#truthprevail

she wants to ask what could have possibly possessed sae to do such a thing, but decides not to. her cousin can take care of herself. honestly, she's more worried for any creeps who try to hit on or mess with her in the dead of night. still, though, madoka certainly wouldn't be caught dead doing such a thing, even if she were restless and figured exercise would be the way to tire herself out.

[ txt ] i was up, though. no worries! ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ where are you right now? you can come over if you want. i'd never say no to snacks!

she'd offer to meet sae at her apartment instead, but it's late. she wouldn't want to disturb makoto's sleep. she remembers how difficult her own third year of high school had been, even without going to a fancy school like the younger niijima sister.

@truthprevail sent... ❝ rest is important too, you know. ❞

"i could say the same thing to you..."

madoka frowns, concern alight in gray eyes as she looks over her elder cousin. somehow, compared to what sae must be going through at work ever since the phantom thieves made their shocking debut, university doesn't seem so bad anymore. honestly, when she decided she wanted to follow in sae's footsteps and get into the best university possible, she's glad she didn't decide to become a lawyer as well.

"i'll be okay once i get through my finals. i promise. more importantly, is there anything i can do to help you and makoto?" she asks, taking a sip of her coffee and trying her best not to wrinkle her nose as the cafe's owner lights up a cigarette. it's his store and he can do what he likes, even if she doesn't like it. "i mean... i know you two can take care of yourselves, but... i'm here if you need anything. anything at all, okay? that's what family's for, right?"

he hadn't gotten caught like this before... crossing his arms he was still in his cameo uniform, and that was a bad look for him. some fourteen year old with a very convincing looking gun on him, now sat on the interrogation table between him and the adult before him. along with the fake rubber knife he had, and some of the pink bb's from the gun splayed out on it.

❝ i'm sorry, miss, but i really can't tell you anything. ❞

a slide over of a business card... it's the ministry of defense symbol, and a man's name on it. tadaomi karasuma... some sort of agent mayhap ?? nagisa looked... nervous, he wasn't really supposed to get caught on the way home, that's the whole point of stealth training. plus he still had his gear on him after a long night out trying to deal with itona's whole situation ?? what a mess.

❝ i made a mistake getting home which is why you saw me at all, but, if you want some sort of answer you can talk to him. anything i have is above your clearance of classification, @truthprevail. ❞

some... fourteen year old kid has higher information clearance than her ?? yeah, that... sounded insane.

Lack of Sleep Starters! / accepting

Fuuka had been up since the sun has been up working on a new program for the Kirijo group. And while she thought she was successful hours ago, the website crashed and caused Fuuka to almost lose her absolute mind. So, another few more hours, 10 minutes to rest her eyes, and she finally was able to submit the program to Mitsuru to make sure her approval was perfect.

...it won't be perfect when she sees that Fuuka sent it at almost 4am. She ran her fingers through her sort of messy braid as she heard someone calling out to her.

the cat doesn’t stir.

she doesn’t. she has no reason to. the couch is a tiny valley of salvation under her, her hands tucked beneath her chin, knees curled up, touching just so against her chest. the cushion presses, warm fabric against her nose, her cheeks. she’s quiet, soundless, still, seems like she hardly moves save for the quiet rise and fall of her chest. her lashes bat against her skin, faint and constant, a flush of pink across her face created only by insistent proximity to cushion.

she doesn’t move. not at all. the jacket falls around her shoulders and makes shadows across lean, pale muscle. but even in silence she finds a hand errant from its place, unconsciously seeking the comfort of a security item. the jacket works well enough, and she fidgets, burrows deeper into her makeshift bed.

That’s right, she hasn’t told Sis about them yet-

“It’s nothing horrible, Sis. It’s…a common thought with teenage girls.” So she’s heard. “It shouldn’t surprise you that I’m starting to think about these kinds of things given…you know, my age.”

Slowly, she slides an envelope across the table. Inside, Makoto would find an all expenses covered hot spring resort. Whilst it was meant for two, should her sister decide to bring another, Sae already arranged to have the excess charged to her card.

" Happy birthday." she smiles softly. Whilst she would love to go with her sister, she wouldn't push for it. "You should invite someone to go with you."

It's unfortunate bad memories were easier to recall when one found themselves inside a familiar, well-known and well-visited room. Vivid imagery of closed-off body language, raised voices spitting insults and frustrations reaching their breaking point, all due to a singular source plaguing the estranged sisters. It's only been in recent years more of those pleasant, fond instances casted themselves away, replaced by moments the older Nijima blatantly belittled Makoto's progress. Even her mere presence perturbed the prosecutor to a point the work day's stresses tumultuously avalanched upon the younger Nijima's shoulders.

She remembered escaping to her room once the dust settled, burying her nose inside yet another school book or any sort of reading distraction. The various Buchimaru plushies became comfort friends when Makoto's inner anguish and anxiety flared up. Why seek any sort of consolation from a sister too strained by her career, and too inconvenienced by raising a younger sibling? Makoto couldn't do that to Sis. She loved Sae, despite her obvious resentment.

Those reasons contributed towards Makoto's complaisant behavior. An out of pocket rebuttal only resulted in verbal, or physical, consequences depending on the accusation. Keep her head low, don't rouse any unnecessary attention, stick with the status quo, all these 'lessons of life' never brought her any conflict in school or at home thereafter. It made Sae's life easier. But not Makoto's. She missed those rousing dinner table conversations with Sis and her father, ones where healthy arguments always encouraged Makoto to think from another perspective. When one of those rare off days occurred, Dad encouraged hitting up downtown Shibuya or Jinbocho for an afternoon Nijima family jaunt. He always bought her a little trinket as a memento of their time together.

It'd never happen again. Growing up meant moving on, steer forward instead of looking back, and leave the childish whimsy behind.

Holidays, as well as other celebrations rarely received any recognition in the years following their father's death. Christmas came and went without much fanfare, and the same happened around their birthdays as well. The only reason Makoto remembered was due to the school's monthly birthday listings posted on the hallway calendar. But what did it matter if no one, not even her own sister, showed their appreciation? No friends gifting cute presents, no messy homemade birthday cake with an illegible message spelled out in icing font, not even a single card albeit Sis's last minute thought on her way home from work. It didn't matter to Makoto.

Until it did.

When warmth blossomed like a budding spring flower at the sight of Ryuji's sunbeam smile, holding out a makeshift motorcycle made from a beginner's gunpla kit, it mattered. When an impromptu shopping trip turned into a free lunch, and an extra strawberry cream crepe courtesy of Ann's modeling gig, it mattered even more. When even Joker decided on renting out Leblanc's space after hours for a small get-together, complete with free drinks and the promised homemade cake sprinkled with lit candles, she nearly cried on sight. And now, in a hushed moment between the two sisters, where Sis approached the younger Nijima in a very meek manner, Makoto listened.

The envelope found itself in Makoto's hands after a momentary beat, letting her mind ponder about the contents hidden inside. A gift certificate, the most logical deduction since it's one of those last minute ideas anyone could grab. It's that but something much more, enough of a genuine surprise to leave Makoto speechless. Eyes widened rereading the welcome message, accompanied with an official, written certification approving two guests for a weekend luxury experience. This wasn't cheap. This costed more than a pretty yen. An entire month's paycheck? Or two months!? Three months!? She shouldn't accept it if it meant Sis's finances took a noticeable decline, yet it's the first thoughtful gift she'd been offered from her sister since who knew when.

Sacrificing her own funds to provide Makoto a more than satisfactory birthday present, as if she purposefully thought this far to cover for those times where ignorance took priority. Sae was actively trying to mend the broken relationship that almost had been severed, if not for her doing and the rest of the thieves. If she began opening her heart for forgiveness now, Makoto didn't want to refuse.

"...I'm...shocked...Sis, this is..." Her hands tightened around the paper, crinkling the invitation between shaky fingers. "...I'm...I really don't...know what I should say..." She should extend her gratitude for Sae's present, because that was the most logical response when gift-giving. But a simple 'thank you' hardly covered the true extent of Makoto's appreciation. Why convey her feelings from an analytical perspective when this exchange started on emotional grounds? She respected her sister, she admired her, she saw Sis as her role model from a very young age. And above all, she truly loved her older sister.

Her decision came easier than any test question or exam problem. The brunette matched Sae's smile, soft and gentle, while she extended her hand holding the invitation and placed it in the other's open palm. "...you're right, and I think I know who'd I like to spend that time with..."