“… I still don’t understand why he didn’t pass out from that head wound when barely an hour before, he fainted because he, apparently, lost too much blood from that abdominal injury, which had clearly been more minor than that large gash in the head. It doesn’t make any sense—where is the consistency?” Mitsuru wondered out loud. Beside her, Shinji just shrugged, wanting to turn a deaf ear to his red-headed friend’s remarks. Akihiko shook his head and threw him a look that seemed to say I told you we should have picked another movie.

The three of them had just been to the cinema and was on their way to dinner. It was Akihiko’s birthday and Shinji had bought them tickets to a violent, action-packed R-18 movie. It was a typical American flick but one that had evidently filled Mitsuru with more curiosity than satisfaction. Granted, it was her first time at the movies, so she came out of the theatre in an unexpectedly talkative mood…

“How was it possible that he never got a single scratch even though he was chased up and down a building with people shooting at him?” (“It’s Hollywood. Screw the logic.” That was Shinji.)

“Why didn’t the antagonist just pull the trigger when he had the chance? Surely he didn’t need to explain his whole plan to someone he was intending to kill anyway?” (“The audience can’t read minds, Mitsuru.”)

“Why must they always have the damsel in distress? I’m sure no girl could be that helpless when her life is in danger…” (“… Are ya comparing her to yourself or somethin’?”)

“Why didn’t they ever run out of bullets? I didn’t see any spare ammunition.” (“… They pulled them out of their asses when we weren’t looking.”)

“How could they just start copulating on the car? Surely that must be an immensely uncomfortable position?” (“They were horny, what else?”)

Akihiko reddened at the last question. He didn’t know which was worst then—the experience of actually having to watch a couple having rough, passionate sex on screen with Mitsuru next to him, or the very fact that she had just said the word ‘copulate’ (which was just a fancy term for ‘screwing each other’s brains out’, he reckoned).

“It wasn’t too bad. I kinda liked it, actually,” he said. “Thanks again, Shinji.”

At his words, Mitsuru blushed and smiled sheepishly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude,” she said apologetically. “It was a truly interesting experience, albeit rather questionable at times… but I really did enjoy myself, so thank you, Shinjiro.”

Shinji grunted in response, not saying anything more, but both his companions knew he meant well. They walked down a busy street in town and stopped at a Chinese restaurant at the end. “This the place, Aki?” Shinji asked.

“Yup. I haven’t been here before but it wouldn’t hurt to try it out, right?” The boxer said, looking inquiringly at Mitsuru, who nodded in agreement. They entered and took a table near the door.

“The ambience is quite pleasant,” Mitsuru remarked and Akihiko wondered if this was her first time at a restaurant like this.  “You must have had Chinese before,” he told her and she suddenly seemed a little embarrassed. “Well, yes,” she slowly said. She decided not to add that the only Chinese food she ever had were the dishes they served in ten-course dinners.

There was a moment of silence as they studied their menus. Shinji took one quick scan before reaching out to fiddle around with his chopsticks, leaning back languidly in his seat. He knew what he wanted—he always ordered the same dish at every Chinese restaurant.

Mitsuru, on the other hand, was reading intently, her eyes bright and curious behind red bangs. Akihiko was slipping off his gloves, wondering if he should go for the ginger beef noodles or stick to good old combination fried rice (It’s a fool-proof dish, right? Surely no chef could mess that up…). The noodles were cheaper (and probably oilier, echoed a voice in his head) but he did feel like some rice now. Was it worth the extra 120 yen?

All of a sudden, he was hit by a panic attack. Shit, do I even have enough to pay for dinner? The restaurant wasn’t a particularly expensive one but he definitely knew of some other cheaper places. He felt bad having such thoughts, especially since he had told his friends that he’d be footing the bill, but it wasn’t his fault that protein shakes cost a fortune and his only allowance came from social services…!

He did some quick calculations in his head. Shinji would obviously be having the omelette rice (450…) and Mitsuru… she didn’t look close to deciding at all. If he got the rice (550… That’s 1000 total…), that would leave about 700 yen for Mitsuru’s meal and their desserts… He mustn’t forget about the service tax and the tea and extra rice Shinji would probably want…

Damn, what if Mitsuru orders something I can’t afford? He inwardly cringed. It would be overwhelmingly embarrassing to be unable to pay for a dinner that was supposed to be his birthday treat. Clearly, he hadn’t thought the whole idea through. He should have just bought some takoyaki or ramen for them, or maybe started saving up a few months ago. Too late now… Maybe Shinji could help him out a bit…

“Are you ready to order?” The waitress was a middle-aged lady with a beaming smile, a notepad and pen in hand.

“Gimme a 21,” Shinji answered at once.

“Chicken and beef omelette rice,” the lady announced, penning it down, and then turned to Akihiko. “And you?”

“Uh… I’ll have the ginger beef noodles…” Akihiko said rather hesitantly. Oh well… He’d work off the calories tomorrow. At least his bank account won’t suffer.

“… And you, miss?”

Mitsuru was frowning, still studying the menu diligently. She shook her head and said, “I honestly don’t know what to choose. They all look and sound delicious… Why don’t you order for me, Akihiko?”

“Okay…” His eyes immediately leapt to the cheapest dish—70 yen, 6 wontons. NO. He wanted to kick himself. He was not going to feed one of his closest friends an entrée just because he was feeling a little stingy. Granted, Mitsuru was a small eater (that, along with their activities at midnight, was probably how she kept such a slender form) but ordering something like that for her was just plain rude.

“She’ll have the fried rice,” Akihiko found himself telling the waitress, who nodded, took their menus back and left them with another smile.

He turned back to the others. It was their first meal with just the three of them since Shinji’s return and probably only the third time they had dined together since their friendship with Mitsuru began. It was usually difficult trying to fit into her schedule—she was almost always busy with school work, company matters or training Penthesilea. She had made sure she kept tonight available, though, and for that, he was grateful. It felt just like old times again.

                                                 --

After Akihiko paid the bill (Phew…), they left the restaurant and headed to the station. There were other people waiting for the 7.30 train as well and they hung around near some vending machines, not wanting to get caught in the rush later.

“Soda?” Shinji asked laconically as he took some coins out of his pockets. Mitsuru declined and, after a moment’s thought, Akihiko shook his head. He turned to the large clock hanging on the wall—13 more minutes.

Shinji bought a can of Cielo Mist, pushed the lid open and took a big gulp… before breaking into a violent cough. Some of the other waiting passengers glanced at him.

“Are you alright?” Mitsuru asked gently. Akihiko wasn’t very worried. Shinji probably just choked. “Shit,” the dark-haired senior hissed, coughing into his hand, soda spilling from the can onto the floor, but that was the least of Akihiko’s concern. He had seen the smears of red on Shinji’s palms.

“Is that blood?” he spoke out, now alarmed. Even Mitsuru seemed taken aback but Shinji merely cleared his throat and muttered under his breath, “It’s nothin’…” He chucked his unfinished can of soda into the nearby bin, as if everything that happened was routine.

Maybe it was his nonchalance, but anger suddenly filled Akihiko, like air inflating a balloon. This wasn’t just something he could let go. “Shinji, are you okay?” The moment the words left his lips, he immediately knew it was a stupid question. How the hell could coughing up blood ever be okay?

The pills… their side-effects… Akihiko didn’t know what exactly triggered that thought in his head. Shinji was turning to walk away but the boxer grabbed hold of his shoulder and stopped him firmly. “Are you still taking the drugs?” he asked, his voice tight and challenging. Shinji cast him a cold glare and forcefully tore himself from his grip. “Mind your own fucking business, Aki,” he growled and walked off to the bathroom.

Staring after him, Akihiko had the urge to follow him and give him a good, strong punch in the face again. He clenched his fists, taking in a deep breath and turned to find Mitsuru looking at him with a concerned expression. She had heard what he said. “You meant the suppressants, didn’t you? The ones Shinjiro gave the Strega girl at the hospital,” she said softly.

He sighed heavily and ran a hand in his hair, suddenly feeling lost and powerless. “I know he’s still taking them. He won’t tell me anything and everytime the subject comes up, he shuts down completely,” he quietly replied, moving to her as she leaned against the wall. “You know the side-effects. He’s killing himself, Mitsuru, and he won’t listen to me. What am I supposed to do? How can I help him?” he pled.

She was silent, staring at him with a troubled look and honestly not knowing what to say. He sighed again, closing his eyes and rubbing them. “Some birthday, huh…?” he mumbled in resignation. He felt her rest a hand lightly on his arm, perhaps in an effort to comfort him, and he wanted to reach out and touch her, as if needing something solid to hold on to for a while.

“The train will be arriving shortly on Platform B. Please stand clear of the doors,” an announcement was made in the hall just as Shinji reappeared, hands deep in his pockets in his usual posture. He wordlessly joined the small crowd waiting at the side, not even glancing up when Mitsuru and Akihiko approached him. The silver-haired boxer bit his lip miserably. After their brief conversation, the atmosphere had suddenly turned tense and moody.

                                                --

The walk from the station was as silent as the train ride a few minutes before. Shinji trudged mutely ahead of his friends but stopped when he reached the front doors of the dorm, loitering around aimlessly. Akihiko raised an eyebrow at him. Did he want to say something?

“Akihiko,” Mitsuru’s voice beside him made him turn to her.

“Huh?”

“I need to talk to you. Could you wait here for a moment?” She gestured towards the doorstep. “I just need a minute to get something from my room and I’ll be right down.”

“Um, sure,” he replied, his curiosity piqued. Was it a present? He hoped not—he had always made it clear he didn’t need anything for his birthday, especially from his friends.

When Mitsuru entered the dorm, Shinji still stood by the doors, looking at Akihiko with an unusual expression akin to amusement. “Guess ya won’t want me around for your date, huh?” he remarked.

Annoyance flared within Akihiko. “Shut up,” he said hotly and Shinji actually snickered. He slipped off his beanie and raked a hand in his messy hair, scratching his head slowly. “Listen, Aki,” he started in a quiet tone. “Some of us just aren’t like you. Our personas are supposed to be a part of us, but that doesn’t mean everyone has perfect control of ‘em. Sometimes they might not be somethin’ we even want…” He paused, looking at the beanie in his hands and putting it on again. “Sometimes… I just wanna forget, so don’t you fucking judge me. I ain’t afraid to die, you know that.”

It was by far the most he had ever spoken about the drugs and Akihiko wanted to say something in response, wanted to tell him that not fearing death was no reason to do something as stupid as that, but he found himself unable to verbalise his thoughts as he watched his childhood friend walk up the steps to the dorm and disappear behind the doors.

Why was he acting as if no one else cared about him? Did he think it was some sort of way to atone for what he did to Ken Amada and his mother? Carelessly tossing his life away for the one he took two years ago?

Akihiko tucked his hands in the pockets of his pants and raised his gaze to the sky. It was a clear, quiet autumn night and he inhaled deeply, the woody scent of trees filling his lungs. The evening had started out fun but it was strange how something so pleasant could change in a blink of an eye. He sighed heavily.

The sound of the dorm door opening brought his thoughts back to earth and he saw Mitsuru coming down the steps, a folder in one hand and her handbag in the other. His face must have still looked sombre because she stopped momentarily and asked, “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah,” he answered smoothly. His eyes skipped over the brown manila folder she was holding. What was that?

“Come,” Mitsuru said cordially. “Walk with me.”

His eyebrows arched up but he complied and followed her as they strolled down the street towards a playground that was in the neighbourhood. He wondered if it was a grave matter she was intending to speak to him about. She had never requested his company like this before.

“… What are your plans for next year, Akihiko?” she inquired, tucking a red curl behind an ear and glancing at him.

He thought about it for a moment and then shrugged. “Well… dunno, to be honest,” he admitted. “Don’t think I’d want a desk job… Heh, I can’t even imagine myself going to college. Who knows, I might end up joining the army or somethin’. I think they have an ‘earn and learn’ program going on…”

His answer seemed to surprise her and she slowed down her steps, looking more serious. “Are you… concerned about the financial implications of tertiary study?” she asked rather tactfully. Privately, Akihiko was quite impressed by her choice of words—they were just Mitsuru’s way of asking him, “Dude, are you too poor to attend college?”

“Well… kinda,” he said with another shrug.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to get a scholarship. The Kirijo Group offers some for students who are not financially sound. I’d be more than happy to put in a good name for you and sort out the application,” she offered and he found himself blushing. This was a little embarrassing… He wasn’t used to discussing the subject with someone other than Shinji, especially with a person as wealthy as her… “Education is one of the most valuable things a person should have,” continued Mitsuru. “Don’t hold yourself back simply because of money. You know I’m always ready to help, don’t you?”

“Uh… yeah, thanks. I’ll… I’ll think about it. I still have months to go, right?” He grinned at her. “What about you? Got next year sorted already?”

The smile she gave him was thin and almost resigned, he thought, and when she spoke, he couldn’t tell if her tone was one of regret. “There’s only ever been one path for me to take. I’m considering studying abroad, though,” she said. “England, to be more specific. I’ve read so many wonderful things about the place.”

He nodded silently, knowing that, given the time, she’d love to travel the world.

The playground was empty save for a few stray cats curled up on the fences. They sat down on one of the benches and he turned to her expectantly. She smoothed down her skirt, her bag atop the folder on her lap, and met his gaze. “Okay… I know you’ve always said you don’t need gifts for your birthday, Akihiko,” she started. “But seeing as this is our last year of high school, and quite possibly the last year we will be together, I wanted to get something special for you… as a thank you as well, for helping me all these years, and to show that you really are dear to me.”

His cheeks flushed again. He wasn’t used to hearing her say words like that. She reached into her handbag, took out a velvety dark blue case and handed it to him. “I’m sorry it’s not wrapped.”

“No problem, really,” he sincerely said and when he opened the case, his eyes widened. It was a sleek, stylish dress watch with a black leather strap and a platinum coloured face, the glow from the streetlights gleaming off its shiny edges. He could only say one word, “Wow.”

“Do you like it?” she asked hesitantly.

“I do. It’s awesome, Mitsuru. I’ve never had anything like this before. Thanks!”

“I had your name engraved on the back,” she pointed out, gesturing towards the gift. “And I thought silver would match your hair.”

He carefully took out the watch and turned it over, peering closely. Carved on the shiny, metallic surface in exquisite letters were the words ‘To Akihiko Sanada, Happy 18th Birthday’. She had added her initials at the bottom as well. He smiled at her warmly and when she smiled back, he suddenly had the urge to reach out and give her a tight hug, but instead he said, “Thanks, Mitsuru. It’s perfect. I’ll treasure it.”

Her eyes were soft, almost tender, but she looked away for a second and then took the folder on her lap. “There’s something else I need to tell you,” she said, her tone suddenly changing to be grim. He raised his eyebrows again, knowing in his guts that this wasn’t going to be as pleasant. “I know it’s not that big a deal in Japan, but in some countries, you come of age when you’re 18, and… I think that this is the right time to let you know,” Mitsuru explained quietly, making him slowly start to wonder if he should be alarmed. “Do you remember last year, I asked you about the orphanage? Your sister and your parents?”

Akihiko frowned, trying to take his mind back. He vaguely recalled the conversation—she had inquired about his childhood and family one afternoon, and he had told her how he and Miki were sent to the orphanage after their mother’s death in a car accident. He was so young he barely even remembered her face. They never knew their father and they didn’t have any other living relatives, according to the people in charge. It was a topic he learnt to be comfortable talking about as time passed, knowing that being evasive or bitter wouldn’t change anything. “Yeah, I remember… a ‘lil…” he responded slowly.

“What you said really stuck with me… I can’t imagine growing up without ever knowing my family or where I came from. It’d be like losing an inherent part of myself, somehow,” she murmured and bit her lip, averting her eyes with a soft sigh. “…Perhaps it was my way of satisfying my own desire to do something for you, so I decided to investigate, do a little digging around. I managed to get some help from the Group—they have contacts for matters like this—and it was immensely difficult at first, since we didn’t have anything solid to work on except your last name, but after half a year, we…” She trailed off as he stared at her long and hard, suddenly knowing what she was getting at. Holding up the manila folder, she continued slowly, “Your mother didn’t have any living family when she died and there were no traces of any other relatives from her end, so we focused our search on your paternal side, and… we found someone. He might be a distant uncle or a cousin, but I think… I think there is a high possibility he might be your father, Akihiko.”

He looked at her serious countenance, a finger unconsciously rubbing the velvet of the watch case, and then shifted his attention to the plain folder in her hand. He wondered why he wasn’t quite as shocked as he expected to be when she said those words. Maybe it was because she hadn’t just thrust the fact into his face without easing him in, or maybe it was because a part of him knew that it was no surprise the Kirijo Group had such capabilities. They were one of the most influential and powerful players in the corporate world, after all.

“… The information’s in there?” Akihiko pointed at the folder and she nodded. He stared at it, his mind blank for a moment, and didn’t know if he should grab it from her and read it, or let that part of his life go. He had come this far without knowing anything anyway, so what did it really matter? Besides, it might be the wrong person… Maybe his father had already been dead even before his mother… Maybe the investigation followed a wrong lead and they ended up finding someone who was in no way related to him at all… She did say the only thing they had to work on was Sanada…

“I’m sorry, I know it wasn’t my place to do such a thing,” Mitsuru hastily said. She must have misinterpreted his expression of uncertainty. “If you so choose, I will dispose of everything in here and not pursue the matter any further. I just thought that you have the right to know.”

He took in a deep breath and leaned forward, his eyes resting on the ground below them. “… I do have the right to know,” he whispered and the moment he said that, he had made up his mind. “But even so… I don’t think I want to, Mitsuru. Please just get rid of that.”

There was a brief silence before she sighed again, setting the folder back on her lap. “I wish I could say I understand…” Her tone was one of puzzlement. “But I’d be lying if I did. Aren’t you a tiny bit curious? If you have family somewhere out there, wouldn’t you want to seek them out?”

She was surprised when he gave a chuckle, smoothing back his hair and standing up from the bench. “I’ve been fine on my own for more than a decade already, and I’m not entirely alone,” he pointed out with a small grin and patted his chest. “I have Miki with me. I have friends. I have Shinji. I have you. That’s my family now. It might not be one by blood, but it’s enough for me. You’re the ones that keep me going, and that’s all I need. I don’t think tracking this guy down is gonna change anything. I’m happy the way things are now.”

Mitsuru studied him without a word, her forehead furrowed slightly, never realising that he thought of her that way. Finally, she nodded and picked up the folder and her bag, moving to stand near him. “I admire your strength,” she said, sincere and earnest. He scratched his jaw, a little unsure. He had always thought she was the stronger one between them. “And I respect your decision. I… may not fully agree with your opinion, but, well, I suppose that’s what makes us different in our own ways, huh?”

“Yeah,” he agreed and once more, there was a pause.

“… I’m sorry, Akihiko. I thought that this would be the right time to tell you, and that maybe what I’ve found would help you somehow, but perhaps I made an error of judgement,” Mitsuru spoke out, her eyes troubled and regretful. “Today is supposed to be a happy occasion for you, but after that matter with Shinjiro just now… I’m sorry if I made things worse with my—”

“Hey, hey,” he cut in, holding up a hand. “It’s cool, Mitsuru. Today’s been awesome with you guys, and I’m touched that you’ve done so much for me.” He lifted her gift, beaming widely. “You don’t have to apologise for anything, especially Shinji’s behaviour. He can be shitty like that.”

She cocked her head to the side and raised an eyebrow, smiling at his use of that adjective. “I enjoyed myself today, too,” she said truthfully.

“I’m glad you did. You were pretty down after that typhoon cancelled the festival… I know you worked really hard at organising everything…”

“It couldn’t be helped,” she sighed. “On the bright side, I did get some time off to relax for a while, so I’m not too concerned that we had to forego the festival this year…”

He chuckled, nodding concurringly, and tucked his present carefully into the pocket of his jacket. “I guess every cloud does have a silver lining, huh? Come on, let’s head back. The wind’s pickin’ up.”

                                                --

They found Koromaru and Aigis outside the dorm when they got home. The dog was sniffing the trees, searching for the perfect spot to answer nature’s call, while Aigis stood silently by the steps. “Greetings,” she called out to Akihiko and Mitsuru when she saw them.

“Hello, Aigis,” the redhead replied and the mechanical girl’s next words sent Akihiko blushing, “How was your ‘date’?”

“Dammit, did Shinji tell you to say that?” He frowned, very irritated, and muttered under his breath, “Bastard…”

Mitsuru just laughed quietly, brushing some of her tresses over her shoulder, and coolly responded, “It went very well. Thank you, Aigis.” Then she walked up to open the door and enter the dorm, Akihiko trailing behind her sourly, still a little annoyed.

It was only when he reached his room that he realised Mitsuru had answered the android without correcting her at all…