#maskslain

     “Hmm...slow day today...”

     In someways he’s surprised but in other ways he’s not. Akira knows that the cafe he works at isn’t the most popular of places around the city, but it can’t be helped. There are other cafes around and he could’ve worked there if he wanted to but nope, he’s here and he’s pretty happy about it.

     After all...he owes the owner of this place a lot. It’s the least he can do after all.

     A sigh is let out as Akira looks up, eyes wandering around the cafe. The noise from the TV keeps the place from feeling too quiet, but even so, there was only another person or two in the cafe right now. It really was a slow day, even slower than usual.

     Still...would be nice if more people showed up around here. He loves this place and wish more people knew about it. He could always say something about it but he doesn’t think it’s his place to. Even if the owner could use new customers...and the extra money those customers brought.

     He hears the sound of the bell above the door ring out as the door opens, revealing a young girl walking through the opened door into the cafe. It’s a new face and...one that he thinks he’s seen before. Not sure where, but he gets that feeling looking at her.

Friendship doesn’t come easily to the assassin. It isn’t something he knows. Anyone who had reached out a hand to him had eventually learnt his... job. And, once he’d been accepted into Hope’s Peak Academy, he’d decided to not even try hiding his ‘talent’ in the first place.

That’s why it had caught him off-guard when the Ultimate Idol insisted on befriending him. He’s still not certain that it’s a good idea, considering his line of work. No, he’s most positive that it’s quite the awful one. Yet, he finds that part of him... wants to reach out his hand to her too.

Standing outside of class now, waiting for the idol to walk out, he’s not entirely sure what he’s doing. Upon sensing her approaching the door, he’s still not sure, but...

“...Harukawa-san?”

Clutching onto his bag a little tighter, a soft voice is raised just enough to be heard over the bustling hallway.

Reina had been at the orphanage for about eight years now. She’d followed her brother off the boat during a family trip abroad, gotten sunstroke, collapsed, and finally returned to her home country... only to be told that her family had all died when the boat sank on the way back.

It had been devastating, but... life went on. Since she was six years old, she’d had a new family. And probably her favorite big sister was...

“Maki!” With a delighted squeal, Reina flung herself at the - woah, shorter? since when? - girl. The others must have greeted her outside, but because of her albinism, Reina had to stay cooped up inside on sunny days, or risk getting sick. It was easier to deal with now that she was older.

“It’s not that warm yet.”

Saihara didn't think there was a time that the academy had felt more silent. It wasn't as though his room was normally noisy or anything, but nothing was really the same anymore. In a single night, they'd lost the comrade they trusted the most, as well as the so-called outsider they had trusted the least. Outsider... There was no way Saihara could continue to think of Ouma that way as someone who gave up his life to stop the killing game, who lied about being the mastermind in order to corner them. And Momota, who resisted the killing game to his very last breath, the one who had given Saihara a leg to stand on when he needed it the most... Then there was the matter of Kiibo, who was no longer himself since the end of the trial. If the truth of the outside world hadn't left him feeling empty before, then this was a whole new level of human exhaustion -- in every sense of the word.

But, where there was emptiness, there was the capacity to move forward. Even in the face of adversity -- even when there was nothing left. Because if there was one thing their fallen friends had deserved, it was an answer. Even when they thought the killing would stop, when there was nothing left to kill for... A certain turn of events had occurred. This game, Saihara determined, was completely rigged, and Saihara swore he would expose the mastermind and catch them in their own trap; pick up the pieces where Ouma had left them, so to speak. And so, alone in his room, he thought. And thought, and thought.

And then, there was a knock on the door. So faint, Saihara thought he had imagined it. Never again would it be Momota on the other side, asking to meet by the gazebo...

He blinks, and then—his previously muted expression quicklyforms into one of playful contentment. When Maki made requests like this…requeststhat were so mundane, so mildly intimate—it was difficult to express how itmade Kaito feel. Warm, joyful, glad that she felt so comforted around him. Itwas a sign of trust, a sign of security. Security in their relationship—protectedin his presence.

The astronaut would make sure she stayed that way. Her armswrapped around him, the pout being exuded from her tone of voice—he leaned down,bending his knees…and made sure she could get up onto his back. Once she didso, he held onto her legs as tightly as he could.

How many books was he taking out of the library this time? Twenty? ( He was glad that he enjoyed reading so much... ) Shuichi inwardly sighed to himself as he carefully navigated his path with the rather large stack in his hands. Some of them managed to fit in his backpack, luckily, but the rest had to be carried. How troublesome... Luckily, the halls seemed to be mostly empty as he walked, so he didn’t have to worry about colliding into someone--