Connection 32: Misunderstandings


Friday

Keima frowned a bit as cries of agony and the gnashing of teeth filled the hallway outside the shogi club room. Students from neighboring clubs cracked open the club room doors to check out why there were senior high school boys wailing like babies. One look at two crumpled, writhing bodies answered all inquiries, and the bystanders wisely remained bystanders and retreated back into the safety of their club rooms.

The bespectacled boy took a step back as a third body flew his way. It landed unceremoniously onto the two other bodies, causing all three of them to groan and reach for their poor injured joints in an effort to assuage the pain, even if just a little bit. While he didn't care about the fate of the Parsley Boys, he was a man too, and when one man witnesses another get kicked in the nether regions by someone of her caliber, wincing in natural empathy was a reflex.

The girl responsible for the thrashing of the most threatening yet lamest group of thugs in the school dusted her hands off, zero evidence of exertion present. She stepped over the thugs to reach Keima's side like she was avoiding stepping on a pile of dog poop. "I've taken out the trash, as you've asked."

"Thanks," Keima said, making his way into the club room. Aside from the mess the lifestyle of delinquents brought to the room, there was no sign of fighting at all. Well, what had occurred earlier wasn't less of a fight and more of a one-sided beatdown. With no damaged floorboards or tables to mend, all Keima would need to do was a bit of tidying up, and it would be a good place for his future lackeys to practice.

"That's no issue, it's always a pleasure to use my skills to mete out justice," the martial artist replied, cracking her knuckles. "I had been planning on using those dummies as target practice since the start of the term, but I had no idea they had fled to this place and called it home. Perhaps I should thank you for telling me their new hideout."

"Well, if you really feel that way, would you like to join the shogi club? Just for a few weeks."

"No, I've no interest in that kind of bout." An expected answer. Still disappointing, but it didn't hurt to try.

Hmm, speaking of disappointing... "By the way, I'll be busy this weekend, so I won't be able to go to Uemoto-ya."

Kusunoki's gentle features hardened into a frown. "That's a true shame. You'll, of course, make it up to the two of us, correct?"

If Keima didn't know any better, he would have seen that as a threat. He looked at the heap of delinquents nearby. They had ceased groaning and had settled for fainting to escape their aching bodies. He decided to make sure what Kusunoki had said wouldn't turn into a threat, lest he end up like those losers.

It took him a few seconds to calculate a response. "Well, are you free today? Perhaps we can move the Uemoto-ya tradition to today for just this week."

Kusunoki tucked one arm under her chest, the other rising so her hand could grasp her chin. She hummed in consternation. "Hmm... alright, dinner it is, then. Half past six?"

Keima gave a nod.

"Very well," she continued, fishing out a chunky looking feature phone from her skirt pocket. Durable, yet still able to interface with the latest apps. Suited her to a T. "I'll message Uemoto-san."

The bell rang, and the two made their way back to their respective classrooms, leaving the Parsley Gang in their wake. As the two reached the stairwell, Keima's eyes caught Tenri's as she scaled up the stairs. She must have eaten her food outside since she was clutching an empty bento box in her hand. For a second, she smiled, but as if she was struck with lighting, her demeanor fell. With sharp eyes, she brushed her bangs away from her eyes as she strode up to the two.

Keima couldn't help but feel like he had angered her. After racking his brain for a bit, he recalled a similar instance when the two had first reunited. A sudden mood swing, almost imperceptible aside from the look in her eyes - just like what she was doing now. Just what was going on with his childhood acquaintance?

He just hoped it wouldn't trigger any weird flags. His hands were tied at the moment. Perhaps he would investigate this after the weekend just so that invisible flags wouldn't end up biting him in the arse.

"Good afternoon, Keima-kun," Diana asked, hands on her hips and her brows furrowed. She turned to the girl to his right. "I'm afraid we haven't met before. I'm Tenri Ayukawa, class 2-D."

"Kusunoki Kasuga, class 3-A. It's a pleasure to meet another one of Katsuragi's friends." Keima wasn't sure if Kusunoki had noticed it, but he was sure Tenri's eye had twitched when the martial artist had said his name.

"So, Kasuga-senpai, what were you and Keima up to this lunch break?" Blunt.

Kusunoki waved a hand dismissively. "Nothing much, just helped him out with some shogi club errands. Is there something wrong?"

"Just curious, is all," Diana said. "Have a good day, Kasuga-senpai."

"Likewise, Ayukawa-san." With one last glance at Keima, Kusunoki ascended the stairs, leaving the two in front of the staircase.

"Never thought you'd be the type to join a club, Keima-kun, but I suppose a shogi club suits you."

Keima felt reluctant to give her any more details, but he supposed he had to start recruitment somewhere. "It's a student council job. I have to assemble a shogi team in time for an upcoming competition. Kusunoki helped clear out a place to practice."

He saw Tenri smirk. He had never seen Tenri smirk. Before Kanon, he probably would have been surprised but mostly unaffected; however, now he knew that subtle deviations from the norm were a sign that a radically different personality was lying in wait. If he had no plans to keep an eye on Tenri, now he did.

"Perhaps I should join this team of yours. I've never lost a shogi match in my life. In fact, I'm pretty sure I could beat even you, Mr. Gamer."

Keima couldn't hold back a toothy grin. "Doubtful, but we'll put that to the test once I have the team fully assembled-"

"Ah, wait," Diana interjected, holding out a hand to stop him, "I still haven't decided. This is a quid pro quo, after all."

Keima raised an eyebrow. He wasn't sure if he'd find any suitable replacements, so if her request wasn't too absurd, he might just have to acquiesce.

Just please, nothing for this weekend. Every single time slot was full. Literally.

"Alright, for the next week, you have to walk me home every day after school," Diana said, pointing a digit at the boy. Keima inwardly sighed in relief.

'E-every day?' Tenri squealed. If she had taken over her body at that moment, her face would be shaded in crimson. 'Isn't that a little t-too forward?'

'Tenri, if I'm honest, this isn't nearly forward enough. We must make him yours as soon as possible!'

While the two psyches clashed, Keima felt a buzz in his pocket. He paled considerably, the color drained from his face. He grimaced at his pitiable state. It's like Kanon had used Pavlovian conditioning to make him feel immense dread whenever he'd receive a LINE message. Mustering what little courage still dwelled in his body, Keima opened his phone. Perhaps it was a message from his mother to tell him she had deposited MOM funds into his bank account, or even a message from Tsukiyo gushing about her progress in one of the games he had lent her.

Of course, it wasn't either one of those.

"Hiiiiiiiiiiii, Keima!" the text message read. "I miss you soooooooooo much! Anyway, I'm already so tired, and it's been barely half a work day. You know what will pump me full of energy? A new picture from my beloved Keima! Would you please send me one? It would surely make my day!"

Before Keima could even groan, the phone buzzed in his hand once again.

This message was shorter. "Send one."

Keima looked up. It seemed that Tenri was still deep in thought. He could manage to sneak in a decent selfie, but he did not feel like summoning the energy to pose. With his phone at chest level, Keima quickly took the picture. Because of the angle, it was far from flattering, making it look like his chin and neck were fat and his forehead small. Keima really didn't care and hit send.

He got a reply instantly. "CUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUTE 3 3 3"

Another. "I'm all fired up now! I guess I should return the favor huh?"

Keima's face started showing hints of blue as he looked at the photo she had just sent him. It was a shot of Kanon from the collarbone up. She was in a dressing room of some sort, dressed in seemingly very little, judging from the lack of straps on her shoulders. Both hands grasped the base of a banana as its tip was pressed against a pair of red lips. Kanon's eyes were directed right at the camera lens, and her contact lenses made her pupils look like hearts.

The caption: us on our monthsary

'...Did I just get a game CG in real life?' Keima groaned, slamming his finger on the home button to get the image off of his screen. He's mentioned this before, and he was certain he'd mention it again in the future.

Kanon Nakagawa was going to be the death of him.


It was a typical day in Maijima High's large library. Shiori fulfilled her duties as usual - organize misplaced books, file reports on students who have late books, encode returned books into the system. That last bit still irked her a bit - she continued to feel nostalgic for the Dewey decimal system, but her fellow students have long since stopped using it and have instead just referenced the database on the library computers. Sure, it made life a whole lot easier for both the readers and the librarians, but she couldn't help but feel that some tactility was lost when the Dewey decimal system was left by the wayside.

She pushed those random thoughts out of her head as she returned to the help desk. Aside from her, there was one other girl manning the booth at that time - Fujiidera. She was busy processing books newly ordered by the school, and normally, Shiori would leave her to her work, but that day was different.

"Um, Fujiidera-senpai?" Shiori said, causing the older girl to look up from the book she had in her hands. "I know this is on such short notice, but would it be possible to have someone take over my shift tomorrow?"

The bespectacled girl put a finger to her chin. "Hmm, I suppose I can cover for you - tomorrow's shift is shortened by tomorrow's track meet anyway. I don't have to tell you not to make this a habit, correct?"

"O-of course!" Shiori said, flapping her arms about frantically. "Something sudden just popped up. I'll make sure to inform the committee well in advance next time this happens."

"I hope you do." Fujiidera's features softened. "This is a surprising turn of events, however. I would have never thought that Shiori Shiomiya would willingly miss library duties. What is happening tomorrow, if I may ask?"

Shiori's face instantly reddened. Fujiidera's eyes widened, and a small smile appeared on her face. "Well, congratulations are in order, Shiomiya-san. I'm glad Katsuragi has finally worked up the courage to ask you out. Have fun with your boyfriend."

Somehow the flustered girl managed to shake her head. "B-boyfriend!? No, it's not like that."

"Oh, I see," she replied, her smile not dropping. "At least he already agreed on a date. After a few more of those with a girl like you, he'd want to go steady for sure."

Not like Fujiidera had much experience with that sort of thing, but she had a good head on her shoulders. Shiori was conventionally attractive, they were both introverted, Keima was a miracle worker - they'd be able to work out any kinks.

Apparently, Shiori didn't see it quite the same way. Her frantic arm waves died down, replaced with a deep frown and a tired sigh. "I don't know... there's a lot of competition."

Fujiidera put a finger to her chin. She was surprised Shiori wasn't the only girl in line for the infamous Otamegane, so she wasn't quite sure what to say. Another look at the pouting kouhai of hers made her frown too. "I may be a bit of a plain Jane, but perhaps a wardrobe change could be the thing to knock Katsuragi's socks off. If you'd like, we can go shopping for new clothes after our shift here is done."

Shiori couldn't help but feel a gentle warmth burgeon deep in her chest. Was she finally making friends? Was her relationship with Keima not a one-and-done thing? She smiled warmly at the thought that even if she ended up losing the race for her beloved's heart, he still left her the courage to reach out of her shell and interact with others.

Still, she didn't want to settle for just that. Fuujidera-senpai was right; Shiori had to knock his socks off, and she needed all the help she could get.

"Alright, Fujiidera-senpai. I'll take you up on your offer!"


Chihiro sat on one of the bleachers encircling the track oval, chowing down on her recently purchased meat bun as she watched her friends work their butts off. She wanted to greet them, but she also didn't want to distract them from their practice. Judging by just how hard they were sweating and heaving, it was obvious to the musician-in-waiting that their coach was working them to the bone. All she could do was wish them well in her heart.

Once her meat bun was done, she lobbed the wrapper into the nearby trash can and went on her merry way. Watching her friends do their best made her want to do her best too, but how? She supposed she could write some music, but she was in the middle of a writer's block. She already practiced her current track list for hours every day, but she still felt the need to do even more.

Something in the back of her mind prodded her - the studio fees. The three of them would have to practice together at least once a week, preferably multiple times a week. The fees would definitely add up over the course of their junior year. Maybe this was more trouble than it was worth.

Then, Chihiro recalled her time with Keima in the studio. It was short, just a couple of minutes to play one of her singles, but the gentle smile he held as she enjoyed the fruit of her labor powered her up. If Otamega could find her music that good, she was sure it could please most other people too. If she and her friends could find joy in that, Chihiro was sure it would be worth it in the end.

Hmm... Keima. He had a part-time job, right? Maybe they had more positions to fill. Okay, new plan: find Keima and ask him about the Aoyama bakery.

She wasn't quite sure where to find the gamer, so she shot him a message and let her gut lead the way. Maybe she'd go check out the bakery first. He might be working already.

As she made her way towards the gate, from the corner of her eye, she spotted the man in question lugging a fat stack of documents, on his way out of the senior high building.

Lucky! Her casual stroll picked up into a jog as she caught up to her classmate.

"Oi, Katsuragi!" Chihiro said, noticing the strained look on the boy's face. "Hey, you don't look so good."

She reached out and took half the stack. She held it gingerly in her hands. It was heavier than it looked, but after lugging around her guitar, she was sure she could carry the weight. "There, that's better."

"...What do you want?" Keima asked, neither sounding pleased nor annoyed. Most people would be put off by such a reply, but Chihiro guessed she was starting to get used to his bluntness.

Just a few weeks ago, she wasn't quite sure she'd be able to say that. It was certainly strange how some things could turn out.

"I'm in need of funds to rent the studio, so I'm thinking of getting a part-time job. Does that bakery you work at need another part-timer?"

"I don't know. I don't work there anymore." Keima replied. Another flag. Great. Still, if he had made the calculations correctly, this flag might be able to take care of a different one. Keima recalled Mio and what he saw in her when he peeked into 2-A to pick up Tsukiyo that one time. He also remembered that the blonde had followed him and Kanon recently. That flag needed to be reigned in, and maybe Chihiro was up to the task.

He ignored that other part of him.

Keima continued, "Well, I guess I can introduce you to the Aoyamas after I'm done with this." He looked down at the bundle in his arms.

"Nice!" Chihiro said. "I'll lend you a hand. I've got a good feeling about this!"

They managed to find their way to an empty table in the library. After plopping down the stack onto it, he took his seat and started to explain, "I need to find the shogi club and the chess club rosters from two years ago until now."

He left off the rant about the secretary digitizing every single document type except the club rosters. Seriously, why did she not finish the job and digitize everything? What's the point of a database if it didn't have all the data you needed? Keima swore to himself-

As the Capturing God murmured to himself, all Chihiro did was chuckle a bit and fish out some earbuds from her bag. She decided she was feeling a little mainstream that day, so she tapped open Birth and started shuffling through the pile in front of her, softly humming along to the melody.

Because of how quiet the library was, Keima could easily hear Chihiro and the faint beats of the music she was listening to. He shivered, recognizing the song she was enjoying in an instant.

'If anything was to be Reality's final boss music, it would have to be Kanon's debut album.'


Mio nervously toyed with the end of one of her pigtails, biting her lip as she sat behind the cash register, taking quick glances at the clock that hung above the entrance to the Aoyama bakery whenever she could. Yui had told her she'd be dropping by again as her more masculine alter ego Makoto Yoshii after school at four. At that time, it was seven 'til the appointed time. If Mio was waiting for anyone else, she wouldn't have been particularly nervous; however, Yui usually arrived ten minutes ahead of schedule due to her upbringing, most likely. To that effect, she was technically late. On top of that, Yui had mentioned that she'd only be able to become Makoto once a week, so this extra session was extra risky. That led the blonde down a spiral of worry.

Did someone in school find out about her disguise?

Did her mother find out?

Was Yui in deep trouble?

What could Mio do to help her?

The door to the bakery swung open, jostling the bell that sat above it. At the sound of the ring, Mio stiffened and brought her attention back to her work and greeted the pair. It was a familiar duo: her bespectacled friend Keima and that girl who would always buy meat buns. Perhaps dealing with those two would keep her mind off of Yui's absence.

"Welcome to the Aoyama bakery," Mio said, bending at the hip an acceptable amount. "It's good to see you again, Katsuragi-kun."

She received a nod. Heiress Mio would have scoffed at such a lackluster reply. Part-time store clerk Mio took it in stride.

"I'll cut to the chase, Aoyama. This," Keima gestured to the girl next to him, who was sheepishly rubbing the back of her neck, "is Chihiro Kosaka. She's looking for a part time job."

A girl Mio's age who had no connections to the Maijima city elite? Mio didn't really click with her 2-A peers, but maybe this girl could be her first ever commoner friend. Mio tried her best to cool her features; she didn't want to scare the girl off. "Okay, let's get the introductions out of the way. I'm Mio Aoyama, and it's a pleasure to meet you, Kosaka-san. Please wait here while I go get my mother. She'll give you all the documents you need to sign. Oh, and I'll fetch Keima-kun's payslip while I'm at it."

The former heiress entered the door behind the counter, leaving the two Mai-High students to their devices. Chihiro looked to her side. Her classmate had instantly pulled out a PFP. She rolled her eyes, chuckling to herself as she fished out her phone in reply. The more things change, the more things stay the same, the guitarist supposed.

She wasn't expecting any messages - her friends had temporarily deactivated their social media accounts so nothing could get in the way of a good night's sleep - but that didn't stop Chihiro from using her phone to window shop for some good studio prices.

The door to the bakery swung open again. Neither of the two 2-B students noticed as a new person lined up behind them.

The three of them waited patiently for Mio to emerge from the back room with her mother in tow. Upon seeing the customers in the store, the elder Aoyama's eyes lit up, her smile growing disconcertingly large. Similarly, Mio's eyes widened.

"Hi, Keima-kun. And hello there, Makoto-kun," Rin Aoyama said, her gaze causing Keima and Chihiro to look behind them. "It's a pleasure to see you again. I'm sure Mio is happy to see you too."

Chihiro brought a hand up to her chin to keep her jaw from dropping to the floor. This "Makoto" dude was a hunk! Nice shoulders, a well-defined jawline, a symmetrical face, a clean complexion - his looks were a ten out of ten for sure. He was a bit on the lean side, sure, but she could definitely work with this.

Her heart raced. The guy that previously made her feel this way turned out to be a weird siscon, and she had been channeling more and more of her energy into chasing after her dreams instead of chasing after boys. It had been a while since she had last had a crush, so she supposed it was about time for her teenage heart to rear its head into her life once again.

She looked at Keima, surprised he stopped gaming to look at the other boy in the room. His eyes were narrowed, his gaze darting from head to toe as if to appraise him. Chihiro heard a low hum from her sort-of acquaintance, and she could see the gears turning in his head.

"Ah, it's a pleasure to see you too, Aoyama-san," Makoto said, bowing at a prim and proper angle. Chihiro flushed at the sound of his voice - a bit high pitched for her taste, but was smooth and velvety. "Is your daughter free at the moment? I wanted to run through our plans for tomorrow's presentation one last time. Practice makes perfect after all."

Keima tore his gaze off of that person and looked at the girl beside him. Smitten. Short of breath, deep blush, dilated eyes - Chihiro Kosaka was definitely smitten. The nerd then sneaked a glance at the blonde his age. He raised a brow. She looked away. Keima shrugged.

Considering who that person was, Keima knew Chihiro's infatuation would just cause headaches in the future, so he decided to steer the conversation back to employment. "Ahem, Aoyama-san, this is Chihro Kosaka, a classmate of mine. She's interested in working here."

"A-ah," Chihiro snapped out of her funk, turning around and giving the matriarch a bow, "thank you for considering me."

"Ah, forgive me for getting distracted, you two." The mother didn't look apologetic at all, but he supposed he was thankful that she didn't look annoyed with them. "Mio dear, feel free to go with Makoto-kun for the afternoon. As for you, Kosaka-san, follow me to the office so I can give you a quick interview."

Chihiro took one glance at Keima, inhaled sharply, and nodded, trailing Rin Aoyama as she entered the door behind the counter.

The three remaining teenagers stood in silence for a few seconds as Keima's eyes bounced between Mio and "Makoto". He ran the route calculations in his head, and he surmised that he didn't need to step in yet. Better to pretend not to be able to see through the disguise.

"Goodbye, Aoyama," Keima said, giving a nod to the disguised Goidou before exiting the establishment.

He had a dinner to get ready for.


Keima waited in front of Uemoto-ya, taking a glance at his watch. Six fifteen in the evening - a handful of minutes before the agreed meeting time. Being late would only serve to annoy the martial artist even further, and at that point, she'd become a random variable, and Keima sure didn't like those when Reality was the one rolling the dice. It should use an RNG system so pros like him could use inputs to get rare drops whenever he wanted. Thinking about sidestepping the Kanon situation with a few well-timed button presses like a Dragon Quest speedrun brought a smile to his face, and he would have pushed up the rim of his glasses if he had been wearing them.

Instead, he decided to treat Kusunoki to a sight she seldom saw - Keima in contacts. If he recalled correctly, it had been a while since he had last used them, so he was sure this little olive branch would make up for the sudden change in schedule. The Capturing God just had to make sure not to let Kanon catch whiff of this.

He had made sure Kanon would be occupied since as her assistant, he had access to her work schedule, but the comfort that information brought him was middling.

Bringing his gaze up from his watch, Keima saw Kusunoki. It seemed that her sister had gotten her licks in - the martial artist was dolled up. Mascara, eyebrow extensions, pink lip gloss - the Kasuga elder spared no expense, it seemed, as if the two were going to a Michelin star establishment and not a run-of-the-mill ramen joint. Her clothing seemed to suit the casual venue way more: a red cardigan partially covered a loose white blouse that was tucked into a pair of denim short shorts.

A tilt of the head from Kusunoki told Keima what he needed to do. He said, "You look good, Kasuga."

"How do I put this... you look rather dashing yourself, Katsuragi," Kusunoki said, playing with the hem of her shorts. "Are those contacts? You should use them more often."

Keima waved off her praise, choosing to open the door for her. She took his cue, and the two entered the establishment.

Foot traffic was as usual - a little empty, but bustling enough to keep the Uemotos in business. He could make out Sumire's mother working hard in the kitchen, thought there was still no sign of her father. Looking back at a previous save, Keima remembered that the patriarch was a sensitive topic for the ramen girl. Speaking of which, she was elbow deep in work, kneading dough with so much force Keima almost felt bad for it. Two other people were flitting around, taking orders and ducking in and out of the kitchen to serve said orders.

Keima managed to catch the eye of one of them as the server finished placing two steaming bowls onto the table of a pair of Mai-High girls. Wordlessly, she - Asami Yoshi-something - walked to a vacant booth, and Keima took that as his cue to take his seat.

"H-hello again, Katsuragi-kun, Kasuga-senpai. It's surprising to see you two here today. Uemoto-san t-told me your sessions usually fall on... um... Sundays," Asami said, looking blue in the face. It seemed like the social interactions were taking its toll on the incredibly awkward girl, but at least she wasn't losing her breath like last time.

"Katsuragi isn't available on Sunday, so I asked Uemoto-san to move the lesson to today," Kusunoki explained, looking at the menu in front of her merely out of habit. After all, they had to uphold their end of the bargain - there was only one thing they'd order.

"Let's just get this over with," Keima said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Go get the Sumire Specials already."

With a nod, Asami took the menus and left. Keima leaned back into his chair, slouching like a gremlin. He wanted to pull out his PFP and save some heroines from actual gremlins, but this whole thing was to appease Kusunoki and keep her volatility low, so he opted not to.

Opposite to him, Kusunoki sat ramrod straight like a taut bowstring. "...What sort of dish do you think Uemoto-san is brewing?"

"Hopefully one that doesn't kill us."

Kusunoki's stance relaxed a tad, her shoulders dropping. She gave a hearty chuckle and said, "That makes two of us."

A lull in the conversation settled in. It was to be expected; neither of the two teens were particularly social. Keima read the atmosphere and felt it was a mostly comfortable silence, though from Kusunoki's slightly furrowed brows, he could tell there was something she'd like to say.

Before she could, however, someone approached their table. It was Asami, only she was dressed up in the Mai-High uniform instead of the one she had on earlier, the one that matched Sumire's. She had pep in her step and a mega-watt smile like she had chugged a gallon of Red Bull - a thousand times different from the sullen aura she had on earlier. Just what had happened to her in the kitchen?

Keima looked at Kusunoki, and he saw her brow drop lower in consternation.

"Katsuragi-kun, I'm pleasantly surprised to see you here. How's the shogi team thingy doing?" She flashed her fingers in the shape of a V over her left eye.

Then, her eyes widened as she got a better look at his companion. Her eyes widened, and she bowed, her smile still beaming. "Ah, that must mean you're Kusunoki Kasuga-senpai! It's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Ikumi Yoshino. I've heard a lot about you from my Student Council colleagues."

Keima made the mental connection. When Ikumi had mentioned a sister the other day, the gamer should have known she was referring to Asami. They're the splitting image of each other; they had to be identical twins.

Kusunoki came to the same conclusion, though her lips were pursed. "What exactly have you heard?"

"Oh, nothing much," Ikumi waved her hands, "just a few tales about how you manage your club, and your 'relationship' with Katsuragi-kun here. He's the talk of the town in the Student Council, you see, hehe."

"Hmm..." Kusunoki's eyes were closed. She seemed to be deep in thought. "Should I be concerned about the way my club is ran? I'm afraid I focus mostly on training with the other members, so I've left most of the logistics to Katsuragi."

"Ah, nah, we're just very impressed." Ikumi had a finger to her temple. "We had recently surveyed the non-senior members of all the athletics clubs, and if I'm remembering the report on the Women's Martial Arts club correctly, you've received glowing praise. A start contrast from, well, zero response from the previous month."

"Ikumi, excuse me." Behind the sociable student council member stood her sister who was holding a tray with two bowls on it. The scent that wafted from the ramen didn't smell like perfume or vinegar or anything weird, so that was a plus in Keima's book. He could only hope that the taste held up too.

He brought his gaze up from the bowls to the girls, and he had to say that the Yoshino twins's resemblance was uncanny. Face, body shape - it was all the same. In other words, the tools matched; the girls differed in how they used said tools.

Ikumi chuckled sheepishly, "Ah, I'll get out of your hair, sis. See ya!"

With that, she returned to her own table and continued to chat and eat with her friend.

"Here, t-two Sumire Specials," the part-time server said, placing the two trays in front of the pair. "...Good luck."

Asami left. Keima tried his best to hide the annoyed look he shot at her retreating backside. What kind of server would say that? Only in a Real restaurant, that was for sure.

He could now inspect the bowl properly. It continued to smell like a normal bowl, and aside from a red tint that the gamer assumed to be sriracha or some other spicy condiment, it looked like a normal bowl of ramen as well. Keima looked up at the same time as Kusunoki, and their eyes met. They seemed to be asking each other the same thing: did Sumire finally do it? Did she manage to craft an actual good tasting bowl of ramen? Were their taste buds going to be spared from eternal damnation?

Keima broke the staring contest, picked up a pair of chopsticks, and dug in. The bowl had the standard garlic taste, and the spice added a nice little kick to the bowl. He couldn't really tell what was so special about this Sumire Special, but he didn't care. He was hungry from having to lug around those documents, so he inhaled the bowl in under ten minutes. It seemed Kusunoki had been even hungrier than him as she had polished off her bowl a solid minute before him. She took the extra time to dab away the ramen from her satin red lips using tissue-

Wait... satin red? Weren't her lips a light shade of pink too?

Kusunoki's eyes widened at the same time. "You didn't perhaps put on lipstick while I wasn't looking, right?"

"I didn't, and I'm sure you didn't either," Keima said, pulling out his phone and turning on the front facing camera. There it is - his lips were a bright shade of red. He swiped some tissue from the dispenser and furiously rubbed it against his lips, close to the point of breaking his skin with the friction. A minute later, Keima checked again - no change. "...What the-"

"Hello, my Tonkotsus!" The pair turned around and came face to face with Sumire Uemoto, who had a Cheshire grin on her face. Keima noticed her lips were the same shade of red as his. "How do you like my fashion bowl? Tastes like a normal bowl of ramen, but it also functions as lipstick for female ramen enthusiasts who lead busy lives. Isn't it perfect for the bustling Maijime city denizens?"

"Oi, Uemoto." Keima gave her a dead stare. He pointed at his lips, his hand trembling in frustration. "Get this off of me."

"Ah, you see," Sumire rubbed the back of her neck, "...it's water-proof. The pigments will fade in three hours or so."

Kusunoki had a hand over her mouth, not to conceal her lipstick, but to hide her mirthful grin. "How do I put this... y-you look rather beautiful, Katsuragi."

Keima buried his face in his hands. As the two paid at the cash register and made their way to the kitchen for another round of cooking lessons, Keima tried to count his blessings in the face of Reality's meddling.

1. The lipstick would only give him weird looks. As someone who was considered the scum of society, no amount of shame would faze him once he had his PFP in his hands.

2. That ramen bowl tasted pretty good.

3. At least this was better than meeting Kanon.

Keima's dyed frown softened a bit at that last point.


Pending Deadlines

Track Meet: 1 day remaining

Start of Tenri Week: 3 days remaining

Shogi Team Evaluation: 7 days remaining

Kanon's Monthsary: 9 days remaining


Hi, it's me. I'm late again. Um... chalk it up to the quarantine & job hunting blues? (Hope all of you are staying safe and sane - I'm doing alright, but it sure would be nice to skip to 2021 lol). Oh, and blame my recent Danganronpa obsession. Also, I was struggling to finish the outline for this chapter since I was mostly interested in writing the Shiori dates and the Ayumi dates - I had nothing planned for Friday. I'm finally satisfied with this semi-filler chapter. It's wayyyyyy overdue. Sorry for that.

Anyway, let's get the pity party out of here and start talking about the chapter.

1. Tenri Ayukawa/Diana. I'm glad I managed to schedule a good amount of future development time with the pair in the future. I'm sure you're eager to find out just what exactly Diana is since there are no Runaway Spirits, Goddesses, or Devils in this AU. I can't promise it'll be revealed in the coming in-story days, but every day is a step closer to finding out.

2. Chihiro Kosaka. Right now, she's sort of in between pre-capture Chihiro and post-capture Chihiro in terms of, well, everything. Keima's given her the confidence to believe that she can become something special, but she still has the desire to chase after boys who make her feel special. It just so happens that this "boy" she has a crush on just so happens to be...

3. Yui Goidou. Or should I say Makoto Yoshii? I thought it would be fun to see how she'd act once her handsome persona was beset with a tenacious suitor. We'll see how that development unfolds in the coming chapters.

4. Next chapter. Had to cram the entirety of Friday into this chapter in order to make way for Saturday. I'm very excited to write about Shiori's new hope. As for Ayumi striking back, that'll probably have to wait for next next chapter.

5. Pending Deadlines section. Does seeing this at the end of the chapter annoy you? I sure do hope it doesn't because it really helps me keep track of what threads I have and when to execute them. It seriously saves me a ton of time. If it does annoy you, please let me know. I'll keep the deadlines in my notes if that's the case.

6. The rating. You've seen what Kanon is capable of. I'd like your thoughts about the story rating. Is it still alright to keep it at a T rating, or should I bump it up to M? This story will never go into explicit detail, but ever since ch28-29, I've been mulling it over.

I keep receiving a ton of wonderful reviews. It always warms my heart to see one pop up in my phone notifs. Thank you all so much for reading my dorky prose. It's amateur hour, but I'll do my best to keep the twists coming.

Stay safe. I'll see you in the next chapter.