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"If you are to remain our daughter," he said, stern and forceful, "you must not bring shame to our family by giving birth to that baby."

Hitoka Hinata gripped the hem of her skirt tightly, eyes cast downward at her knees folded into seiza before her parents.  She had known that there would be pushback, being an unmarried young college student and daughter to an influential family in education, but she hadn't actually expected such an extreme ultimatum: abortion, or being disowned.

"May I renegotiate the terms?" she asked, as firmly as she could manage.

"I hardly think you're in a position to be doing so," her father said.  "You say you aren't even together with the father anymore!  No daughter of mine will be seen as a hussy, and the pregnancy should be terminated appropriately."

Hitoka bit her lower lip, weighing her options.  She absolutely did not want to lose the baby—she wasn't very far along, that was true, and the child still wasn't much more than a clump of cells, but she still loved them fiercely, as if they were already a full-term baby lying in her arms.  But on the other hand... if she were cut off from her family, she wasn't confident that she'd be able to provide for the child.

It was true that she wasn't with the father anymore; their relationship had already been on rocky ground when she got pregnant.  If she were all on her own, could she give the baby the life they deserved after forcing them into the cruel world?  Was it kinder to let them fade away painlessly without having to experience that hardship, and hope for a better life for a later child—one conceived under circumstances more acceptable to her parents?

Maybe it was just selfish of her to want this child to live...

She took a deep breath and ran her fingers through her hair.  She had two choices.  The first was to maintain a relationship with her family, terminating the baby in the process.  The second was to cut ties completely, giving her child a chance at a life, but dooming them to be at a disadvantage from the start.

Neither option guaranteed that her child would thrive in the world, but one of them at least offered the a possibility.

She raked a hand through her hair again, causing her mother to tut softly over her disheveled appearance, but that was beyond her focus at that point.  Logically, she knew that her heart had already made the decision; she was only fooling herself into believing that it was a difficult choice.  But was it the right one?

She'd have to work hard, harder than she ever had in her privileged life.  She'd probably have to leave school in favor of entering the workforce full-time.  She'd be stretched thin between working and caring for a child.

But what was the point of discouraging herself from a decision she had already made?

Slowly, she dropped her hand back to her knees.

“Ippon!”

Lying flat on his back and staring up at the lights lining the ceiling, Hinata barely registered the calling of the match over the ringing in his ears.

The match had barely lasted a minute.  That was pretty disappointing but, well, Hinata hadn’t really expected to get far in the annual judo tournament anyway—especially seeing as he was paired against Juzo Sakakura in the first round of the qualifiers.

He sighed in defeat, sitting up slowly as he rubbed his pounding head.  That was a bust, but at least he had tried—

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

Hinata froze and looked up to see Sakakura looming over him, glaring with unmitigated disgust.  "Uh, what?  Nothing’s wrong with me, I just—"

“That was pathetic.  Did you even try?”

Anger boiled in Hinata’s ears.  "Of course I tried!  I just wasn’t as skilled, so—"

“You think you can be a cop with an attitude like that?”  Sakakura scoffed.  "You call that trying?  You’re never trying, and this is proof of it.  If you’re not devoted to this career, why don’t you just leave?“

Hinata’s hands clenched into fists.  The words stung particularly hard—because he knew that, when it came down to it, there was a morsel of truth behind them.  "You have no right to tell me that,” he growled.

“I can and I am.”  Sakakura crossed his arms over his gi.  "I’ll even go back to the dorms and pack your bags for you.  You just worry yourself with getting back to mommy.“

For a moment, Hinata couldn’t see through the rage.  He lurched upward, and a satisfying smacking sound echoed through the tournament hall as a dull pain in his knuckles bolted up his arm.

In the instant his fist met Sakakura’s jaw, even through the exhilarating haze of adrenaline, Hinata knew it was a terrible idea.  He knew he was about to get beaten to a pulp.  He knew he was going to be in major trouble, and he knew Kirigiri would be reprimanded by association.

Souda was underneath a tractor, on a routine call to adjust some fittings, when his phone buzzed in his pocket.  Thinking that it was a message from his boss, he reached for his phone and unlocked it without looking, then brought it to his face to see what it was.

“What the fuck— OW, holy SHIT!!”  He rubbed his head, hissing, after smashing it against the tractor’s underside when he jolted upwards in surprise.  Through the pain, however, he didn’t take his eyes off the image displayed on his screen.  "Hinata, what the hell?!“ he whined, as if his friend could hear him from a thousand kilometers away.

"Are you all right, Souda-kun?” came his client’s high-pitched voice.

“No, I’m not!  Just look at this, Bandai!”  Souda rolled out from under the tractor and jumped up to show the farmer his cell phone, pointing at the image accusingly.  "My friend is in the driver’s seat of a Benz!  A Mercedes-Benz!  How the hell did he manage that?!“

Bandai frowned disapprovingly at the mechanic.  "Souda-kun, can you stop playing on your cell phone and get back to work?  After all, resting swines sow no wheat!”

Ignoring the large man’s bizarre made-up idioms, Souda continued to stare at the photo, nearly salivating at the sight of the car.  "Oh man… I think that’s a CLS 63 AMG…  How the hell did Hinata even get his hands on a car like that?!“

Bandai sighed, then leaned over and clapped his hands in front of Souda’s face to shock him out of his funk.  "Souda-kun, I would like my tractor in working order again as soon as possible.  Can you do that for me?”

“Huh?  Oh, oh right.”  With just one last envious glance at the photo, Souda stuffed his phone away and climbed under the tractor again.  "No sweat, this should be pretty quick.“

"Here's your delivery, Kirigiri-san!" Naegi announced as he stepped into the koban.  "Two bowls of stamina udon, one for you and one for... wait, where's Hinata-kun?"

Kirigiri chuckled lightly as she stood from her desk, walking around it to greet him.  "Hinata-kun is gone for the night already.  He had other dinner plans."

"Ah..."  Probably a date with Kuzuryu-kun, Naegi thought to himself.  He glanced at Kirigiri, fiddling with the delivery box nervously.  Did she really not know?  He couldn't imagine that someone as astute as Kirigiri would remain oblivious to their relationship for too long, but... well, he promised not to tell, so he definitely shouldn't say anything either way.

"Naegi-kun?"  Kirigiri looked at him oddly, an eyebrow arched.  "Are you going to take out the soup?"

"Oh!  Oh, right..."  Shaken from his reverie, Naegi placed the box on top of the desk and opened it up to extract the bowls.  "But if Hinata-kun's gone, what's the second bowl for?  You're not eating them both yourself, are you?"

Kirigiri wordlessly nodded towards the wall behind Naegi, and he turned to look, only to jump in surprise.  "Oh!  Sorry, I didn't even notice you were there!" he hurriedly apologized.  There was a silver-haired woman silently leaning against the wall—Naegi sort of felt like he had seen her before, but at the same time he didn't completely recognize her.  "Um, are you a friend of Kirigiri-san's, then...?"

"Friend...?" the woman repeated, as if the word were completely foreign on her tongue.  She glanced over Naegi's shoulder at Kirigiri, hesitation plainly written on her face.

Kirigiri gave a nonchalant shrug.  "Naegi-kun, not everyone applies the word 'friend' as liberally as you do," she said as she took her bowl of soup.

"Ah... yeah, you're probably right," Naegi admitted, laughing awkwardly.  "Sorry, I guess that was a weird question."

The woman with silver hair shook her head slowly.  "No, it's the natural question to ask, I suppose.  I'm just not used to having it directed towards me."  She paused, then bowed slightly.  "My name is Peko Pekoyama, by the way.  I don't think we've officially met."

"Oh, right!  I'm Makoto Naegi."  He bowed in response.  "I deliver udon around here, and... other things."

"Yes, I have seen you around."  Pekoyama gave the tiniest of smiles.  "I work as an... assistant to Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu."

Naegi wasn't sure if he completely believed that—since it sure looked like she was carrying a sword—but otherwise it made sense.  "I see, so you're just here waiting for Kuzuryu-kun to come back with Hinata-kun..."

The two women froze.

"Naegi-kun," Kirigiri said, setting down her chopsticks.  "How did you know Hinata-kun is with Kuzuryu-kun?"

Oh... crap.  Kirigiri hadn't mentioned that, had she?  Naegi had just naturally assumed that Hinata would be with his boyfriend, but he couldn't say that... though it probably also seemed pretty suspicious that he had clammed up and hadn't given an answer.  "Um, well," he stammered, "it's just, uh..."

Kirigiri peered at him, tapping a gloved finger against her cheek thoughtfully.  "You know about them, don't you?"

"What?  No!"  Naegi shook his head vigorously.  "I mean, know what?  Why would I— wait, you know about them?"

"Of course I know," Kirigiri stated plainly, picking up her chopsticks again.  "It didn't take very long to figure out."

Naegi sighed in relief.  "Thank goodness.  I had promised not to tell you, and— wait."  He dropped his voice to a whisper.  "Does Pekoyama-san know?"

Kirigiri chuckled.  "If she didn't, it would be a bit late to start whispering at this point."

"I'm well aware of their relationship," Pekoyama confirmed.

"But I have to say, Naegi-kun," Kirigiri said, leveling him with a thoughtful gaze, "you're sharper than you give yourself credit for."

"Oh, no, not at all," Naegi said, laughing bashfully.  "It's not like I figured it out on my own or anything, it was just..."  He trailed off, blushing as he remembered the incident.  "It was just luck that I found out."

Kirigiri stared at him for a long while before finally smirking.  "I see," she said, and Naegi got the distinct impression that she had somehow figured out the details of what happened anyway.  "Well, even if it wasn't the case here, I stand by my assessment.  You're more insightful than you think."

Naegi shrugged as he handed Pekoyama her bowl of udon.  "I don't know, I kind of feel like I'm just normal?"

"Naegi-kun."  Kirigiri folded her hands together, staring at him intensely.  "You've said that your psychology degree doesn't do you much good, but knowing how the human mind works is a valuable skill.  You shouldn't sell yourself short."

Naegi chuckled nervously; that sounded like a bit of an exaggeration, especially since he had only chosen his major for lack of any better ideas.  "Um, I'm flattered you think that, I guess."  He picked up the empty delivery box.  "Anyway, I should head back to the store now.  I'll talk to you later, Kirigiri-san.  And Pekoyama-san, it was nice meeting you!"

Kuzuryu glared her down, as if she were the ultimate opponent.

Ruruka responded in kind.

"What the hell are you doing here, you dung beetle?!" she spat indignantly, two seconds away from shooing him out of the store.

"I'm here to give you business you don't fucking deserve, you bitch!" he retorted, pointing to a clamshell package of dark green sweets on display next to the counter.  "So just sell me some of that kusamochi and let me get the hell out of here!"

"Kusamochi?!"  Ruruka leaned over the counter just enough to confirm what he was pointing at.  "Why are you— don't tell me Hinata sent you to get some in his stead?!"

"He didn't fucking send me!  I just thought I'd be a considerate bro and pick some up so that he doesn't have to see your bitch-ass face!"

"Excuse me?!"  Ruruka gripped the counter so tightly it felt like she was about to gouge fingernail marks into it.  "Then no, I'm not selling them to you!  That's my only bargaining chip to get him here!"

"I knew it!  And you think I'm just going to let you have your way after you outright admit that?!"

"What, do you own rights to Hinata now, huh?!"

"Maybe I fucking do!"  Kuzuryu grabbed the package roughly from the display.  "So I'm just gonna buy this and you're gonna let me give you the money!  How much does it fucking cost?!"

"Are your eyes as rotten as your tongue?!  It says right there, eight hundred yen!"

"Fine!"  Kuzuryu grabbed a ten thousand yen note from his wallet and slapped it on the counter.  "Keep the change, I'm done with your shit!"

"Fine, now get the hell out!"  She picked up the money and waved her hands to shoo him out.  "Thanks for coming, have a terrible day!"

"Same to you, bitch!"

As he left, Kuzuryu slammed the door with such force that it nearly knocked the tiny bells at the top off their fasteners.

Ruruka huffed in irritation, then shrugged.

Komaru gave a contented sigh, lounging across an inner tube and letting the cool saltwater lap at her body.  It was so nice to finally be able to relax after the frantic rush of Comiket, and she definitely felt that the beach trip was well-deserved.

Better yet was that not only had her best friend joined in, but she had finally managed to convince Byakuya Togami to come out of hiding!  It had taken commandeering several of her friends' cell phones and blowing through about seven different blocked email addresses, but finally he had relented.

The only problem was that, after all that trouble, Toko still wouldn't address him directly.

"L-look how gorgeous he is," she swooned as she clung to the inner tube, her long, dark hair floating on the water around them like a spider web.  "He's like a r-real life Adonis."

Komaru craned her head to follow Toko's gaze back to the shore, where Togami was sitting underneath a beach umbrella with his nose stuck in a book.  Makoto, meanwhile, was idly pacing along the shoreline, stopping occasionally to regain his balance as the surf shifted the sand under his feet.

Would it kill them to be at least a little more invested in their day out?  Komaru groaned and hung her head backwards over the tube, letting her hair get thoroughly soaked.

"I would h-happily spend all day admiring his unparalleled b-beauty," Toko sighed.  "O-or my entire life, even."

"Toko-chan, maybe you should try something proactive instead of just ogling him?" Komaru suggested.  "I mean... he's right there.  You finally have your chance to talk to him."

Komaru expected Toko to sputter some sort of excuse about being unworthy of approaching him, but instead she fell silent, her brows furrowing in thought.

Was she actually considering it?  Komaru waited patiently but excitedly, not wanting to say something that would push her best friend back into a corner.

"Komaru," Toko finally said.  "W-what if I drowned myself?"

Komaru was silent a beat, unsure of what she was hearing.  "What."

"I could drown myself," Toko repeated, seeming to become more excited about the idea as she explained the plan, "and th-then he'd come rescue me, and back at shore he'd gently lay me atop the warm, white sand.  He'd tenderly cradle my jaw, clearing my airway to perform mouth-to-mouth, and then—"

"I'm gonna stop you right there," Komaru cut in, grabbing on to Toko's wrists to keep her from actually drowning—the writer was getting worked up enough by her own fantasizing that she was losing her grip on the tube.  "That's an idea, but I kinda get the feeling I'd end up being the one saving your life."

Toko huffed indignantly, but didn't argue.

Komaru pondered for a moment until an idea came to her.  "Hey, I know!  Toko-chan, look."  She pointed towards Togami.  "See how he's reading?"

Toko frowned doubtfully.  "Yeah..."

"Well that's, like, your thing!" she continued enthusiastically.  "It's common ground that you can build off of!  So why don't you try going back to shore—you don't have to talk to him if you don't want to—but sit down with a book and start reading too!  Maybe he'll try striking up conversation about what you both are reading!"  She kind of doubted that last part, but she wouldn't say that out loud.

Biting her lip nervously, Toko stared at Togami again.  "Y-you think that might work?"

Komaru tried to exude as much confidence as possible.  "Sure it might!"  Keyword: might!

Gradually, and with much second-guessing, Komaru managed to urge Toko back to shore, and she watched as her friend pulled a softcover novel from her beach bag.  Toko then turned and walked on shaking legs towards Togami... and then right past him, hurrying a full five meters away from the heir before sitting herself down on the sand to read.

Komaru sighed.  Well, that was better than nothing...

And then, not two minutes later, Togami put down his book and stood up, walking away in the opposite direction.

Toko looked up from her book and shot a dark glare in Komaru's direction.

Unsure of how else to respond, Komaru simply shrugged and looked away.

It wasn't her fault that Togami was jerk.  And clearly far too smitten with her brother already.

"Oh, right."

Hinata had almost nodded off, lulled by the rhythmical clattering of the train and the comfortable presence of his boyfriend, but he was pulled awake again when Kuzuryu suddenly spoke up.  "Hmm?"

Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he saw Kuzuryu digging through his duffle bag.  "I forgot to give you your present."

"Present?"  That was enough to fully free Hinata from his drowsiness.  "What are you talking about?  I thought this whole trip was my present!"

Kuzuryu arched an eyebrow as he pulled a small wrapped package from his bag.  "What kind of shitty present would that be?  The trip was as much for me as it was for you.  Here."  He held out the package.  "Happy birthday."

Speechless, Hinata took the gift.  "Um... thanks, then?"  He stared at the wrapping paper for a moment before asking, "Can I open it now?"

"Sure, go ahead."

Hinata carefully opened the wrapping on the gift to reveal dark woven fabric, soft and warm against his fingertips.  "Gloves?"

"Yeah, 'cause you keep walking around outside with bare hands like a dumbass."  Kuzuryu grinned.  "How lame would it be if you lost a finger without even joining the clan?"

Hinata chuckled lightly, then pulled on one of the gloves to see how it fit.  The glove was snug and warm, and he flexed his fingers experimentally.  There were firm pads on the fingertips, and he tapped them together thoughtfully before it dawned on him.  "Hey, are these capacitive gloves?"

Kuzuryu grunted.  "Yeah, so?"

Hinata tried to keep a straight face, fighting down the grin that threatened to creep forward.  "So if I'm wearing these, what's the reason that I can't touch your phone now?"

Kuzuryu's face went red, and he turned to stare resolutely out the window at the passing countryside.  "Well I guess there fuckin' isn't a reason anymore, is there?"

No longer bothering to hide his smile, Hinata chuckled fondly.  Honestly, having access to Kuzuryu's phone didn't really matter to him—he didn't particularly care to see what was on there, and he was probably better off not knowing.