bowl over her head, to hide her noble beauty. She wears the bowl as a vow made to her dying mother as a young woman...and as the years go by, she ends up in the household of a lord, working as a handmaid. When her beauty is merely glimpsed by one of the lord's sons, he becomes enamored with her...and after attaining victory in a contest of brides, the bowl comes off of her head, revealing her beauty to all." She paused, collecting her thoughts. "I'm paraphrasing and skipping over a lot of details...but the bowl she wore was the source and symbol of a lot of hardship for her. A source of mockery and derision from those around her...and when I first read it, I always wondered why it was so hard for the bowl to be taken off, because it seemed so simple. But I also...admired that sort of life, where removing a bowl was all it would take for people to recognize the worth of the woman underneath...because a lot of these older tales equate physical beauty and perfection with one's value, after all..."
"...well, you're certainly not ugly, Yamagishi-san," Shinji readily admitted. (Calling her 'pretty' felt like a step too far, because that would be rather forward.)
Mayumi's face flushed red. "...thank you, but that's not quite what I was getting at...the idea of being someone worthwhile, of having value for who you are, and not for what you outwardly seem to be...I just wished it was that easy to change, in reality...but I guess we both know that's not the case, isn't it?"
"...I guess not," he relented. "But...what could you be dealing with, Yamagishi-san? You may be reserved, and you may prefer books to people most of the time...but is that really so bad of a thing? I mean...compared to Evangelion..." That sort of struggle just seemed so much smaller, so much less significant. (But saying that out loud would be rude.) So he settled for asking "what are you facing, to make you feel that way?"
Mayumi's smile was a sad and bitter thing to witness. "I wouldn't want to bother you. I don't think it's anything you can help with, anyway."
(Little did Shinji know about the inner turmoil within the girl's soul. Little did he know of the thing that crept and crawled beneath placid ground.)
(Little did he know of the sheer otherness that creature conveyed, by which Mayumi Yamagishi felt cut off from her fellow man by the mere act of existing.)
(Alas, he did not know, and so he could only offer platitudes.) "...well, I'm here if you ever change your mind."
"I appreciate that," she said with a grateful nod.
They ended up reading various folk tales to pass the time (with Shinji memorably recoiling over a gruesome depiction of a kuchisake-onna, a malicious spirit in the guise of a woman with a mouth slit from ear to ear), until the text message came from Kensuke Aida that they were about to pass back by the library.
Though there was still daylight, the sun had descended beneath the nearby mountains by the time they departed.
xxxx
The Hakone Caravan had gathered back in the entrance hall of Sojiro Sakura's home; the man himself was in the kitchen, preparing dinner using the leftover ingredients from his work at the cafe.
(His sensei asked, "I'm not used to making dinner for so many people, so can someone give me a hand?" He had not expected for Amamiya-senpai to stand up and offer his services in helping Sojiro with the preparations.)
"So, we've gotten the overall lay of the land, and the local A.T. Agent is in the loop for the most part," explained Ryuji Sakamoto, tapping his fingers on his bum leg. "Still no word on the ultimate fallout from the ferry, so we'll still have to keep our eyes and ears open..."
"But more importantly," interrupted Junpei Iori with a grin, "did you kids actually enjoy yourselves? Little places like this are a nice change of pace, if I'm gonna be honest."
"...well, I saw a few places to visit during our walk earlier, and I enjoyed it," remarked Kensuke, deciding to break the ice first. "Plus, this place has hot springs! A trip to an onsen is a summer vacation staple!"
Shinji blinked, recalling the location in question. Ah...that's right. Sakura-sensei took me here a few times. Usually during the colder months, now that he remembered. (Yet another experience forgotten, as though it had never been. What was wrong with you?)
Toji shrugged. "Yesterday was pretty crazy, but we came out of it alive. So long as we stay away from that sort of thing, I think I'll be fine."
Mana, who was quietly polishing LABRYS and AIGIS (and boy, had Sakura-sensei raised an eyebrow when he had first laid eyes on the giant axe and shield), calmly added, "I ended up hitting Suzuhara in the head a bunch with a football. So that was fun, I guess."
"Of course," snorted Toji.
"...I enjoyed our outing," admitted Mayumi. "It was...enlightening. And Hasegawa-san was nice."
"Speaking of which, tomorrow is going to be one where we're going to engage in a bit of Metaverse training alongside Agent Hasegawa. Apparently, he wants his daughter to get a glimpse of how teenage Persona-users can fight before he lets her move forward with the Trainee Preliminary Exams," explained Ken Amada.
Kensuke adjusted his eyeglasses with interest. "So she's prepping for that, huh? That's...nostalgic," he said, ending in a quiet murmur.
"...I guess I'll be staying behind, then?" asked Mayumi.
Sakamoto shared a meaningful glance with Iori and Amada before replying, "given that you've already been in the Metaverse twice...even though you don't have a Persona, Hasegawa's daughter doesn't either. Since we're all going to be in the Metaverse, we'll be able to keep an eye on you. But only if you follow all of our instructions to the letter. We clear?"
Mayumi nodded, though somewhat unsure.
"Good. As for our upcoming itinerary...there's not really much of one," admitted the Cognitive Freelancer. "The Olympics come to an end in less than a week, so maybe we can take a quick trip to Okayama for some of the closing ceremonies...maybe. Depends."
Amada cleared his throat. "Well, my wife is going to be travelling through the area on Friday; the Featherman Z tour is currently in Okayama, but their next stop is Tottori. I'm sure they wouldn't mind stopping here for a lunch date-"
"-wait a second," interrupted Kensuke, eyes wide with dawning realization. "Ken 'Amada'...your wife wouldn't happen to be Yukari Amada, would it?"
"Yes, actually," he admitted.
"The director and showrunner for Bishoujo Senshi Featherman Z...is your wife?! How has this not been mentioned before now?!"
Amada shrugged. "It just never came up, I suppose."
"Mostly because he knew it would inevitably lead to cougar jokes at his expense," joked Iori. At Amada's impulsive glare, Junpei raised his hands in defense. "Hey, joking ain't judging! There's nothing wrong with seeking out an older woman-"
"Junpei."
"Yes Kenny?"
"...shut up."
"Oh so you two are like that too," observed Toji, shooting a glare towards Kensuke. "How relatable."
Mana finally blinked, as though her brain had just caught up with the recent turn in conversation. "...you mean to tell me that the Feathermen Z team is going to be here? Like...all of them? Ruby Robin, Emerald Eagle, Sapphire Swan, Opal Owl, and Diamond Dove?" When Amada nodded, she also added, "Pearl Phoenix?"
"Yes."
Mana abruptly dropped to the floor and bowed so hard that she slammed her face into the floor. "Please give me a chance to see them. PLEASE. Do I have to pay? I think I can ask Katsuragi for money!"
Aida couldn't help but cackle at the sudden display of 'weaponized fangirl' from the normally brusque Kirishima. The display elicited open stares from Yamagishi and Suzuhara, and amused chuckles from Sakamoto and Iori.
As for Shinji? Well, he was simply glad that she was showing such unadulterated excitement for something so...simple.
And now he was suddenly realizing the smell coming from the kitchen. It's been a while since I had sensei's curry...
xxxx
Ren Amamiya knew that he couldn't hide from Sojiro Sakura forever. While they were all staying at the man's house, it just wouldn't be practical.
Hence why he had volunteered to help with the preparation of dinner. Exposure was the best way of getting over his own trepidation. (Hopefully. Fingers crossed!)
As such, a little bit of his charm as a curry chef and barista had been called for.
(The old man had been reasonably skeptical at his claims that he could make even a halfway decent curry. However, when he had begun making the roux with practiced ease, Sakura had ceased his premature criticism.)
"I have to make a few varieties for the local clientele," explained Sojiro as he stirred his own particular pot, "but your recipe isn't one I'm familiar with."
How ironic, ruefully thought Ren. Outwardly, he answered, "I once had a part-time job of sorts at a hole-in-the-wall kind of place. Came to see the owner as a bit of a mentor; he had his own particular recipe. It was the only one he offered, but it was so good that no one ever complained."
"Seems a bit limited, but if it works, it works." As Ren stirred in the dark chocolate and greek yogurt to cut down on the kick, Sakura asked, "mind if I have a sample? I want to make sure you're not going to poison my guests."
And the acerbic sense of humor's the same. He didn't say this, of course; he simply bowed theatrically and stepped out of the way. The old-timer took a fresh spoon and took a tentative sip of the curry; the wide eyes and impulsive 'hmm?!' were telling enough. "...your mentor must have been quite the connoisseur, because this is...excellent." Without Shinji Ikari or any of the other kids present, he apparently felt no need to temper his praise.
"And he'd say that it wasn't his own," admitted Ren. "He credited his special lady for perfecting the recipe."
The old man actually loosed a laugh. "And wise, at that! I think I'd like to meet him."
"...he's no longer with us, I'm afraid," he diplomatically said. (Even if this Sojiro Sakura had that same identifiable core that Ryuji had, that Haru had, that so many of his past Confidants had...there were still too many differences. This was a Sojiro who had never known Wakaba Isshiki, as far as he knew. This was a Sojiro that had never raised Futaba. This was not the same crotchety geezer that had taken Akira Kurusu in, and served as a surrogate father without really even trying that hard.)
"Ah...sorry. That's quite a shame," he said with honest remorse.
"...but I think he'd have no problem with me sharing the recipe," he offered with a tiny grin.
"I'd be quite honored then," said Sakura with a gracious smile.
Oh, the irony. It took everything Ren had to not laugh.
(It went without saying that everyone enjoyed the curry, and went to bed happy and satisfied.)
(For a given definition of happy and satisfied, anyhow.)
xxxx
END OF 8/3/2015
xxxx
Author's Note: Boy, Shinji's mind just can't get a break. And neither can Ren's.
But hey, at least Hermit reached Rank 5!
Speaking of which, reminder of where the Social Links currently stand as of 8/3!
FOOL (Igor): Rank 3
MAGICIAN (Kensuke Aida): Rank 4
PRIESTESS (Rei Ayanami): Rank 4
EMPRESS (Hikari Horaki): Rank 2
EMPEROR (Mister P/Pen-Pen): Rank 2
HIEROPHANT (Kōzō Fuyutsuki): Rank 4
LOVERS (?): Not Yet Unlocked
CHARIOT (Toji Suzuhara): Rank 3
STRENGTH (Mana Kirishima): Rank 2
JUSTICE (MAGI): Rank 4
FORTUNE (Goro Akechi): Rank 3
HERMIT (Mayumi Yamagishi): Rank 5
HANGED MAN (Ryoji Kaji): Rank 1
DEATH (Kaworu Nagisa): Rank 2
TEMPERANCE (?): Not Yet Unlocked
DEVIL (Gendo Ikari): Rank 5
TOWER (Keel Lorenz): Rank 4
STAR (Sokila): Rank 3
MOON (Ritsuko Akagi): Rank 4
SUN (Misato Katsuragi): Rank 4
JUDGEMENT (The Wild Card Trio): Rank 1