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1 January 2010 begins in the cold and not-quite-dark. Kotone pushes herself upward in her bed and spares a bleary-eyed glance at her alarm clock - forty-five minutes before it’s due to go off. Frustrating to wake up now, when sunrise is not far away and going back to bed will fetch no more than a few minutes’ comfort. An echo of panic passes through her mind, of a long-awaited deadline and a decision to be made, but quickly subsides; she still remembers everything; she’s still her. The faint glow of the clock’s digits highlights a little circle on the desktop next to it - the ring Ryoji left her last night. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she pulls on a pair of shoes and slips the ring in the pocket of her pajamas.Kotone nudges her door open in a fumbling effort to keep its motion as quiet as she can, and tiptoes down the hallway. A soft electric hum from the vending machine is the only other sound; its illuminated display casts a whitish-blue glow over the staircase. She reaches the front door without switching on the lights in the lounge, its long black shadows slowly, imperceptibly giving way to grays and blues. Her first step out the door crunches. A thin layer of snow covers the entire street; there aren’t even any tire tracks to reveal the pavement in the middle of the road. It must have fallen after Ryoji left, as Kotone can see no footprints in it besides her own - but then again, he did say something about becoming intangible. Maybe he doesn’t even leave footprints anymore. Judging by how quickly most everyone at school forgot about him, maybe the ring she reaches for in her pocket is the only sign left that he ever lived.She’s not at all dressed for the cold, and knows she’ll head back inside soon, but something about the familiar sight of the street outside the dorm is magnetic. There’s a personal quality to the pristine sheet of snow on the sidewalk and parked cars; like the world, tumbling towards its end though it might be, still has something to show to her and her alone.Kotone spends a moment watching the puffs of mist rise from her nose and mouth and disappear against the sky; rich, deep blue in one direction, pale orange in the other. In the stillness she feels something alight on her arm - a butterfly.Strange, but it seems to be both real and alive; its thin blue wings open and close slowly atop a scrawl of legs and feelers. Kotone watches it intently, careful not to move suddenly enough to shake it loose. Perhaps the red sleeve of her pajama top recalled the color of some flower? There weren’t any real flowers to be found at the moment, certainly. Wait, did butterflies even see in color? She couldn’t remember.Before long an icy breeze blows down the street; Kotone shivers with her whole body. Dislodged from her arm, the butterfly is caught on the wind and in moments it is gone. It’s as good a reason as any to go back inside. As soon as she shuts the door she can feel someone staring at her. “Kotone-san,” Aigis addresses her with characteristic formality, giving her a slight bow.Kotone ought to have expected this. Does Aigis even sleep?“Ambient exterior temperature last measured at negative three point six degrees Celsius,” she announces. “Continued exposure to such conditions in your current attire presents an unacceptable health risk.”“Oh, come on, I’m fine, it wasn’t like I was going to stay out there,” Kotone protests in response, blowing into her cupped hands and rubbing them together as she kicks the snow off her shoes.Aigis manages to sound a little hurt. “Your protection is my highest priority.”Kotone sighs. “I know, and I appreciate it. Want to help me cook breakfast?”“Notify me before you leave next time and I will procure a scarf and boots for your safety.”“Right.”

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14 January Kotone emerges, blinking in the sunlight, from the bar down the stairs behind Port Island Station, the drink Elizabeth had asked for in hand. It was kind of an interesting place - definitely the sort of spot where she’d meet an important contact if she was a private eye in a movie - but if she stayed too long, eventually someone at school would find out she had been there and there’d be no end to it. As it is now she has to carry a full cocktail shaker all the way to the Velvet Room, and that’s awkward enough.At least there aren’t many people around in the alley. A few handbills promoting the Nyx cult blow in the wind across the bare concrete. A surly-looking young man with a nose ring and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth stops one with his foot. She’d been planning to pass him by without a word, but he calls out to her. “You see this shit?” He stoops down to pick up the flier and crumples it in his hand. “These fucking posters everywhere.”Well, it’s nice to find someone outside of SEES who finds them as annoying as she does. Turning to him, she answers, “Yeah, every time I rip one down two more pop up in the same spot.”“Tell me about it.” The punk throws the crumpled-up paper towards a nearby trash bin; it bounces off the side. “Shit!”He takes a drag on his cigarette. “I wouldn’t normally give a shit, but you know who’s in charge of these Nyx guys? That fuckin’ freak!”Curious, Kotone pipes up. “Which freak is that?”Wreathed in blue cigarette smoke, the punk answers. “He used to show up here all the time. Long hair, tattoos, hated wearing a shirt. Thought he was such hot shit. None of us wanted to start any shit with him ‘cos he always had a gun tucked into his pants.”Well there’s only one person that could be - Kotone doesn’t like him either, though for very different reasons.“And now these idiots think he’s their savior! It’s like the worst fuckin’ joke! Dude’s like one sneeze away from blowing his own nuts off every time he struts on through here, and people think he’s some kind of fuckin’ guru or some shit! I hate it!”He pauses, dropping his cigarette on the ground and running a hand through greasy black hair, seemingly a little embarrassed by his rant. “Ugh, you’re one of those Gecko kids, huh? Not like you have to deal with crap like this.”Kotone smiles. “You’d be surprised. The expensive uniforms don’t make us any smarter.”The punk grinds his boot over the end of his cigarette. “Actually… what’s the opposite of the end of the world?” he asks.“Huh?”“Well, I figure if that freak’s spendin’ all day preachin’ the end of the world now, the best way to get back at him is to believe the opposite, right?”He isn’t altogether wrong, Kotone decides. “Sure, I can see it. Don’t quite know what the opposite of the end of the world would really look like, though. Beginning of the world? Something really hopeful like that?”“Right, but… shit, I gotta think about this.”Kotone turns and takes a few steps towards the exit from the alley.As she leaves, the punk yells to her, “hey, come back sometime! I’m gonna be hopeful as shit next time you see me!” Kotone’s smile lasts her all the way to the Velvet Room.

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23-24 January At this late hour, Kotone has decided, the most frustrating times are when there’s nothing to do. Realistically, there’s no way to always be preparing for when Nyx finally arrives, and she wouldn’t really want there to be. Yet at idle moments, some small part of her mind can’t stop urging her onward, to keep finding things to do - before the fear sets back in. So it is as the last bell of school rings in the afternoon, and she leans back in her seat, letting the pencil in her hand drop to the floor. Fuuka is sure that the top of Tartarus is within reach, but for the moment they can climb it no higher; the tower is stubborn that way. Six sets of military-grade ballistic armor are on their way to Kurosawa at the police station, but he can’t get them to ship any faster; there’s no point bothering him about it before Tuesday. Even the first-aid classes she’s been taking at the community center are done for the week. Well, there is one thing, though it’s not strictly S.E.E.S. related. Finding people at school is second nature at this point - she gets up from her desk to go track down Mitsuru.Ever since she started to get to know her better, Kotone has thought that the awestruck admirers who wait outside the student council room to see Mitsuru are a bit silly, so she’s glad to catch up with her outside the library and not have to act too much like them - besides what she’s about to ask her for, anyway.“Mitsuru-senpai, can I ask you for a favor real quick?”She tilts her head inquiringly as she turns to look at Kotone.“Go ahead.”“So, um,” Kotone starts. They were just talking about this a few days ago, it really shouldn’t feel so awkward to bring up. “We’re not going to let the world end, all of us have agreed. So it’s silly to think of things you’d like to do before you die, or things we need to do before the 31st, or anything like that. But.” She adjusts the clips in her hair a little.“But?” Mitsuru projects an expression of total neutrality; it must be a boardroom thing, Kotone supposes, to convince people that she’s unbiased while she listens to their proposals.“But I’d really like to ride your motorcycle with you!” Kotone spits out.Mitsuru makes a thin little smile.“I think we could do that. Meet me at the corner store down the street from dorm tomorrow morning.”“Really?” Kotone floats on a little wave of relief.“Certainly; we do have the day off tomorrow. Now if you’ll excuse me.”She hurries off, dialing numbers into her phone as she goes. — The winter sun is low but strong as Kotone arrives at the appointed location. After the snowstorms earlier in the month the temperature has spiked back up again, leaving piles of snow to slowly drip down into puddles of brown slush, but clear blue skies offer some compensation for the aesthetic loss. Aigis had insisted that she wear gloves regardless. She briefly ducks inside the convenience store for a coffee; the last few drops are rolling down her throat when Mitsuru pulls up to the curb in front of her.“Good morning, Kotone.” That thin little smile is back. So is the helmet Kotone saw Mitsuru wearing back when they were fighting the first full moon Shadows, decorated with a tidy checkerboard pattern. She must have tied up her hair or something, because it’s barely visible behind a long scarf. A second helmet, finished in matte black, is under Mitsuru’s arm; she hands it over to Kotone.Kotone inspects it in her hands; it’s nothing like the one Mitsuru has on. The first thing she notices is the fire-breathing snake, painted on the left side in green and silver. On the right side are several stickers for motorcycle events and organizations Kotone has never heard of; and on the back, Roman numerals spelling out the number thirteen, and the name “Kikuno.” She looks up at Mitsuru and tries to hold back laughter.“I asked the head maid where I could find a spare motorcycle helmet. She just smiled and gave me this,” Mitsuru explains.“Your maid, huh?”“It seems she has some interests that I was not previously aware of,” Mitsuru smiles.“Well I don’t mind wearing it, I’m just not sure what I’ll say if we get arrested.”“In that case I’ll be sure to keep us out of trouble. Did you have a destination in mind?” Mitsuru offers.Come to think of it, Kotone sort of doesn’t. There’s an awkward pause.“Oh, right!” she exclaims with a flash of inspiration. “Rio was talking up some new bakery on the far side of the bridge the other day. We could bring everybody cake! Or something.”This outburst is enough to earn a genuine laugh from Mitsuru. “Very well, shall we?” Kotone straps on the helmet and climbs onto the bike, wrapping her arms around Mitsuru. The engine fires, and they push off into the street. She catches the dorm out one corner of her eye as it flashes past, and the engine hums - hums, not rumbles like the motorcycles in an American road movie, but that’s okay - as they pick up speed.Having never ridden a motorcycle before, Kotone isn’t quite sure what to expect. Above all, it turns out to be a very physical experience of motion. The cool air blowing past her face pushes her eyes into a squint; she smells the grease venting out of the chimney when they pass in front of a Wild-Duck Burger, and feels the dust in the air when they pass a construction site. They lean into the turns, and the street signs and mailboxes that rush by feel close enough to reach out and touch. In some places the pavement is wet from melting snowbanks; the motorcycle’s tires throw up quick little drops of water that catch the sun for the briefest instant. The ride is exhilarating until they come up on the ramp to Moonlight Bridge. There’s road work, and six lanes of traffic have to merge down to two; a growing line of vehicles of all sizes stretches out from the bridge, and it’s all Mitsuru can do to not get boxed in by tractor trailers. A dump truck attempts to pull into traffic from the site of the road work, but gets cut off by a driver in a smaller car and brakes hard in front of them; presumably unseen by the trucker, all of a sudden Kotone and Mitsuru have almost nowhere to go. Mitsuru coolly points the bike towards a gap to their right - directly at a pothole full of muddy water.“Sorry about this,” Mitsuru manages to yell in the moments before impact; both she and Kotone brace themselves. And then they’re on the other side of the pothole, heading for an open lane. Kotone looks down at the turning wheels; no bump, no splash, nothing. No sign from Mitsuru, either - her concentration on the road seems awfully hard to break.They’re up on the bridge now, and the wavering gleam of the sun on the ocean is enough to push aside Kotone’s bad memories of the place, for now. A little white triangle catches her eye in the distance; a sailboat. Huge steel cables slide past in a regimented rhythm, and wait - isn’t there something else that should be happening? A few seconds’ thought, and she realizes she hasn’t felt the expansion joints. When she has ridden buses across this bridge, there is always a regular badump, badump as each section passes under the wheels. She looks down at the motorcycle’s wheel once more, then at the shadow it casts against the surface of the road.The wheels are still turning, but they’re not in contact with the road anymore; they’re floating. Over the din of hundreds of spinning tires, she shouts - “Senpai, are you seeing this?”“Yes.” Mitsuru responds. “Just… keep hanging on, please.”By the time they reach the far end of the bridge, they’re high enough above the road that the bottoms of the bike’s wheels are level with some of the smaller cars’ windows. Kotone can see other drivers looking at them in obvious confusion. Should she start making up excuses yet, she wonders.Mitsuru signals for a right turn and tilts the handlebars as though she were trying to make the first exit ramp off the bridge under normal circumstances. Kotone momentarily panics - she may sleep through Takenozuka’s physics lectures sometimes, but she’s pretty sure the tires have to be on the ground for things like steering and braking to work - but then, physics says motorcycles don’t just randomly start to fly in the first place. Indeed the bike duly makes the turn, and comes to a halt right on, or rather above, the white line when they come up on a stop sign at the bottom of the ramp.Kotone voices the obvious question as they float along the street. “So, uh, what happens now?”First, Mitsuru glides the motorcycle over to a lamppost, and Kotone wraps her arms around it before gingerly lifting herself clear of her seat on the bike. She slides down the lamppost to the sidewalk, dusts herself off, and takes a deep breath before reaching up and grabbing the front tire of the motorcycle, pulling it down as hard as she can.It’s an odd sensation - akin to pulling a helium balloon back to earth. Yet like a helium balloon, the motorcycle seems to have very little mass, and as Kotone pulls, it descends to the street. Once the tires are touching the pavement once more, Mitsuru shuts off the engine and dismounts the wayward bike.They both stare at it, as though it might bounce back into the air again with no warning. Mitsuru and Kotone take a couple of steps backward, then a breath of wind blows down the street. The motorcycle skips and slides along the ground like an autumn leaf. Kotone leaps forward to grab it before it gets any farther.“Perhaps we would best be served walking the motorcycle the rest of the way,” Mitsuru suggests. So they continue on foot, Mitsuru with the motorcycle on the edge of the street, and Kotone on the sidewalk.“I apologize, this ride probably did not meet your expectations.” Mitsuru says, turning away from Kotone.“What? No way!” Kotone shakes her head. “I had fun! I guess I’m a little worried that we’ll show up in grainy cell phone video on the evening news, though.”“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Mitsuru replies calmly. “Things like this have happened before. Most people prefer to assume things are normal. They’ll see a few pictures, figure it’s some sort of fake or trick, and move on, in the absence of further information.”“You think so?” To Kotone that assumption seems a little blasé, what with the whole city being a monument to irrationality at the moment.“Perhaps, perhaps not. The important thing is that we can’t let anything like that distract us right now.”“True enough.”By the time they reach it Kotone has almost forgotten about the bakery in all the confusion, but there it stands in front of them on the street all the same. It has a certain fashionable look to it, with a striped awning over the door and a hand-lettered chalk sign announcing the day’s specials on the sidewalk. She strides up to the doors, then registers that her companion is no longer with her.“Mitsuru?” She turns around.Mitsuru is still in the street, unwinding her scarf. She loops it around the motorcycle’s front wheel and then around a nearby street sign, and ties it off in a neat little knot.“Gotta keep the motorcycle from blowing away, huh?” Kotone murmurs as Mitsuru approaches.“A problem few have had before, I expect,” Mitsuru replies with a sly half-smile. Kotone laughs in return; “problems few have had before” describes S.E.E.S.’ experience pretty well recently. They look back out over the street and the parked motorcycle, waiting for the bakers to finish filling their order.“You’re right that we shouldn’t get too distracted, but…” Kotone begins, then trails off.“It’s only reasonable to be curious,” Mitsuru answers. “All I can think of is that my motorcycle was modified to function during the Dark Hour, and we now know the Dark Hour is connected to Nyx.”“And Nyx is a week away.”“If Mochizuki is to be believed. So perhaps components in the motorcycle are reacting to that somehow,” Mitsuru continues.“By flying?”“By flying.”“You know, Mitsuru, you’re really good at keeping a straight face.”“It’s a skill.” When they return to the dorm, laden with six boxes of scones, cakes, and croissants, they take a taxicab.

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9-10 January On days like this it’s difficult to shake off the sensation of being watched.Back when she lived in Yokohama, during her first year of middle school, Kotone walked past a boutique on her way to class. There was usually a mannequin on display right by the open door of the shop, and as she caught a glimpse of it out of the corner of her eye, she’d reflexively think that someone was there, coming out of the store. However many times she took a second look and determined no one was in fact present, her subconscious never quite accepted that judgment.Seeing the Apathy Syndrome patients (or to put it with more of a rhetorical flourish, the Lost) around the city, it’s like she’s back in Yokohama again. A dozen times a day, some instinctive, animal part of her brain tells her, “look out, he’s watching you!” and a dozen more times, she reminds herself that no, Apathy Syndrome cases aren’t really watching anyone. Some days, it’s enough to inspire some pathos, but other times, she’s just too tired to care.There’s a number people are supposed to call now when they see an Apathy Syndrome sufferer, Kotone has tried using it a few times. It’s run by the police; dial it up, give them the person’s location and description, and some overworked rookie cop, who tends to sound pretty apathetic himself, promises they’ll at least get the poor fool out of the cold.Judging by the number of Lost Kotone sees just on her way to school and back, those promises must be pretty flexible. In fairness, the police have a lot to do. Maybe they have to give priority to those cases who end up in the middle of crosswalks in the street, or standing past the yellow line on the train platform. Kotone counts five - no, six - people with Apathy Syndrome outside the mall as she waits for Fuuka to finish taking care of some club business after school. The plan is to buy some ingredients at a nearby market and make cookies in the dorm kitchen - sweet things seem to be good for team morale on long trips up Tartarus. People come and go, but Kotone notices they don’t seem to like to linger. For the occasional passing moment, there’s no one to be seen from her place sitting on a bench except the Lost. Isn’t this what Ryoji said the end of the world would look like? It’s a bit underwhelming, if that’s the case. For a little while she’s almost petulant; she chose to face this inevitable end with her eyes wide open, so it should at least be something worth looking at. “Kotone?” Fuuka’s voice snaps her back to the present; the city is back to life, for now.“Yeah, let’s go. Got lost in thought for a second…”—The chime at the supermarket door beeps as they exit, laden with flour, sugar, and butter. There’s some kind of flash sale, and a whole lot of shoppers have shown up at once; having an extra person along, even a small one like Fuuka, is useful in parting the mob. Out of what Kotone can only presume to be some combination of nerves and excitement at the prospect of cooking, Fuuka is in a talkative mood. All Kotone can do is try to keep up.“…so wait, can the dough go bad?” Fuuka asks as they step out onto the crowded sidewalk.“Eh, it should keep for as long as we need it to if we freeze it,” Kotone replies.“Oh! Do you think Mr. Ekoda would like these? I could freeze the dough until exam week and then give him some, and maybe…”“I don’t think Ekoda likes anything. I can see Ms. Toriumi being into that though.”“Hey look out!”A bicycle courier is weaving his way down the street at a daring speed, scattering pedestrians as he goes. Fuuka and Kotone duck out of his path in a tangle of legs, scarves, and grocery bags, colliding with another shopper; in the commotion, somebody’s bag spills, scattering bottled tea and cans of soup and fruit all over the sidewalk. Dusting herself off, Fuuka fumes. “Some people are so rude!”“Haha, you’re too nice,” Kotone responds. “I’d have harsher words for the guy than that, but he’s already gone.” Bending down, she starts picking up the tea bottles on the ground.“Um… we’re sorry, can we help you …ma’am?” Fuuka’s voice goes from uncertain to apologetic to uncertain again in the space of a few words; Kotone turns to look.The woman whose bag they’d spilled is standing, not quite straight, in front of Fuuka, completely still save for half-filled grocery bags swinging slowly back and forth off of her arm. Looking at or somewhere just past middle age, her bright maroon sweater stands in sharp contrast to her face and hair, which seem somehow colorless even against the gray afternoon sky.“Oh… she’s got Apathy Syndrome…” Fuuka’s face softens in concern. She crouches down and starts picking up more spilled groceries. “Maybe she’ll thank us when she wakes up!” she continues with inauthentic optimism.“They don’t remember what happens while they’re Lost,” Kotone responds, returning a sports drink to its place in the woman’s shopping bag. “Junpei and I conducted a very scientific experiment to that effect back in June.” Having replaced all of her errant groceries, Kotone looks at the woman one more time. There’s enough here that it probably isn’t all for her. She wonders - who is waiting for her at home? A daughter, a son, a spouse, a mother? What did they do when she didn’t come back from the supermarket? Do they get along together, or are those people at home, whoever they are, why this woman has Apathy Syndrome now in the first place? Her blank face, tilted upward towards the clouds, betrays no answers. Kotone blinks. Fuuka’s expression of concern is now directed towards her, she notices. She gropes around in her mind for anything less bleak to voice aloud. “But it’s okay, right? Altruism doesn’t require gratitude in return,” she finally manages. Swing and a miss. They pick up their things and resume their walk back to the dorm.—The cookies are a success, despite the awkwardness earlier in the afternoon, and Kotone and Fuuka go to sleep with flour all over their hands and the satisfaction of a job well done. Fuuka dashes off first thing the following morning to mail a container of them to Moriyama’s new address, leaving Kotone to make the trip to school alone. All is as normal until she reaches the Iwatodai train station. The cult graffiti is all over the place and the taxi drivers are impatient, as usual, but the crowd forming outside the station doesn’t just seem to be waiting in line to swipe their tickets and passes at the fare gates. Kotone follows their gazes to the peak of the pitched roof covering the entrance to the station. There’s someone up there - a younger man, in his twenties perhaps. Like the woman from yesterday and the rest of them, he’s motionless, with no expression on his face but a vacant stare up and into the distance. Positioned at the highest point of the roof, he has the look of the figurehead on an old sailing ship, or maybe the marble sculpture on a particularly elaborate mausoleum. Murmurs come from all around Kotone as she approaches the stairs.“How’d he even get up there?”“What’ll they do to get him down?”“Does he really have Apathy Syndrome?”“What a show-off!”Other passers-by point their phone cameras up at him, or point him out to their friends. A few even seem to be trying to work him into their selfie shots somehow. Kotone supposes that everyone needs a little bit of spectacle in their lives, but can’t gawk without feeling a little ghoulish. She boards the monorail to school and attempts to put the incident out of her mind. At school, Ms. Toriumi shows rare professionalism, once more pretending that she knows absolutely nothing about any mysterious ailments or cults or this whole “Fall” thing. In fact at one memorable juncture, she requests that one student write her an essay about the inevitable end of the world if he’s so convinced that it’s going to happen, and stop distracting the rest of the class about it. Although Kotone silently applauds her efforts, between lectures she still hears gossip from a couple seats away from hers - “you see that guy on the roof at the station this morning?” Poor fellow - he’s a celebrity and he’ll never even know it. On her way back to the dorm after school, Kotone looks again up towards the Iwatodai station roof, but this time there is no one to be seen.

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15 January “So, should we be worried about this?” Kotone jabs her chopsticks in the direction of the square outside. Junpei looks up from his bowl in response.They’re sitting at a narrow counter at Hagakure, facing the front window beneath a buzzing neon “OPEN” sign. In the plaza adjoining Iwatodai station in front of them, a small group of youths seems to be drawing some kind of pentagram on the pavement with string and chalk. They look like Gekkoukan students, though not all of them wear the full uniform. One of them lights a candle; Kotone recognizes her from some Student Council meetings as the president of the Paranormal Club.“I wouldn’t sweat it,” Junpei answers after a moment. “I’ve played enough video games to know that all the really good summon spells take like three turns to do anything. And I’m pretty sure I can finish this ramen in two.”“You think so?”“Look, the whole reason we’re back here is that finding out about Takaya’s cult shit killed the fun last time. Not happening again, dude.” Junpei takes a big slurp before resuming. “Besides, this type of thing never works out if it gets interrupted. If it looks like an Elder God is about to show up or whatever, just throw the egg from your ramen at them.” Another slurp.“I was wondering why you hadn’t stolen it from me yet,” Kotone remarks.“See? I’m planning ahead.” The conversation pauses as both of them turn their attention back outside. It seems that the Paranormal Club (Kotone assumes) has a little work to do on their geometry - there’s pointing, and shuffling back and forth, and the president has to re-light her candle.“You know, we were never sure if the Paranormal Club actually did anything,” Kotone finally says. “They submitted a budget to the Student Council before the cultural festival and all the line items were for things like ‘Third Eye Sensitivity Training’ and ‘Cosmic Ray Spallation Detectors.’ Hidetoshi insisted that someone was pulling a prank on us, and Chihiro was just amazed that all their numbers added up properly.”Junpei turns to her with a mouth full of noodles. “So they were always this crazy?”“As far as I know.”“Huh.” Junpei seems to lose focus for a second, idly twirling his chopsticks between his fingers, but a faint smile slowly spreads on his face. “That’s good.”“Good?” Kotone lets a little too much skepticism come through in her voice.“I dunno, dude. I think I’m just a little happier with people who were crazy to start with than with people who went crazy from Strega’s dumb cult. Feels more honest.”“I think I get it,” Kotone nods. “But then, no one would be listening to the cult if they were happy. Some of those feelings have to be honest too.”With another lull in the conversation, she takes the chance to catch up on her ramen bowl, although she can’t quite bring herself to eat the egg yet. A few more minutes pass, and now there are six candles, one for each point on the star and another in the center. The occultists, or whatever they are, are standing in a big ring around the outside. Junpei has reached the stage of his ramen bowl where noodles are retrieved one at a time in an unsatisfying scavenger hunt through the broth. “You know,” he says, stirring the bowl half-heartedly, “if I were some kind of ancient demon or cosmic force, I’m not sure why candles would help attract me.”He wipes his face. “And I mean look! The wind keeps blowing them out!”“Flickering candlelight gives lots of deep, moody-looking shadows, and it’s easy to make it light people’s faces from below. Looks good on a movie screen,” Kotone suggests.“Heh, I figured you’d think of something like that.”“Didn’t spend half the summer at the film festival for nothing.” She makes a show of moving her bowl aside, and gestures at dusting off her hands. “Oh, are you going to see that new karate movie this weekend? Trailers made it seem like something you’d like.”“In that they were nothing but gunfire and explosions?”“Exactly!” Kotone answers brightly.“You know me too well.” Junpei heaves a loud, fake sigh. “Eh, but I don’t know, I might wait for the DVD. I’m not as into those movies as I used to be.”“You aren’t? Thought I saw you glued to the Bruce Willis marathon the other night,” Kotone teases.Junpei suddenly seems just a little downcast. “I guess I’ve kinda stopped believing the hero can win his family back or fix his drinking problem just by blowing up a lot of terrorists.”Kotone nods. “That’s Hollywood, I guess.”The two of them rise from their stools to pay for their meals over at the other counter; the proprietor is already manning the cash register expectantly.“I s'pose I did hope joining SEES would be like, turning my life into an action movie or something, though.”“Nah, we’re not an action movie. We’re one of those weird arthouse movies where nothing actually happens but there’s this constant psychological tension.”Junpei laughs. “Not really my thing.”“Me neither. Oh look, it started snowing.”Outside, a thin line of new flakes is beginning to pile up on the handrail of the balcony outside Hagakure’s front door.“You’re right,” Junpei says. “Hey, maybe the ritual they’re doing out there is to summon a snowstorm?”They begin the awkward routine of replacing coats and scarves, shuffling towards the door.“Think we’re still good to walk home?” Junpei asks.“We’ve handled worse. Can always stop for coffee or something on the way if we get cold.” Kotone adjusts her scarf.“Can you imagine if they served coffee and ramen here?” Junpei grins. “I’d never need to go anywhere else!” As the door to Hagakure swings shut behind them, Kotone dryly observes, “They’re chanting now.”Junpei hastens his walk towards the stairs. “Shit, man, let’s get out of here.” — The city in a snowstorm takes on a certain austerity. The sky assumes the same whitish tint as the ground; the trees along the sidewalks, having shed their leaves months ago, are indistinct thickets of brownish-gray. Colors grow dim and faded, such exceptions as can be found jarring with their artificiality; the chipped paint on a fire hydrant here, the bright green of a traffic light there. Kotone and Junpei turn onto a side street, then take a shortcut through a park. Though they don’t stop, not completely, the hum of traffic and the echo of crowds seem to grow fainter, and more distant. The world flattens out, and Kotone begins to feel as if she’s walking through a pencil sketch; if not for Junpei’s commentary on the upcoming baseball season somewhere to her right, she’d lose herself in thought. They emerge back on the street two blocks away from the dorm, hardly too soon; the snow is starting to fall a little harder. Kotone adjusts her scarf, looks down to the sidewalk to check for ice, looks back up - and there’s something orange across the street. To be more specific, it’s an orange parka. Its wearer is lying in the snowbank thrown up by plowing the street, with their arms outstretched. Judging by the awkward proportions of the jacket relative to its owner, they can’t be that old.“Yup, that’s what you do with snow!” Junpei says with a grin.“Wait, is that Ken? Ken-kuuun!” Kotone shouts cheerfully.His reaction isn’t what she expected. Ken springs bolt upright with an immediacy that almost suggests reflex, then stands aside from the snowbank and stiffly brushes the snow off his clothes.“Were you perhaps making a snow angel?” Junpei asks.Ken can’t quite seem to meet their eyes. “No! I mean, yes… I don’t know!”Kotone tilts her head inquiringly. “Something wrong?”“No, nothing! I-“ Ken stammers, cutting himself off. “Don’t laugh!”“Hey, what’s to be ashamed of? Nothin’ wrong with playing in the snow! That’s what it’s here for!” They’ve joined Ken on his side of the street, but the volume of Junpei’s voice has yet to adjust to the change.“I don’t know,” Ken replies, chewing his lower lip in concern.“Listen, we just spent an entire meal watching the school Paranormal Club try to summon Beelzebub in front of the train station, so nothing that you do could possibly be absurd enough to make fun of,” Kotone says, trying to catch Ken’s eye.“I know!” Ken answers. “It’s just… I don’t like it when people watch me… Hey, what are you doing?”“Don’t mind me!” Junpei smiles. “Just catchin’ snowflakes on my tongue.”Ken seems unconvinced.“You don’t people watching you?” Kotone asks.Ken looks at his feet. “People watching me do… kid stuff.”“But you are-“ Junpei starts, but Kotone hushes him.“I guess back then I told myself I couldn’t play anymore. I had to-“ Ken stops himself, looking like he’s barely avoiding crying. “So I always felt bad when-“A hastily packed snowball caroms off the hood of Ken’s parka, coming loose into a cloud of powder.“Junpei!” Kotone turns to excoriate him, but Ken is chuckling into his gloved hand, so Kotone has to smile too.“He’s the worst role model, isn’t he?” Kotone laughs.“No way! Follow me and we’ll go places!” Junpei protests. “Like the coffee shop. I’m getting cold.”“Hey yeah, let’s get some hot chocolate!” They leave three sets of footprints in the snow on the sidewalk; side-by-side, if never quite in sync. After a few minutes, Ken speaks up.“Um… sorry I got upset. I- I’ll be okay.”“Nothing to be sorry about.” Kotone gazes unfocused into the white-over-white, trying to think of what to say. Finally she settles on “We’re all still us. No one can change overnight.”Instead of a response, Ken glances up at her - and catches a snowflake on his tongue.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

13 January There are worse places to be than the Gekkoukan school library. Better ones too, perhaps, but the faculty requested extended library hours to help the seniors study for entrance exams, and the rest of the library committee is busy or absent. So here she is.Kotone sheds her schoolbag onto the front desk; there’s plenty of time for homework, so it can wait a minute. Instead she walks, without any particular direction, through the bookshelves. As school libraries go, this one isn’t bad. One of the benefits of the school building only being ten years old is that there’s decent heating and air conditioning - at one of her old middle schools, she had gotten into the habit of bringing a scarf and gloves whenever she needed to get any studying done during the winter. Here, the black blazer of her uniform suffices. There’s a faint smell of books in the air, but it’s different from the smell of Bunkichi and Mitsuko’s used bookstore, and different again from the manga cafe she has been to with Junpei a few times. More… chemical, maybe? She wanders through Philosophy, Social Sciences, Literature, and Poetry before finding herself back where she started.Kotone might have chided herself for wasting time, a few months ago, but now, it’s difficult to say what wasting time really is. In the face of the finality that they’ve been promised, it could just as easily be everything she does, or nothing whatsoever. Even so, she sits down, and begins the day’s homework, interspersed occasionally by the mundane duties of checking books in and out. A few hours in, and her brain is crying out for a distraction, but there’s few to be found. If any teachers were in the room, they would certainly be disappointed at the relatively meager turnout for the extended library hours the faculty set up this evening. She would suggest not taking it personally; it’s not their fault, Kotone supposes, that there may well be no more future left to prepare for. At least, not individually. Such students as there are, mainly seniors, are hunched over tables and desks with quiet focus; Kotone doesn’t recognize anyone who would be interested in a conversation. Saori would have gladly chatted with her all night, but she doesn’t go to Gekkoukan anymore. On some afternoons after class, there could be a kind of subliminal rhythm in the movement of the rectangular shafts of light through the school’s windows, and the color of the sunlight, and even the sounds of conversation through the hallways; Kotone could tell when it was time to leave for the dorm without so much as glancing at a clock. Today, though, there has been a low, thick overcast hanging over Port Island since before the first bell rang in the morning; the indicators of passing time have all faded into illegibility, but for a slow, subtle dimming from gray to black out the windows. The white fluorescent lights over her head in the library scorn even that.When the last feeble hints of daylight are gone from the library windows, Kotone finally rises from her chair and takes a stack of returned books to replace on the shelves. Of course they’re mostly study guides, but there are a few other titles mixed in - a lengthy history of the Ottoman Empire catches Kotone’s attention purely for its sheer heft. With every other book from the stack back in its correct section, the last one left is an annotated translation of Hamlet. Kotone flips through it for a moment; it’s true, something is rotten in the state of Denmark. The proper place for this book is up on the very top of the shelf in the Literature section; Kotone strains to reach high enough to make a space for it. The reason for having these bookshelves so tall must be institutional, not practical, Kotone decides; to make her feel small.Her fingers brush against something unfamiliar above her head. A… ring? She studies it in the palm of her hand. It’s made of some kind of green stone - jade perhaps? - and seems just a little bit warm to the touch. Now that she’s looking at it, Kotone is fairly sure she has seen this ring before someplace.It takes ten paces past the Reference shelf before she remembers. “The storm ring,” Fuuka had called it. It had appeared next to Kotone’s foot one night in Tartarus, after she summoned Jatayu during an especially lengthy fight. Fuuka analyzed it once the battle was over, and told them that it had some property to repel the wind spells that many Shadows - and Yukari - used. Then the Reaper materialized at the end of the hall, and Kotone was forced to drop everything, ring included, and run. That was back in September - it had to be, since Shinjiro was with them that night. His blasé calm as the Reaper approached takes on a different significance now. Returning to the present, Kotone clenches her fist around the ring, then slips it into a pocket, where it settles against her pencil. Back at her desk, Kotone starts on some mathematics, but her mind is wandering again. There is a ragged thread of logic, she supposes, to finding something she had lost while climbing the tower here. The connection between the two might fade into the background during the daytime when the school is busy, but right now, in the long January night, Tartarus feels no more than an eye blink away, waiting on the edge of her peripheral vision where conscious thought can’t quite tell her it’s not there.Still, contrary to suspicion, the Dark Hour does not come, or at least it waits long enough for Kotone to complete the last step of a trigonometric proof. She turns the page of her notebook to start the next problem - and everything she just wrote slides out of her notebook onto the desk next to her. She turns the page back - it’s blank again, like she hadn’t written anything. Meanwhile, the pencil marks that made up her former trigonometric proof dance and skitter across the desk; she grasps the expression sin 2x = 2 sin x cos x between two fingers, waves it, like it’s a strip of ribbon. There is no one here who could tell her what is going on - actually, there might not be anyone left in here at all, though Kotone can’t be sure. There’s an odd little thrill in that - a secret for her to keep, kind of like that faint tinge of excitement, that she carefully hid, when she first joined SEES. Time for an experiment. She picks up her pencil again and quickly scrawls Hello world on the paper, then gently blows on the page; the words float off the surface of her notebook, hanging on unseen currents of air like dust motes. Next, she scribbles a little doodle, a cat or something; she holds it in her hand, bends and squeezes it. The doodle, too, floats weightlessly in the air when Kotone releases it.This is actually kind of fun. She writes more - little sketches of Koromaru, carefully formed kanji, what little she knows of other languages - and lets it swirl around her desk, pencil marks twisting and turning with every wave of her hands. She draws herself a fake mustache and holds it up to her lip - but with no mirror to see how silly she looks with it, she lets it float away as well.  “Um,” somebody says from the library door. “The school’s closing in five minutes.” Kotone snaps to attention; everything around her settles back down to earth. It’s Chihiro Fushimi, from the student council; she opens her mouth to say something else, then seems to change her mind, clasping her hands and looking down at the floor.The confusion is written right on Chihiro’s face; there’s no use pretending whatever she was just doing was normal, Kotone decides. “How’d that line go again? More on heaven and earth, Horatio?” she starts. “Well, anyway, want to help me close up here?”Chihiro nods, but in truth there’s not that much to do; Kotone took care of most of the big chores while putting off the rest of her homework. Still, it takes one more walk through the bookshelves to make sure everything is put away, doors and windows are locked, and there are no more students left studying - they needn’t have bothered with that last part, Kotone thinks, the library is as silent as the grave. Job complete, the two of them reach the library entrance, when suddenly Chihiro speaks up again. “So, um…”Kotone turns to catch her eye; Chihiro momentarily looks at the floor. “What were you doing when I came in?” She tugs at the collar of her blouse; it must have taken her all that time walking through the library to work up the courage to ask.Kotone sighs. “To tell the truth, I don’t really know myself.”They lock the library door. “Sorry, that’s a really terrible answer, isn’t it?”Before waiting for Chihiro’s response, Kotone continues, “I guess the best I can say is that a mask slipped, and you saw something you weren’t supposed to. It happens.”“But…”“That’s all I’ve got.”As they pass the shoe lockers she touches the Storm Ring in her pocket. It doesn’t feel altogether right, not to explain the real secret, what their school becomes - and it’s hard to even say that it matters anymore who knows the truth. Yet habit compels her to hold her tongue - habit, or some residual fear. The two of them reach the front doors of the school; cold mist grips Kotone’s face. The streetlights make thick, glowing halos in the fog; Kotone has to remind herself again that it’s not quite as late as it feels like it is. There’s something else that doesn’t feel right, not with cult graffiti all over the streets and tonight’s vague implications that reality is coming unglued. It’s a little awkward, but Kotone has to ask. “Chihiro, would you like to walk home together? Could stop for a burger on the way if you want, I haven’t had a chance to eat.”Kotone sees the brief flash of a smile break through the student council treasurer’s usual shyness. “Okay,” Chihiro answers with a hint of relief. They walk side by side, lit from time to time by the headlights of passing cars - they catch in Chihiro’s glasses. Kotone attempts some small talk every few minutes, but her companion isn’t that much of a conversationalist. It’s about when they’re waiting for the monorail that Kotone realizes she might be doing this for her own peace of mind as much as Chihiro’s - realizes that she’s been expecting to see a black coffin off her left shoulder rather than a person.At the other end of the monorail, Wild-Duck Burger beckons in red and white neon. Tacky though it is, the signage has another message tonight, besides the price of a value meal. Soon - but not yet.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

19 January A strange dream comes to a sudden end, and Kotone finds herself awake in her room. Something about crawling along the edge of a knife - but was she tiny, or was the knife huge? It’s no use - every detail she reaches for simply dissolves, no more substantial than sugar poured into hot coffee.With a shrug she heads downstairs for an early breakfast. Has anyone been to the store lately? “You’re up early.” A familiar voice emerges from beneath a voluminous grey sweatshirt when she reaches the landing of the stairs.“Mhmm,” Kotone nods as first his silver hair, then the rest of Akihiko’s head, becomes visible. “You heading out already?”“Morning jog, yeah.” Akihiko segues into a series of stretching exercises as Kotone peruses the kitchen. As it turns out, the answer is no. No one has been to the store lately. Kotone sighs in frustration, at herself as much as anyone else, for forgetting about groceries in her most recent errand run. Akihiko must hear her, or recognize her body language, or something like that, because from across the room he asks, “Want to join me on my jog? I usually pass a couple different places that serve breakfast on the way back.”“Sure!” She suddenly feels something warm and soft against her legs. Reaching down to ruffle Koromaru’s fur, she suggests, “let’s feed this guy first, yeah?”-The front door of the dorm shuts, and a gulp of cold air rushes into Kotone’s chest. Her gym clothes don’t really feel warm enough yet, but once they’re moving, it should be fine.“You’ve got a route in mind?” she asks Akihiko next to her.“Memorized. Let’s go.”“I’ll just… follow you then?” Too late; he’s already on the move.The morning light is weak and diffuse; once again, clouds had moved in overnight, glowing white at their thinnest, but never quite revealing the sun. This is the sort of day where it would be easy to sleep in, if it were not a school day; even so, as Kotone and Akihiko jog, the city begins to wake up around them. At first, she sees small things - a door to a shop being propped open as Kotone runs past, lights switching on in a high window, a cook sweeping the sidewalk in front of his café. Then she starts at the metal clatter of an unloading delivery truck, and veers to the edge of the sidewalk to avoid a woman walking five dogs at once. Soon the sound of her shoes striking the pavement and the rise and fall of her breath are drowned out by the constant hum of traffic.Akihiko seems untroubled by any of this ahead of her, neatly charting a course through every obstacle without breaking his stride. The tennis club and Tartarus keep Kotone in good shape, but he does this every morning and knows the route; it’s harder for her to keep up than it is for him to lead. To his credit, Akihiko seems aware of her disadvantage, and carefully maintains an even pace, occasionally throwing a look over his shoulder to make sure Kotone isn’t too far behind. It’s not until Akihiko leads them toward the long ramp to Moonlight Bridge that Kotone has to call out to him. “What are we doing up here, senpai?”Akihiko slows so she can come up alongside him, then answers. “It’s all reclaimed land between the dorm and the school. Flat ground. So this ramp is the closest thing I can get to a good hill around here. Anyway, we’re not due for a break yet!” He resumes his previous jogging pace. Kotone nods, and follows, though it feels a little strange to her to see the bridge in such a prosaic way; as its cables and girders loom higher and higher above her, she can’t get her mind off the nearly eschatological significance of her previous visits.To Kotone’s surprise, however, the two of them do not cross from Iwatodai to Port Island. Instead, Akihiko ducks into an inconspicuous little doorway, marked by a green emergency exit sign. Inside is a long stairway downward, scissoring back and forth in steel and chipped paint; each footstep they make reverberates.“It’s a shortcut,” Akihiko explains, his voice echoing in the tall stairwell, but to where he doesn’t say. The two of them emerge at the base of a massive bridge piling. A narrow, but paved, bicycle path runs along the shore; on one side is a block wall, and on the other, dark grey water rippling up and down against the rocks.“Not many people know this path is here,” Akihiko tells Kotone. “You can’t really see it from the expressway on the other side of the wall.” Before she can ask him “left or right?” he starts running again. She pauses for just a moment before following - even now, there’s more to find. Just as Kotone’s legs begin to falter, the bike path opens out onto a - she can’t quite find the right word - promenade, or overlook, or something? There are benches facing the water and fixed binoculars pointing into the harbor - not that there’s much of a view today for either. The monorail track is visible in the distance; Kotone watches a train crossing it and glances at her watch. It seems there’s still plenty of time before she’ll need to catch one. Akihiko slows to a walk, turns, and leans on the metal railing separating them from the sea; Kotone joins him. He may have made all that running look easy, but there are still beads of sweat on his brow; resting his elbows on the railing, he clasps his hands together in the same black leather gloves he’d been wearing when Kotone first met him.“Heh, you’re all red,” he teases, watching his companion catch her breath.“Yeah, well, the hooded sweatshirt and gloves make you look like a burglar,” Kotone answers.Akihiko lets the jibe roll right past him, and gestures slightly to something on Kotone’s other side; she turns to look. “You see that guy over there?” he asks.“Hmm?” At the other end of the row of benches is a man sitting on a little collapsible stool, holding a long fishing rod over the railing into the water below.“He’s here every morning,” Akihiko explains. The man’s hair is white; just a little tuft of it escapes from under a wide-brimmed hat and a windbreaker pulled high up his neck. At a convenient distance from his seat are a bait bucket and tackle box; he leans back and stretches out his legs until his shoes catch the stanchions of the railing.“Every morning, huh?” Kotone asks.“Well, I first saw him when I started running this route, which was… couple weeks after I started middle school here? Never seen him miss a single day. Morning after I won a tournament, could only open one eye? He was there. Finally able to exercise after that Shadow cracked my rib? He welcomed me back. Morning after Shinjiro was… “ Akihiko pauses. “He was there too.”“You talk to him much?”“From time to time. I guess he’s a retiree or a veteran or something. I think… the most important thing is just that he’s there, you know?”Kotone nods but says nothing; Akihiko continues.“I have a feeling that he wouldn’t even care if Nyx descended like Ryoji says. He’d just set up right there, and keep fishing.”Kotone laughs, and suddenly Akihiko seems a little flustered.“I - I don’t know if it really makes much sense. But I think it helps.”“Every little bit helps, I think,” Kotone answers. They fall quiet for a moment, looking out over the bleak water. The rectangular silhouette of a container ship sits still in the distance, followed by a twin further away, and a third even farther than that, its profile ghostly and indistinct. There was a news report on television last night; something about the port cutting out shifts because too many workers were out with Apathy Syndrome, so ships are lining up waiting to unload, a neat, orderly queue stretching out into the ocean. “Undefeatable, huh,” Kotone muses, and not for the first time. Turning to Akihiko, she asks, “you ever fight an undefeatable opponent before?”He nods. “A few times, when I was starting out. People didn’t think a mopey little orphan like me could defeat anyone.”“How’d it go, then?” she asks.“Still won,” Akihiko answers. Turning away from the railing, he stretches out his arms and bounces up and down on the balls of his feet, ready to get moving again.The plain-spoken confidence in his voice is a little surprising - but right now, Kotone realizes, Akihiko is home - the kind of home that is an idea, not a place. And who doesn’t feel a little safer, a little more confident at home?Kotone smiles, and they start the final leg of their jog. It might not be much, but it’s something.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

2 JanuaryNo one ever celebrated the day after their birthday, or bought their lover a gift for the day after a year together. The fancy kimonos from the previous morning are packed away; there’s no fanfare for the second day of a new year. They made their decision the day before last; celebrated it yesterday, and today, they have to live with it.In this quiet gray morning, not too different from December 29th or December 30th of last year, it’s hard to say what that’s going to look like, the full consequences still weeks away. Kotone’s breakfast stretches itself out in a languid haze, bites of toast dangling off the end of her fork for seconds that pass like hours. There must be something she needs to go do soon enough, lots of things even, but for now her body refuses to catch up to her brain. She stares through the curving glass of a half-empty cup of orange juice at Yukari, who winds a patterned scarf around her neck as she descends the staircase to the dorm lounge.“Going someplace?” Kotone asks idly.“Just the convenience store. We’re out of hand soap for the fourth floor bathroom, and the school facilities people don’t bring more until Friday,” Yukari explains.“Oh, thanks,” Kotone mumbles through a mouthful of toast. Once she’s swallowed, she looks up. “Haven’t seen you wearing that scarf before. It’s cute.”Yukari brightens a little, running her fingers through the fabric. “Thank you! Yeah, I bought it last month. Was hoping a little retail therapy would help. I mean, it didn’t, but I still like it.”Kotone nods slightly in recognition; the dorm hadn’t been a happy place to be for the first week or so of December. “Where’d you get it?”“Little shop called Il Milanese, three station stops out of Iwatodai. It’s a pretty nice store, I could take you there sometime, if you want.”Kotone takes a gulp of orange juice and steps up out of her chair. “Well, lead the way.” she demands, as cheerfully as she can manage.“Huh?” Yukari doesn’t show surprise nearly as much as, say, Junpei, but Kotone can tell it’s there.“I have to get outside for a bit,” Kotone explains. “Also, I had Fuuka do a quick scan last night and she thinks the top of Tartarus is between forty and fifty levels higher than we’ve gone. We’ve got enough climbing ahead of us that I feel like I need to make some kind of pre-emptive apology.”“No, you don’t,” Yukari sighs. “Though I appreciate the sentiment. Actually-“ she smiles, “sure, let’s do it. We’re getting the soap first though.” The two of them are the only customers in the convenience store this morning, but the clerk behind the counter still pays about as much attention to Yukari and Kotone as he would a pair of fruit flies. Past the magazines and the candy bars is… an empty shelf?“Seriously? Who bought all the soap?” Yukari wonders in exasperation.Kotone holds up the only bottle she can find inquiringly, but Yukari promptly vetoes it. “No, that’s for getting grease off dishes. Bad for your skin.”“Guess we’ll have to try the pharmacy later,” Kotone puts the bottle aside.“Let’s just skip to the fun part for now,” Yukari replies.Kotone holds up a chocolate bar. “Snack for the road first?”“It’s not like we’re going that far.”“Suit yourself.” Kotone buys one chocolate bar for each of them anyway, the flimsy plastic bag the cashier put them in flapping loudly in the breeze as they step back outside. She slips thirty yen in change into a jacket pocket.“The problem with doing that,” Yukari notices, "is that when spring comes and you put the warm clothes away, you’ll forget you had anything in there.”“I prefer to think of it as a gift for my future self next winter,” Kotone answers with a smile.“I’m sure she’ll be grateful,” Yukari quips.As notional as they are, there is a certain comfort in thinking about spring, or next winter - times far enough away to imagine them being normal. Yukari must think so too; she wonders aloud what the bare trees along the sidewalk will look like in bloom. Kotone pictures it in her head; the image softens the bite of the cold wind against her face, just a little. It first occurs to Kotone subtly, more an intuition than an observation, but once they’re on the stairs heading in, it’s obvious - the train station is almost empty of passengers.“Where’d everyone go?” Yukari asks as they climb the stairs. Her voice sounds different, bouncing off hard-edged tile and glass instead of fading into the drone of dozens of strangers and their conversations.They gaze up at the electronic status monitor, its displayed clock - well, not a clock, a representation of a clock - still ticking away. At some preset interval, a stiff message crawls across the screen - “Attention Passengers - Service outage due to signal maintenance problem. We apologize for the inconvenience.”Kotone’s eyes move down the schedule: Hikari 491 to Osaka: cancelled. Kodama 665 to Tokyo: cancelled. 10:30 express to Chiba/Narita: cancelled. 10:40 local to Toyama: delayed. 10:55 local to Hamamatsu: cancelled. “So, uh…”“Oh, there’s our train!” Yukari points a little further down the list. “…only twenty-five minutes late. You still want to go?”Maybe a cute scarf isn’t really worth that much hassle. That’s not the real reason they’re out here today, though, Kotone knows - Yukari probably realizes it too. Six days until the end of winter break, twenty-nine until the last dance. As pointless as it is to circumvent the subject, Kotone can’t quite speak it aloud without the words halting in the back of her throat.“Twenty-five minutes is nothing. Remember the night I moved in to the dorm? That train was four hours late,” Kotone smirks. An evasive answer, perhaps, but Yukari lets it slide. Down another staircase, and they emerge on Platform 5 alone, but for a thin figure hidden in a baggy black hooded sweatshirt, putting papers up on the station walls. When he (and really, it’s not as if they can even tell that much) hears Yukari and Kotone approach, he dashes off, running down the platform to the other exit on the opposite end, setting his papers flying behind him. Kotone picks one up as Yukari settles down on a bench.Sitting down next to her friend, Kotone begins to read the flyer. “The Mother of Darkness Descends. Salvation Through Nyx - No Fear, No Pain, No Grief. Meetings Monday, Wednesday, Friday, 9:00PM.”“I don’t even… that’s…” Yukari can’t quite verbalize her disgust.“If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em, right?” It’s a hollow, bitter kind of sarcasm. Kotone crumples up the flyer and tosses it towards a trash can - it falls short by about half a meter. The wind picks up again, and the ball of paper scuttles across the concrete.“Ugh, fine…” Kotone rises from her seat to go retrieve it and dispose of it properly; Yukari manages a laugh.“End of the world’s no reason to go littering,” Kotone explains, returning to her place at Yukari’s side. They both fall quiet for a time after that. On the other side of the tracks, on the next platform over, a man in a heavy coat is laid out across another bench; Kotone can’t tell whether he has Apathy Syndrome, or just no other place to sleep. On the next platform past that one, a transit worker in a high-visibility vest takes down the station’s last remaining Christmas decorations. With no sign of any of the trains that they would otherwise conduct, the electric wires above the track sway gently under the weight of dozens of pigeons. The images of clocks on the monitors slowly turn onwards.“Kind of creepy, isn’t it? It’s normally so busy,” Yukari says, perhaps just to fill the quiet.“Yeah…” Kotone watches a few new passengers descend the steps to the opposite platform; Yukari’s phone beeps with a new text message. “Great if you like having personal space though.”“Ha, that’s true.”“All depends on how you look at it, right? If not for those other people at the end of the express platform, we could be brave adventurers, exploring an abandoned city.”Yukari laughs. “Is that something you’ve wanted to do?”“When I was six? Totally. All the locked gates, back alleys, basement entrances, ‘employees only’ doors I passed on the way to school - I wanted to know what was behind all of them. Didn’t you?” Kotone asks.“I mean, kind of? It’s hard to remember.”“And I figured if nobody was around, nobody would yell at me for it. But then I started experiencing the Dark Hour, and saw an empty city every night. Turned out to be terrifying.” Kotone pauses, and reaches into the plastic bag from the convenience store. “Here,” she hands one of the chocolate bars Yukari’s direction.“I didn’t want one,” she protests.“I know,” Kotone answers.“You sound like my mom,” Yukari responds, taking the chocolate bar anyway. “Ugh, not really anymore, but…” She glances back towards her cell phone.“Don’t worry about her. You’ll be able to do it when you’re ready,” Kotone assures her. She goes for a bite of her own chocolate bar and recoils. “Ouch, this thing is as hard as a rock.” Finally, a train appears in front of them, its doors sliding open with a hiss; three stops, Yukari repeats again. On board, Kotone wonders if she’ll be able to count all the other passengers in their car on one hand; not quite, but close. Towards one end of the car a small boy has his face pressed up against the window glass, watched by his mother; to the left of the door, a woman in a paper face mask leaves only her eyes visible, and they’re no more revealing than a cement wall. The last seat before the passage to the next car has a young man dwarfed by the pair of headphones he wears, lost in his own world. Yukari picks a seat in sight of the kid by the window, and Kotone follows.An electronic chime signals their stop, and Yukari and Kotone follow the end of a narrow station platform out onto a quiet, grey-colored street.“So, which way?” Kotone asks, as she catches their reflection in the dark windows of a glass-fronted office building on the other side of the crosswalk.“Right, I think?” Yukari makes a vague gesture in that direction.“You don’t seem too sure.”“Oh, hush.”They go right anyway; at the end of the block is a broad intersection with a faster, busier road, with a bridge over it to keep pedestrians out of the traffic.“Now I remember. Over the footbridge here, and through the park,” Yukari explains.Up on the bridge, there’s a subtle shake when larger trucks pass underneath their feet; a little higher, and they’d be eye level with the roadside billboards. Kotone reads off the nearest one, some kind of public service announcement.“Beat Apathy Syndrome - 20 Minutes of Outdoor Exercise Daily. Wonder if that works?”“No idea.” Yukari answers, although Kotone hadn’t really intended it as a question. “With how quiet it’s been today, I guess people aren’t following that advice, though.”“Everyone’s still sleeping off their New Year’s hangovers, probably.”“You’re such a cynic, Kotone,” Yukari chides.Past a dance studio and a convenience store is the park Yukari mentioned - they cut to the next street over through the middle of a soccer field, setting into the air a whole flock of crows. Crows are smart, right? Maybe they’ll be the dominant species on Earth after Nyx… does whatever she or it is going to do. Kotone curses herself silently for letting her mind go that direction, but it’s hard to get it back on the rails again. Which direction would Tartarus be from here?“Too bad the snow from the other night didn’t really stay,” Yukari muses. “I bet it’d look nice here.”“Yeah…” Kotone murmurs. She’s not really paying attention, but it would be an improvement over the yellow-brown dead grass they’re walking through. Only a few patches of snow remain, tucked away in corners and against curbs and walls. “This way,” Yukari indicates at the other end of the park. A narrow shopping street opens ahead of them, closed off to vehicle traffic with stout metal posts in the concrete; even so, it has a welcoming quality, with colorful banners strung across its width and awnings fluttering in the wind. People gaze in store windows and hurry past with shopping bags, or carry-out lunches; Kotone recognizes a few faces from school, though not anyone she can name.“You know I met Ms. Kanou here once?” Yukari starts. “She was buying-““Hey, there it is!” Kotone interrupts her. “Il Milanese” is written in stylized italics on a sign above a set of display windows, but the shutters are down, and no lights are on. There’s a paper taped to the door; Yukari and Kotone move closer to read it.
Dear customers,

Regrettably, our manager has contracted Apathy Syndrome, and we have been forced to close Il Milanese until her recovery. We apologize for the inconvenience and wish for your understanding in this difficult time. Thank you for your continued patronage, and we wish you all the best.

Regards,

The Il Milanese Staff
“No way, I was looking forward to this,” Yukari laments.Kotone sighs. “At least they think she’s going to get better. Seen a lot of people give up on that lately.”“Yeah…” The two of them turn back to the street. “You want to go somewhere else?” Yukari asks. “Since we’re out already…”"I don’t know,” Kotone responds. There has to be a better answer than that, but for the moment it’s lost somewhere. Maybe she was looking forward to shopping here with Yukari more than she thought. Maybe she misses how she felt early in the morning, when things were still convincingly normal. Maybe they should have gone somewhere else; maybe it didn’t matter what she did with this day off anyhow. They linger for a little while longer. Kotone pictures in her mind the rest of the stores on the street shuttering too, one by one, their colorful signs and banners fading, a grey veil slipping across the face of the world.“It’s funny,” Yukari contemplates. “Whenever it’s just the two of us together, we have the worst luck. Like you were there the day I got robbed.”“Also the time we almost got run over by a car. Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised that this shopping trip didn’t work out, huh,” Kotone says.“Maybe we should hurry back before either of us can get struck by lightning,” Yukari jokes.“I checked the weather report this morning, we should be okay on lightning. No word on meteorite impacts, though,” Kotone answers. Without a great deal of purpose, Yukari and Kotone walk out of the shopping street the same way they came in. Kotone fidgets; something about this morning has been steadily corrosive to everything she thought she was sure about.“You think we made the right choice?”“Hm?” Yukari keeps walking.“On New Year’s Eve,” Kotone clarifies.“It’s only natural to wonder,” Yukari answers, “but I think so. Everything we said then is still true now, right?”“Yeah… sorry, I shouldn’t doubt myself this easily, I guess.”“Don’t worry about it. We just have to… hold together.”The two of them fall quiet after that. Kotone supposes there is at least one thing left to be certain of, mawkish as it might sound to say aloud.“I know this morning has been a bit of a wash,” Kotone starts haltingly, her voice softer than usual, but Yukari is still listening.“But, I just want to say - there’s no way we would have made it this far without you. So - thank you, Yukari.”There are a lot of things on Yukari’s face - warmth, but also surprise and a bit of concern. “I- why now?”“I guess I felt that if I could say it, I should. Not much time left for keeping quiet, you know?” Kotone can feel heat rising in her cheeks. “Even if it’s a bit awkward,” she finishes.Yukari smiles. “Well, thanks.” They cut through the same park on their way back to the station, but through a baseball field this time. Their feet are crunching on the sand of the pitcher’s mound when Kotone spots a sign on a low building past the bleachers. “Oh! That’s perfect!” she exclaims. “Follow me!”“Huh?” Yukari must have been thinking about something else. The glass door to the batting cages might be smudged and dark - but it’s open, revealing a little room with a counter, equipment racks, and faded, decade-old posters of baseball stars on the walls.“Two, please!” Kotone indicates brightly to the bored-looking young man behind the counter.“Sure. Looks like you’ll have the place to yourselves today.” He takes her money, and goes back to a magazine.“Wait wait wait, what are we doing?” Yukari finally catches up to what’s going on.“Batting cage. Machine throws ball, you swing at it. Junpei got me into these. You’ll get the hang of it, it’s fun,” Kotone explains, pulling her hands into a pair of gloves just a fraction too small.Yukari casts a skeptical eye over Kotone as she weighs an aluminum bat in her hand, but reaches out to the rack full of bats to do the same.“Don’t forget the gloves,” Kotone warns. “You’ll get blisters on your hands without ‘em.” She pulls a dark blue plastic helmet over her ears and feels them pinch; not quite the right size either, but it’ll do. “Helmet, too." The combination of Yukari’s usual pink sweater with a clumsy black batting helmet is… incongruous. But some things aren’t worth pointing out aloud. Instead, she selects one lane from the row in front of them, and squares up in front of the “home plate” painted on the concrete, taking a couple practice swings before pressing the button to start the pitching machine. Yukari takes the next position over, behind Kotone. “This does at least solve the mystery of Junpei’s swordsmanship,” Kotone hears her say.A light in front of her switches on, and Kotone can hear machinery spinning up. Three… two… one… and a yellow ball launches her direction. She swings to no result; the ball strikes a rubber curtain behind her with a thwack. No matter; there’s another already on the way. Two more misses follow, but her fourth swing is a glancing blow; the ball skips out in front of her, bouncing back across the ground towards the machine. Her pulse begins to get quicker.“Ah!” she hears Yukari yelp behind her, and quickly steps aside from the plate and turns around.“You okay?”“I’m fine,” Yukari explains sheepishly. “It’s just a little startling - how it feels when you make contact.”“Ha, yeah.”Kotone’s hits start getting better, bouncing farther and straighter off the bat. She’s adjusting her grip for the next pitch when-“Ah!” Yukari again.“What is it?” Kotone asks.“…that time I bounced it off my shin.”A fastball right down the middle, and this time Kotone’s timing is perfect - not just contact, but resonance, the ball leaping off the sweet spot of the metal bat with a clang. The rubber tape around the grip of the bat is worn almost bare and her thin gloves offer little protection from the impact; a jolt of electricity shoots down Kotone’s hands to her arms and shoulders. The pain is trivial, though, compared to the fleeting rush of elation as the ball flies past the pitching machines, just barely missing a target painted on the wall behind. At last there was no other time or place where she could be - only here, only holding this worn-out aluminum bat, only swinging it at exactly the specified moment. Her morning wandering around Iwatodai as directionless as a wisp of smoke is gone; so too is whatever hellish evening in Tartarus awaits her tonight or tomorrow.From somewhere behind her comes another metallic ping, and she turns to watch a ball catch against a net over their heads; Yukari must be getting into a rhythm herself. Kotone hopes so, at least. She grins, even as she completely misses her own next pitch. Kotone swings until she’s lost count of hits and misses, until her hands ache and a trickle of sweat rolls down the corner of her face. Yet this was only ever going to be a brief moment. The little light on top of the pitching machine turns back off, and Kotone relaxes, easing her grip on the bat and resting it against one shoulder.Across from her, Yukari tucks her batting helmet under one arm; it disheveled and flattened her hair, which is streaked intermittently with sweat. Kotone can only assume she looks much the same.“You have fun?” she asks hopefully.“It’s strange, I had no idea what I was doing the entire time, but I was still disappointed when the machine stopped,” Yukari answers.“Sounds about right,” Kotone laughs.They turn their gear back in at the front desk; it’s impossible to tell whether the attendant Kotone spoke to beforehand is still awake. “Look, sun!” Yukari points out as they step outside. It’s just a small break in the clouds, but still the first they’ve seen all day; they chase the little shaft of sunlight all the way out of the park, stopping at a vending machine on the side of the street. Kotone drops in one hundred yen for a bottle of water; Yukari does the same.“Up for another half-hour on an empty train platform?” Yukari asks, putting the cap back on her water.Kotone stares back at her through the clear plastic of her half-full bottle. “Wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

28 JanuaryBehind the film of rainwater streaming down the windows, the outside world wavers. Kotone grasps her umbrella in one hand, while the other holds the door handle; her commute is, unfortunately, going to have to start sometime.“Ready?” she asks.Aigis appears next to her in a whirl of rapid footsteps and the faint, indistinct hum of a dozen pistons, gears, and springs, all moving at once. “Ready,” she confirms.Yukari, still eating her breakfast elsewhere in the lounge, says something, but is drowned out by Junpei’s yell; “Have a good swim!” Presumably (hopefully?) they’ll be getting on a later train. Odagiri had requested Kotone arrive early for some lingering Student Council business the previous afternoon, and Kotone had promised to at least try, but that was before the storm rolled in.A final deep breath, and the two of them step out of the dorm into the falling rain, Kotone popping open her umbrella as soon as she has a free hand. It was foolish to expect the previous weekend’s good weather to last; the mild (for January) temperatures have remained, but the clear skies have not. Really, it’s worse than snow; there’s not much consolation in it being technically above freezing, once Kotone feels the way the cold soaks in and clings on. On top of that, they’ll have to keep an eagle eye out for black ice tomorrow morning.Even so, they still have to go to school. Don’t they? Kotone tightens her scarf and tilts her umbrella to cover Aigis’ head as well as her own. As an android, she can probably handle getting wet, but that isn’t the point. It’s a challenge to match her walking pace, though; when they reach the corner, a smudged cult flyer floats past in a puddle. Kotone stumbles trying to keep her feet out of it; Aigis simply continues, her every step exactly the same length. Underneath a pedestrian bridge, the rhythm of falling raindrops on Kotone’s umbrella is interrupted for a brief moment.“I have been working on improving my skills at what is called ‘small talk’,” Aigis begins. “How was your day?”“Barely even started yet,” Kotone answers.“That is true. I shall try a different topic,” Aigis acknowledges.They cross a poorly drained section of sidewalk; Kotone can feel cold water seeping into her shoes. “Though, early signs aren’t looking good.”“Did you have a good breakfast?” Aigis asks after a moment.“Eh… I’ve almost forgotten it already, so it can’t have been that good.”“I see,” Aigis says, but the look on her face doesn’t really indicate understanding. Food might not be a very productive conversation topic for an android, though she’s the one who brought it up.“Sorry, I’m not helping you out very much, am I?” Kotone laughs a little, even though her mind is elsewhere. She glances at the pixelated screen of her phone, announcing the date and time. A raindrop lands on it and makes a tiny kaleidoscope. They hurry towards the fare gates at Iwatodai Station - not because they’re late, more to get under a roof. Kotone shuts her umbrella and fumbles in her schoolbag for her monorail pass, wincing when a searching finger catches the point of a mechanical pencil. Finally producing her keyring, she waves it in front of her, but the fare gate is unmoved. She glances down at her keyring, and realizes that her monorail pass isn’t on it.“Damn it,” she hisses; five more people pass through the fare gates to her left and right.“What’s the matter?” Aigis asks behind her.“The new passes came in the mail yesterday, so I took my old one off my keychain,” Kotone starts, putting the pieces together in her mind, “but I never put the new one on, so it’s still on my desk at the dorm. I’ll just buy a day ticket today.” Purchases from Officer Kurosawa largely complete, there isn’t a whole lot else she’ll need the money for this week - or maybe ever, given what’s pencilled in to the calendar for Sunday.Kotone shoves her way over to the ticket machine; on the way, another Gekkoukan student almost impales her with the spoke of his umbrella, and a salaryman in a long coat steps on her left big toe. Her hand is on her coin purse when she sees the sign affixed to the screen of the machine - “Out of Order.”“Perfect.” Aigis looks at her curiously. Never has the decision to leave for school an hour early been more inconveniently vindicated. “Alright,” Kotone tries her best to keep her voice even, “I’ve got time to to go back and get it. You can go on ahead, if you’d like.” She reaches again for her umbrella - if anything, it’s raining harder now. Aigis didn’t say what she was going to do either way, Kotone realizes as she descends the stairs - but a look over her shoulder, and she’s already lost in the crowd.The beat of rain against plastic and concrete gets harder and more staccato; it might be freezing now, but it’s hard to tell. Kotone winds the free end of her scarf around her neck one more time, then jams her one free hand deeper into a coat pocket, to little effect. A black ink of frustration smears in the rain, like that stupid poster, and blots out her other thoughts; at herself for being forgetful, at the weather for being awful, at the ticket kiosk for being broken, at the school she had to go to, at everything she can think of. A block before the dorm as she starts to cross the street, her left foot catches on an uneven section of curb; she loses her balance, drops her umbrella, and comes to a stop standing, but with her right foot ankle-deep in a flooded pothole. Why even bother? Just let it all end, already. At last she’s outside the dorm again. Cognitive dissonance, that’s what it’s called, Kotone remembers as her hand touches the bitter cold metal of the door handle. In three nights’ time she was prepared to lay down her life for the notion that the anger and despair she felt this morning, that millions felt every morning and had long ago channeled into Nyx, was wrong. The draft of warm air as she steps into the lounge releases tension in her shoulders she didn’t even realize she was holding. Would it really matter if she just crawled back into bed for the rest of the day? Her school attendance seems like it should be the least of anyone’s concerns, given the impending demise of civilization. No one would even notice she was gone.“I thought you left already, Kotone-san,” calls a voice from the other end of the lounge, as Kotone taps her feet together on the doormat.“Forgot something,” she answers automatically. “Laugh if you want.” Looking up, she sees Ken, pouring cereal into a bowl from a box labeled “Chocolate Shrapnel.”“I wasn’t planning on it,” Ken answers calmly.Kotone rushes up the stairs (dripping water as she goes, no doubt) to the third floor. In her room the monorail pass is exactly where she expected it would be; she slips it into her bag and closes it tight. She peels away wet socks; the fresh ones she puts on won’t stay dry for long, obviously, but at the moment, even trivially small pleasures count. Out the window, she sees only umbrellas down on the street, not pedestrians - there’s something abstract about their movement, colors sliding through space.…One of the umbrellas is spinning. A playful motion, first to the right, then to the left. She considers the image of it on her way out of her bedroom and down the stairs. Of course it would matter whether she resumed her commute to school again - it had to. Even if Ekoda didn’t notice or care, she did. She throws herself back out the dorm’s front door for the second time, and immediately a gust of cold wind circumvents her umbrella and covers her in fresh rain. No matter - time is wasting. At the corner store where she met Mitsuru the other day she stops at the crosswalk to wait for a green light, and spots a figure, or a statue, waiting across the street.“Aigis?” She stands perfectly upright and perfectly still, gaze fixed outward, heedless of the rain even with her blonde hair plastered across her face and her uniform soaked through.“I told you you could go on ahead,” Kotone says as she finishes crossing the street.“I wished to remain by your side,” Aigis answers, “so I followed until I could be sure you had reached the dorm safely.” Indeed, she does have a clear line of sight to the front door from here, notwithstanding the compelling reasons not to linger currently beating down on Kotone’s umbrella.“You aren’t cold?” The question sounds silly as soon as it is out of Kotone’s mouth. There isn’t so much as a hint of discomfort on Aigis’ face - no runny nose, no squint against the wind.“I am fine,” Aigis confirms. “Let us continue.” There are things Kotone missed, the first time she walked this same route earlier in the morning. Here and there are the final few clumps of the snow from earlier in the month, brown-stained and melting, tucked behind trash bins and under bridge pilings. But then there’s also a wisp of white smoke, climbing out a chimney above the takoyaki stand and merging into the gray sky in an impossibly intricate feathery pattern, and the green glow of a traffic light, smeared across the whole rain-slicked street by a million little reflections. As the two of them enter the train station for the second time so far today, Kotone glances to her side at Aigis, whose mechanical pupils subtly dilate like a cat’s.A little chime sounds, and the fare gates open in response to her new pass. There is even a monorail waiting at the platform with an open seat - a small victory, but one Kotone will gladly take. Aigis stands next to and above her as the monorail accelerates out of the station towards Port Island and Gekkoukan High School. “Today’s agenda includes a physics quiz before lunchtime. Please make sure you are prepared,” Aigis reminds Kotone.“Eh, I’ll manage,” the latter replies, staring out the monorail windows at dark clouds over steel-gray water.“You are capable of excellent grades in that class,” Aigis notes. “I encourage you to make the effort.”“I guess there’s something to be said for getting the top score on Japan’s last-ever physics quiz,” Kotone concedes.She turns back to Aigis, who looks askance. “I may have an unfair advantage in this area.”“How so?” Kotone asks curiously.“May I have a sheet of paper?”Kotone rips a sheet of paper out of her notebook and hands it to Aigis, who crumples it into a tight ball, then tosses it into the air and catches it in her hand.“Humans observed the motion of the ball and understood it intuitively, then developed the mathematics to model it,” Aigis begins. “I operate in reverse. In my programming I was given the mathematics, from which I derive the understanding.”Before Kotone has a chance to unpack that statement, a loud, scratchy announcement on the monorail’s intercom announces their impending arrival at Port Island Station. “Please check for your personal belongings before exiting the train.” She does so, paying particular attention to her umbrella; though given that it’s warm, and dry, her departure from the monorail is accompanied by more regrets than usual. At the top of the stairs out of the station, the last place they’ll be out of the rain before the school gates, Aigis says, “Time for the final push.”“What? Oh, uh, yeah.” They dash out into the open air of the plaza, past the movie theater, and towards school, quick as Kotone can manage. She can almost see the wind gusts, in the shifting patterns of falling raindrops on the pavement. They’re well past the point where it does them much good, but Kotone tries to keep the umbrella steady anyhow.About one block away from the school, someone wearing the Gekkoukan High gym uniform sprints past them, no umbrella or hood shielding them from the cold rain. Kotone can’t get a good look at their face; a track team member, maybe?“You’re almost there! Keep at it!” Kotone shouts; the runner doesn’t answer, but raises a clenched fist in acknowledgement.“Who was that?” Aigis asks.“Does it matter?” Kotone replies.Aigis holds the door open for her as Kotone closes her umbrella and steps into the school lobby; checking her phone again, there are somehow still ten minutes until the first bell. It’s worth a sigh of relief, until she hears something dripping behind her as she slots her shoes into her locker.“Aigis?”“Yes?” the android responds innocently. Yet when Kotone turns around to look at her, she’s squeezing enough water out of her skirt to make a decent-sized puddle on the floor.Kotone sighs again, for a different reason. “Ugh, I’m probably not even that much drier, am I?”“You are not.”“Right, um, let me see if I can find some towels. Follow me.” The tennis team’s club room is chilly, dark, and empty this morning, but more importantly, it has a stack of gym towels on the desk by the window; Kotone requisitions them and flashes Aigis a thumbs-up as she watches from the door. Their steps squeak on the wet tile floor as they rush over to the first-floor women’s bathroom, which is sideways. “What…” the word lingers and fades on Kotone’s lips.The left-hand wall, with the rows of toilet stalls along it, has rotated ninety degrees clockwise to become the ceiling; the right-hand wall, with the sinks and mirrors, has done the same to take the place of the floor. The fluorescent tube lamps that used to shine down from the ceiling now cast long, faint shadows sideways.“Standing by,” Aigis announces in a cool, even monotone. She’s standing differently than she did by the shoe lockers - more taut, poised like a sprinter on the blocks. It makes sense - maybe they are in Tartarus, in which case Aigis would be following her orders. But when Kotone turns around and takes a quick look out the bathroom door, everything is as normal - she spies Rio walking past talking with a girl from 2-F, and a first-year shaking his wet hair back and forth like a dog.“No Shadows detected in this room,” announces Aigis as Kotone rejoins her.“Right.” Kotone tries not to sound too relieved. Though she’s far from defenseless, Aigis doesn’t have her firearms fitted in her wrists when attending class. “So… maybe when the Dark Hour ended last night and Tartarus turned back into our school, this particular room just… came out wrong?” she speculates aloud. Belatedly she remembers the gym towels she’s been carrying and hands some to Aigis.“Unknown,” Aigis answers definitively, making her uncertainty sound strangely like confidence. Kotone kneels down to a crouch to activate one of the hand dryers, then stands back up, and warms her foot in the blast of hot air. Next, she reaches down to turn on one of the faucets - instead of into the bowl of the sink, the water spurts and splashes straight down against the mirror, which is now below it.“I… don’t know what I was expecting there,” Kotone notes sheepishly, but Aigis says nothing. She’s drying her hair with one of the towels, but her eyes are still scanning - piercing, really - back and forth across the room.Kotone makes her own haphazard effort to dry off with her share of the towels. It’s some consolation that most of the rest of the school is going to look nearly as bedraggled as she does for at least first period. Her eyes drift towards the window at the other end of the room - frosted glass for privacy, and normally out of reach from the floor. An experiment floats into mind - open the window and text someone outside to ask what they see. Would the window appear sideways from the outside? Would she? Both? Neither? Her steps are delicate, both because she’s walking on mirrors and because the toilet stall doors are all hanging vertically right above the top of her head, occasionally swaying slightly back and forth on their hinges. It is an unfamiliar sensation for her reflection to greet her so clearly at her feet; a bit like that awful Shirakawa hotel where they put mirrors on the ceiling. Even so, she reaches the window, which… doesn’t budge at all.She notices a peg in the window frame that might be a lock, but the window is equally stuck in both of its positions. Pushing harder only yields sore fingers, though Kotone can at least hear the raindrops striking the other side. Silently conceding defeat, she returns to Aigis, who has neatly folded up her towels and seems to be waiting for her next instruction.“We don’t have much time, but I guess we should see if this happened anywhere else in school?” Kotone suggests, though she has no idea what to do if it has. “I’m also a little worried about what could happen if anyone else comes in here.” Most likely just a minor commotion, but what if someone got spirited away to Tartarus like Fuuka did?“Understood.” They return to the right-side-up world of the first-floor hallway. “Guess we’ll start with the other bathroom,” Kotone begins - it’s the closest, after all - but her hand freezes just clear of the mens’ room door handle.“Um…” Suddenly it doesn’t feel right. Aigis looks at the door, then at Kotone, then at the pictogram on the wall.“Very well,” Aigis says. “I shall examine the mens’ bathroom in your place.”“Wait-““If challenged, I will claim to be a machine and not a girl, so as to not violate societal norms.”“That’s not-“With no further hesitation, Aigis opens the door herself, shutting it behind her just as quickly. Kotone stands frozen for a few moments, subsumed in the sheer awkwardness of the moment. Gathering her wits, she pulls her phone out of a pocket; she should probably let the rest of SEES know something has happened, even if they can’t do much about it. She has dialed the first three digits of Fuuka’s number when Aigis pops back out of the men’s room.“Find anything?” Kotone asks.“As I had never entered it before, I cannot say the men’s bathroom is ‘as normal.’ I have no basis of comparison,” Aigis states.Kotone deflates, “Well, I suppose we-““However, water from the faucets flowed the correct direction into the sink.”“Imagine my relief.”“Additionally, I was able to verify that the Mobius strip I folded in the room possessed the correct number of spatial dimensions, and that the two parallel lines I drew on the floor did not intersect.”“Uh… great?” It’s not sarcasm, that probably does mean that room is normal… somehow. The first bell finally rings; the other students in the hall scramble away.“Crap! So, um… what do we do now?” Kotone asks herself in exasperation.“This will be the first tardy on my record. I am curious to see if any changes result,” Aigis notes dryly.“Not about that!”“We could stand here and interdict any potential women’s bathroom users until the door has been locked and a suitable cover story established,” Aigis suggests.“Not how I’d planned to spend my morning, but…” As terrible as it was, her trip to school earlier in the morning gives Kotone an idea. “Actually, you got a black marker?” She fixes her new “Out of Order” sign on the bathroom door with tape. The two of them take a step back and head for the stairs to face Ms. Toriumi’s possible ire in homeroom; a few text messages to Mitsuru on the way should set a more permanent solution in motion, hopefully. They’ll meet at lunchtime.“Good enough?” Aigis asks.“Good enough.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

16 January“I- I’m waiting for my boyfriend!”Overhearing snippets of conversation on her way out of school was nothing new. Kotone blows some warm air into her gloved hands as she walks through the school gate, hastening her steps - maybe moving faster will help warm her up.“Are you? Well, I’m waiting for someone as well. But you needn’t justify yourself to me - this is your school, isn’t it?”Kotone freezes. That voice, she knows. She whirls around to spy a vivid jolt of blue, blazing like a searchlight amid the white snow and black-uniformed Gekkoukan students.“Unless - oh, do you suspect I will try to steal him away from you? How scandalous!” Elizabeth continues to her - most likely unwilling - conversation partner, one of the more timid first-year girls.“Elizabeth-“ Kotone starts, then turns quickly to the befuddled first year. “Pardon me.” She tugs gently on Elizabeth’s sleeve and ushers her a few paces away. “What are you doing here?”“Kotone, I was in fact waiting for you,” Elizabeth begins, paying no heed to Kotone’s skeptical expression. “Two people have strayed into Tartarus. Please offer them assistance promptly.”“Thank you for letting me know, but don’t you usually call me on the phone for this?”“I would, but…” Elizabeth looks a bit guilty. “I was not expecting your world’s creations to be quite so… fragile.”Kotone sheds her gloves in order to scribble a quick note about the rescues in her planner, all the while contemplating just how Elizabeth must have managed to break the Velvet Room’s phone. Actually, the Velvet Room having a phone to begin with was an interesting revelation in itself - sure, Elizabeth had always called Kotone on her phone, but given how everything else about Igor and his assistant seemed to work, that didn’t necessarily mean - well, anyway.“The seniors are having their entrance exams today. Was hoping to give them the night off, but I’m up for it if they are. Otherwise, it may have to wait until tomorrow night.” Before putting her gloves back on Kotone pulls out her phone and starts on a quick text message to Fuuka - just to make sure everyone else can be lined up.“I understand. Your efforts are, as always, much appreciated.” Elizabeth nods demurely; her hat catches a falling snowflake. “I ought to be returning to the Velvet Room now.”She makes to leave, but her shoulders sag a little, and she hesitates in her step.“I could walk with you back to the mall if you’d like?” Kotone offers.“I mustn’t distract myself from my duties…” Elizabeth begins, but it doesn’t sound like her heart is really in it.Kotone smiles as warmly as she can. “You have never let me down. Not once. And I should think that knowing me better makes you better at your duties in the Velvet Room, not worse.”Elizabeth looks askance in both directions, like she’s worried someone is watching, but also leans forward and relaxes. It’s probably just the cold, but Kotone thinks she sees a little color in her cheeks that wasn’t there before.“If you’re certain, then… lead the way.” Elizabeth answers softly.They’re not even at the first traffic light past the school when Kotone perceives that Elizabeth has fallen a bit behind.“Forgive my tardiness,” Elizabeth asks as she catches up. “I haven’t previously experienced snow. It’s quite enthralling.”“You’re not the one who has to shovel it off the sidewalk,” Kotone responds, but further sarcasm eludes her, because Elizabeth’s prior life experiences are an even bigger puzzle than the rest of her and there’s a good chance that statement is literal truth. Instead she smiles, and tries her best to share in the wonder that’s obviously playing across Elizabeth’s face. And there is beauty here to wonder at - thin pen-strokes of snow atop bare tree branches, the curved eddies of fresh white in the corners where no one has yet walked, the tiny crystalline form of a snowflake that settles on her scarf. More prosaically, the snow also helps to hide some of the Nyx graffiti a little.“You sure you’re not cold or anything?” Kotone asks Elizabeth after about another block, seeing as she’s not dressed for January, she’s dressed for… an elevator, Kotone supposes.“I am not cold, but I am anything,” Elizabeth answers.Before Kotone can entertain what is certain to be a lengthy and confusing digression, they hear a shrill yell from the bus stop on the other side of the street. Two children are playing in a snowbank by the sidewalk while their mother (Kotone assumes) waits for the bus; both several years younger than Ken, they rather resemble red and blue sugar-covered gumdrops in their chunky, oversized parkas. The little boy in blue is lying on his back in the snow; the girl in red stumbles and falls face-first next to him, but doesn’t seem to mind much, bursting into high-pitched giggles.“I didn’t realize snow could be so much fun!” Elizabeth exclaims from the other side of the street.Kotone smiles and sighs. “I mean, it can be when-““We should do something too!” The yellow of Elizabeth’s eyes may not be human, but the eagerness they convey certainly is. It would be even worse than turning down Maiko at the shrine, now, to say no.“Alright then. Snowball fight.” Kotone gives her knuckles a theatrical pop.“Fight?” Elizabeth’s eyebrows shoot up; she’s worryingly excited to hear that word.“Yeah. You start with enough snow you can work it in your hands like this-“ Kotone crouches down, then her bare fingers touch the snow. “It helps to be wearing gloves for this part.” She hastily puts hers back on - she forgot all about taking them off to write a note outside the school gate.“I’m wearing gloves right now!” Elizabeth exclaims, looking down at both her hands as though this is some new revelation. “How fortunate!”“Get the snow into a nice ball,” Kotone continues, as Elizabeth diligently mimics her actions, “and pow!” Kotone throws and lands a clean hit on Elizabeth’s left shoulder, and is rewarded with a satisfying yelp of surprise from her target.“I see.” Elizabeth quickly regains her composure. “Well. My turn now. Here I come!”Kotone lunges to her left to avoid the throw, but isn’t quite quick enough. Elizabeth’s snowball strikes someplace near Kotone’s right ear - and hurts. Her ears ring, stars flash before her eyes, and one hand reaches for an Evoker that isn’t there out of pure reflex. What was that? That hadn’t even been a very hard throw, had it? Did Elizabeth pack her snowball with cement?Kotone looks back at Elizabeth, who merely giggles mildly - she will not receive an answer to any of these questions. But continuing the snowball fight seems unsafe, so it’s time to put Elizabeth on a different track.“You know,” she starts, “there is something else fun we can do, if you don’t mind going on a little adventure with me.” As Kotone had hoped, the word “adventure” seems to pique Elizabeth’s attention. “First, we need to find a hill.”That actually presented a small complication, as all of Port Island, and most of downtown Iwatodai, had been dredged out of the harbor mud and largely lacked topography. Still, Rio had been able to find a nice grassy slope for the tennis club to have a picnic on during the summer that wasn’t too far away.“Do you have bus fare?” Kotone asks Elizabeth, as she fishes around in her pockets. Elizabeth quickly produces the bottomless coin purse she had when they went to the mall together. Dumb question.“Okay, so multiple buses are going to stop here, but we only want to get on number 22.” They cross the street to the bus stop; the two children playing in the snow and their mother must have gotten on another bus while Kotone’s head was still spinning.“I see! It’s like a lottery - selecting one’s lucky number and trusting the result to the winds of fate!”“Uh, sort of, but-“-Once Elizabeth has stuffed the bus’ coin slot with enough change to ride to Okinawa - much to the bemusement of the driver - the two of them move to the back; Elizabeth takes a seat while Kotone stands. The bus starts forward with a lurch, and Kotone quickly notices that Elizabeth is staring at something. Not her, and not another passenger, but rather…“When you see a big red button like that, aren’t you just filled with the urge to press it?” Elizabeth asks, pointing at the “Stop Request” button between the bus windows.“No, that button tells the driver to stop the bus so we can get off. Don’t touch it yet.” Kotone answers.“I see. To think that bus passengers are entrusted with such responsibility!”In lieu of the red button, Elizabeth glues her face to the glass of the bus window, and watches Port Island pass by with the kind of singular intensity Koromaru normally reserved for whoever was preparing his supper that night. Soon the bus is climbing the ramp to Moonlight Bridge; the clatter of the diesel engine competes with a mechanical turbine whine and regular pops of compressed air as Kotone braces herself against the bus’ shaking on rough patches of pavement. Elizabeth turns her attention away from the window for a moment and briefly looks Kotone in the eyes.“Are you having fun?” Kotone asks.“With all the discordant sounds and vibrations, it feels as though I’m riding in the belly of some beast,” Elizabeth observes, turning back to the window. “How ironic that I should be swallowed by a machine, after speculating about eating one myself!” She had, too, sometime in October if Kotone recalls. “Truly fate has a sense of humor.”Elizabeth lets that one sink in for a moment, then asks, “why does that car have a basket handle on its end?”“What?”With one blue-fingered hand Elizabeth gestures towards a car coming up alongside them in the next lane as they cross the bridge.“Oh!” Kotone sees it, and finally realizes what she’s talking about. “That’s a spoiler. It’s supposed to make your car go faster… somehow.”“I see.” She doesn’t really look like she does.Still, Elizabeth has never been one to let uncertainty hold her back, and she quickly moves to new sights to point out and ask questions about. As the bus pulls back into traffic after its first stop on the other side of the bridge, she gestures towards a man standing at a street corner, wearing a khaki raincoat and holding a small notepad.“I think that man is a spy!”“How do you-“ Kotone stops herself. “Be careful. His cell phone is really a camera. Then again, so is mine.”Three more stops pass before Kotone can once more hear the bus’ engine start to strain, and its transmission kick down a gear. They’re in the old, pre-Kirijo part of Iwatodai, climbing a gentle grade - nearly there.“Alright, Elizabeth, are you ready?” she asks.“Hmm?”“To press the button, of course!”-It seems to be snowing harder now than it did when they got on. “This way,” Kotone indicates, her breath visible in little puffs of fog. On their left is a tall iron fence overgrown with bushes and trees; the park Kotone is thinking of is on the other side, with its entrance a block ahead of them. On the right, there’s a row of shops - smaller, quieter ones, in this part of the city where the rent is cheaper.Something seems to be on Elizabeth’s mind, perhaps related to the button, but before either of them can say anything, they’re interrupted by a loud, high-pitched alarm bell. Kotone jerks her head around to the source of the noise, a plain white delivery truck unloading across the street, with an electric lift attached to the tailgate - the alarm sounds when it’s in motion. With a clatter of metal, a delivery man rolls a hand truck stacked with cardboard boxes off into the store labeled Ayase Liquors. He reemerges a moment later, this time carrying a pile of folded-up cardboard boxes under one arm.One of those actually might work. “Hold on a second?” Kotone asks Elizabeth, and crosses the street.“Excuse me, sir?”The delivery man looks her way. Underneath gloves, a hood, and a muffler covering his mouth and nose, there’s almost nothing visible but his eyes. Part of her brain insists that she’s about to make a very silly request for a very silly reason. She channels her inner Elizabeth as best she can.“May I have some of that cardboard?”The man’s eyes say a great deal without a word; first, he squints at her in skepticism, then he looks around as though there might be someone else nearby to delegate this problem to. Finally he shrugs, and hands her one of the flattened cardboard boxes.“Thank you!”Returning to the other side of the street, Kotone traces Elizabeth’s gaze down to the cardboard in her hands.“You’ll find out in a second!” Kotone assures her glibly.Entering the park, Kotone finds just what she had hoped to; a broad, open hillside, covered by a blanket of snow. Shouting and laughter hang on the air; there’s quite a crowd already here, even with the daylight beginning to fade. A middle schooler runs past them holding the lid to a steel garbage can, which he sets down and slides down the hill upon as an improvised toboggan. Elsewhere, a white-haired woman sets an inner tube with two little girls in it spinning down the slope.Kotone looks down the hill and identifies a (relatively) clear path down. Satisfied, she lays the cardboard out flat on the surface of the snow and kneels down on top of it.“Sit behind me,” she tells Elizabeth, patting the space behind her with one hand.Elizabeth does so, and Kotone splays her legs out onto the snow and attempts to kick them into motion. It’s an awkward motion - even more so wearing a skirt - and they get nowhere.“This worked better in my head,” Kotone grumbles, half under her breath. She rises to her feet. “Okay, new plan. Scoot forward a bit.”Elizabeth, who in spite of her curious expression has yet to budge an inch since she sat down, complies; Kotone circles around behind her and places her hands on Elizabeth’s shoulders.“I’m going to give you a push.” Kotone does so; with just one person’s weight on the cardboard, it slides more readily, and she is soon able to break into a run. Elizabeth’s momentum builds as gravity begins to pull her more strongly down the hill. Just as Kotone can feel Elizabeth’s shoulders about to slip out of her grasp, she lunges forward, tumbling onto the cardboard and wrapping her arms around Elizabeth’s waist. They both shout, but remain upright, and their cardboard conveyance rushes down the hillside with a growing, exhilarating speed. Kotone squints against the cold, onrushing air; each snowflake that strikes the skin of her face has a little sting, like the feeling of soda bubbles against her throat when drinking a 1-Up. About halfway down the slope, something more solid strikes the top of her head, and it takes a moment before Kotone realizes Elizabeth’s hat has blown off in front of her. Not that she seems to mind - she simply laughs, and continues to do so until they reach the bottom of the hill and slow to a halt.Elizabeth rises to her feet and exclaims, “That was wonderful!”Kotone smiles. “Glad you enjoyed.”“I had no idea that simply modifying the coefficient of friction of the surface of the ground could produce such effects!”“If you turn the floor of the Velvet Room into an ice skating rink, you and I are going to have a problem,” Kotone warns, mostly but not entirely in jest.“Oh, I wouldn’t consider it!” Elizabeth answers, though the look on her face when Kotone brought up the idea tells her she probably would. “But anyway - we must do this again! If only to retrieve my hat.”So Kotone folds the cardboard box back up under her arm, and they trudge back up the hill, retrieving Elizabeth’s hat along the way. Once they’re back more or less where they started, Kotone lays out the cardboard again, but this time Elizabeth interjects.“Would it not be fair for you to sit down in front this time, and me to push from behind now?”“Um-“ It would be, yes, but after feeling Elizabeth throw a snowball at her-Kotone’s phone beeps loudly before she can finish the thought. There’s a list of older text messages confirming the availability of Fuuka and the seniors tonight - it looks like they’ll be heading to Tartarus this evening after all. But what catches her attention is the newest message on top, which reads simply it’s ready.“Elizabeth?”“Yes?”“I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to cut this short. I just found out I have a delivery to pick up at the dorm before we head in tonight.”For a moment, Elizabeth looks deeply disappointed, but she recomposes herself quickly.“I understand. My amusement should not stand in the way of your mission to Tartarus, especially when innocent lives are at risk.”Kotone sighs and shakes her head. “That’s not it, but… I’ll try and make it up to you at some point, okay?”“No need. You’ve already gone out of your way to indulge me so many times. Then again, that may be why-“ Elizabeth cuts herself off; Kotone doesn’t press further.After depositing the cardboard box in a convenient open recycling bin behind the stationery store on the corner, Kotone and Elizabeth return to the bus stop where they had been dropped off earlier.“This time we’re looking for the number 78-“ Kotone starts.“Oh! So our lucky number has changed!” Elizabeth interjects.Kotone’s eyes fall down to a notice pinned to the bus stop sign. “-which isn’t running today, of course.”A streetlight above their heads switches on; there was probably some other combination of bus routes that would get the job done, but it was getting late. Kotone sighs heavily and pulls out her cell phone to dial up a taxicab.By the time it arrives, the taxi’s headlights glow brightly in the murk of dusk, illuminating individual flakes of falling snow in little flashes of white. Kotone gives the driver the address of the dorm, then slides through the rear door into the tattered vinyl bench seat; Elizabeth sits down beside her, looking around the taxi’s interior busily.“No button this time,” she notes with a hint of disappointment.“The driver already knows where we want to stop,” Kotone explains.“I see.”Despite the encroaching darkness, Elizabeth still presses her face to the window and observes the passing scenery of Iwatodai with the same zeal she had shown on the bus. She points out the world’s most intrepid bicycle delivery man (uphill, in the snow, with like twelve pizza boxes,) a misspelling on a neon sign (Kotone has to explain that it’s actually a brand name and they meant to make it that way,) and a woman walking a cat on a leash (surely a sign of deep social disorder?) before the taxi pulls up out front of the dorm.There’s another car waiting there - a European sedan, not the newest model but immaculately clean. A small decal on the passenger door reads “Shinshoudo Antiques.” Once Kotone has paid the taxi fare, she and Elizabeth climb out to meet the car’s occupant - a face Kotone can recognize even in the dark.“Good evening.” Somehow, even the antique store owner’s most mundane statements come across as portentous. Maybe that’s not entirely in Kotone’s head, either; after all, Tartarus itself saw fit to preserve her diaries, for whatever reason. Light from the dorm windows outlines her thin oval spectacles and paints the stern creases of her face.“Likewise, Kowata-san. Sorry to keep you waiting,” Kotone smiles sheepishly.But Kowata’s attention isn’t directed towards her, Kotone quickly realizes, but to Elizabeth.“Oh! This is Elizabeth. She helps me create the Personas that you use,” Kotone explains. After all this time, even now, she’s still introducing her friends to her other friends. Elizabeth is also, technically, Kowata’s next-door neighbor, given the location of the entrance to the Velvet Room in Paulownia Mall, but there’s no way she can concisely explain that, so Kotone doesn’t mention it.“Elizabeth, this is Kowata-san, she fuses weapons out of my Personas.”“Pleased to meet you.” Elizabeth bows.Kowata nods, and makes her familiar sly, opaque smile, before retrieving a bulky musical instrument case - perhaps meant for a cello, or something - from the rear seats of her car. Kotone unlocks the front door to the dorm for her and props it open, as a gust of wind blows a swirl of snowflakes down the street.Once the instrument case has been hauled into the lounge, Kowata lays it on the floor and opens it - no matter how many times they go through this process, it never stops feeling a bit ridiculous, like they’re consciously reenacting a gangster movie with all the wrong props. But all of that falls away when Kotone grasps the weapon inside.It’s a polearm, but not quite one of her usual naginatas; the long single-edged blade is still there, but it’s joined by a spear point on the end of the green-lacquered wooden shaft. She runs her finger along the lethally sharp edge of the blade, then takes a fighting stance. There’s beauty here, too; in the play of the warm orange lights of the dorm lounge against the iridescent steel, in metal beaten thin and precise as lace, in the way the inertia of the weapon seamlessly becomes her own as she takes a practice swing. It’s so perfectly balanced she’s certain she could hold it aloft on a single fingertip. A voice, one mask among many from deep within her soul, promises her you will rise, higher and higher.“How does it feel?” Kowata asks.“Better than I could have imagined.”Kowata smiles. “Will you be ready?”“Yes.”Kowata collects the instrument case and opens the door to return to her car and her antique store, just in time for a gust of cold night wind to blow a flurry of snow into the lounge; a few tiny crystals settle on the shoulder of Kotone’s blazer.She turns to Elizabeth, who has been watching the whole time with uncharacteristic quiet.“Thank you for today,” Elizabeth finally says softly. Her gaze falls to the naginata still in Kotone’s hands.“This?” Kotone holds it up. “You gave me Kartikeya. Kartikeya gave me this weapon. And I..”She turns her head to watch a snowflake on her shoulder melt into nothing.“…will give all that I can.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

6 January “I’m walking Koromaru!” Ken’s high voice floats up the stairs to the third floor lounge. It isn’t enough to break Kotone’s level stare at the illuminated display of the vending machine. Mad Bull is probably a bit much at this time of the evening. Actually, is she even thirsty at all? “I’m walking Koromaru!” Ken repeats, louder this time. This time Kotone turns and walks down the stairs - they’ve told Ken more than once that he doesn’t need to ask for permission just to walk the dog. Something might be on his mind. Indeed, when she reaches the lounge, Koromaru is waiting patiently by the front door, but Ken is looking in her direction towards the stairs.“Um-” he starts, but immediately stops himself and turns away.“Would you like some company?” Kotone asks.“Okay.” His shoulders seem to loosen just a little. The two of them bundle up for the evening cold, and gather the necessary equipment - mainly just doggie bags and a leash. Koro is well behaved enough to not need the latter, but it helps to have if anyone they meet on the walk raises a fuss. Koromaru dashes out onto the sidewalk as soon as Kotone opens the front door.“Easy there boy!” she cautions the dog, then turns to Ken. “Do anything fun today?” After all, winter break is waning fast.“I tried, but…” Ken’s voice is smaller than usual.“Hm?”“We had been learning about naturalists before the break, so one of our class’ homework assignments was to draw some animals and plants,” Ken explains.“Oh, that sounds like fun,” Kotone replies with a smile. But Ken doesn’t smile in response, so she leaves it at that.“I figured I’d go to the shrine, since even if I didn’t see any birds or squirrels there’d probably be some fallen leaves I could use.” The street crossing light flicks over from red to green.“There was this lady there though, in a blue suit. She came up to me and started talking, about the Fall, and that Nyx would be deliverance. She asked me if I wanted to be saved.”Kotone furrows her brow; Koromaru slows down his brisk walking pace and rubs against Ken’s legs.“I said no. She said she just wanted to help me. I told her-“ Ken falters. “I told her to shut up. I thought she’d get mad after that so I- I ran away,” he finishes with a guilty look. Kotone squeezes one hand into a fist and flexes it beneath her coat pocket; that same bitter feeling she felt reading cult fliers with Yukari is back, clawing its way up her throat. She forces it down; venting it at Ken doesn’t do anyone much good. A heavy truck roars past on the street behind them, flapping the hood on Ken’s jacket askew and ruffling Koromaru’s fur.“I went to the bookshop after that. Bunkichi-san gave me a sticky bun, but all I could think about the whole time was what I should’ve said or done instead. I felt- I don’t know.”“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you did anything wrong,” Kotone assures him evenly. “You told her you weren’t interested, and she - Koro, that’s not food, don’t eat it- if she respected you, she would have listened to that.”“But I-”“Everybody always thinks of the perfect thing to have said after the fact. It doesn’t matter. Won’t matter.” They hesitate at the base of the stairway up to the shrine, just long enough for Kotone to notice, though Koromaru’s tail keeps right on wagging.“She won’t still be there. If she is I’ll kick her ass. C’mon.”That’s enough to get all three of them dashing up the stone steps. Koromaru wins this race, as he always does, leaving Kotone and Ken to catch up to him in that order. At the top, Kotone quickly confirms, “nope, nobody here,” then stops, catching her breath. “Maybe the gods spirited her away for her impudence,” she suggests, once Ken has joined her.“Yeah, right,” Ken retorts, but with a laugh.“Never know. Elizabeth said she felt mysterious presences here.”“Elizabeth?”“Friend of mine.” Nose to the ground, Koromaru sets himself to inspecting the shrine grounds, while Ken and Kotone walk slowly through the quiet, half-lit playground.“Build a sandcastle?” Kotone suggests, when her foot touches down into the sandbox.“My hands would get cold,” Ken answers.“You’re so practical.” Kotone pauses. “I guess it’s not the same without the tide to wash it away, either.” From somewhere near the base of the monkey bars, she hears a soft woof. When neither Kotone nor Ken respond, Koromaru makes a second, slightly louder woof.“Koro better not have found someone’s lost credit card again,” Kotone grumbles in Ken’s general direction, but goes to look nevertheless. But what Koromaru has found is in fact… a frisbee. Kotone picks it up and shakes off a little dirt. Letting the plastic disc settle onto her fingertips, she shouts “Think fast!” and gently tosses it towards Ken.“What- ack!” Ken yelps, but his reflexes are more than sharp enough to make the catch.Kotone and Koromaru watch him expectantly, but Ken shrinks into his thick winter clothing. “I don’t know how to throw one of these,” he admits.“Hey it’s not that hard, I can show you.” Kotone walks back over to him, and takes the proffered disc.  “It’s mostly in your wrist,” she explains, flicking the frisbee a few times without releasing it as Ken watches. Then she hands it back to him, stands behind him, and takes his hand through the motion using her own. “Okay?” She steps aside, then walks about ten paces in front of him. “Give it a try.”Ken draws his hand back - and then suddenly Koromaru is right in front of him, staring up with eager gleaming eyes.“No pressure, right?” Kotone grins. Ken makes a determined expression and attempts a throw. The frisbee slices into the ground to Ken’s right, then rolls towards the benches. Both Koromaru and Kotone make a run for it. She reaches out, but the dog has the advantage of being much closer to the ground. Koromaru grabs the disc in his jaws as Kotone stumbles to stay out of his way.“Ah, darn…” Kotone pants; she can just hear Ken’s muffled laughter. But when she holds out her hand to Koromaru, he drops the frisbee immediately. “I… guess he just wanted to chase it?” Kotone shrugs; Ken does much the same. She then snaps herself up to her full height. “But anyway! You used too much arm there. Watch.” She tosses the frisbee back.“See? My elbow only moved a short distance, and my shoulder barely at all.”Ken tries again; it’s still not quite right, but he’s more on target this time, enough for Kotone to reach out and grab it without another chase; Koromaru is visibly disappointed.“What you’re looking for isn’t the hardest possible throw, it’s getting a good spin on it,” she explains. Her return is just a little high; Ken leaps, but can’t reach it.“Sorry! I promise I didn’t mean to do that!” Ken doesn’t answer, being too busy racing off after Koromaru. They trade several more throws after that, under the glow of the streetlights, Ken’s gradually getting steadier and more accurate. Finally, once the sky has turned fully from blue to black, Ken flicks the frisbee into the air, and this time, it sails. Kotone reaches out, but nowhere close; her hand closes on air.“Got you back!” she hears Ken taunt playfully as she whirls round and chases the frisbee down the shrine stairway, Koromaru hot on her heels. They finally catch up to the thing about two-thirds of the way down, and then retrace their steps; even Koromaru looks to be feeling it once they’re back at the top, but he gamely chases the frisbee anyway when Kotone throws it back in Ken’s direction. “You’re getting the hang of it, I see.” Ken smiles, and his next throw, too, rises smoothly into the air, up to and above Kotone’s eye level, in the direction of-“No! Not again!”Before she can make another three-hundred-step round trip, she leaps up, knocks the frisbee out of the air, grabs it, and lands, limbs all askew. “Wow! That was almost a Neo Featherman pose!” Ken remarks admiringly.“Ha, I try.” Kotone spins the plastic disc around on her finger. “Didja catch this week’s episode?”Ken hesitates. “Yeah, but…”Kotone tilts her head curiously.“…I don’t like cliffhangers,” Ken admits.“You’ll be watching next week though, won’t you?”“Hey! I get why they do it,” Ken protests. “Actually there was one thing I didn’t really understand.”“Yeah?”“What was that thing Feather Black said when they got surrounded by the Maroon Myriad? Do not go gentle?” Ken stumbles over the unfamiliar English words.“It’s quoting a poem, by a Welsh poet named Dylan Thomas. The rest of the line goes:
Do not go gentle into that good night
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.” Ken kneels down to give a treat to Koromaru, looking a bit pensive. “I don’t think any of the kids who watch Featherman would get that.”“Sometimes they include things like that for the parents watching.”Ken doesn’t look convinced.“Failing that - maybe one of the writers just liked the poem.” Kotone shrugs. “I mean - I like it.” Ken shivers with nearly enough magnitude to unwind his scarf, and gives her a look.“Time to head back before Mitsuru sends out a search party,” Kotone confirms. She drops the frisbee right where she found it, by the base of the monkey bars, and gives Koromaru’s fur a friendly ruffle. All three of them begin down the stone steps together, slowly this time. “Good stars tonight,” Ken observes, gazing up towards the sky.“You’ll trip on the stairs.”“I will not.”In spite of herself, Kotone looks up too. “You’re right, it’s beautiful.” She can’t recall ever being able to see the pale track of the Milky Way in Iwatodai’s light pollution before. They continue down the stairway in an almost reverential quiet for a minute or two. “Ow!”“Kotone?”“…I tripped.”