It was already August 18, and at this time Shinichiro was accompanying Manjiro to the hospital.

Wakasa was the one that took him there for his check up, and since the taller man had the gym to run, he called Shinichiro to watch over him for a couple of hours.

Manjiro was hesitant. He didn't want to face him because he was so guilty. He didn't know what happened to him that day. It was like he became possessed or something, and he couldn't control that... that thing. Manjiro didn't know what to call it anyway.

They reached the second floor soon after, and Manjiro felt all of the chills.

Haruchiyo was on the bed with bandages wrapped around his cheeks. The air was so... well, tense. So tense that you could cut it with a knife. Hesitantly, Manjiro sat on the chair that was next to the bed. Haruchiyo was silent, looking down at his hands.

The air really was tense at the silence.

"I'm sorry, Haruchiyo..." Manjiro spoke first, looking down at the ground. "I... I did something awful to you."

There was a uncomfortable silence between the two. Haruchiyo had that same stoic expression but he wasn't looking at Manjiro.

"The scars... they... they might be permanent." Manjiro continued, his knuckles turning white from clenching his fists for too long as he started to tremble. He was ashamed for what he did, and it hurt knowing that Haruchiyo couldn't even look at him. "I'll be right back." Manjiro puts his hands in his pockets as he got off the chair. Shinichiro only stares at his younger brother as he awkwardly walks out the door, knowing that he was already hurt and ashamed for his actions.

Shinichiro turns to Haruchiyo, a soft yet stern expression shown on his face. "Haruchiyo, I'm not saying you should forgive Manjiro right now," He starts, hesitating a little on what to say next. It was hypocritical of him, considering that he hadn't been able to give a proper apology to Takeomi. A small part of his pride was hoping that he'd be on the receiving end and not the one apologizing, but for now he'll swallow it. "But if you want, you can still be his friend."

Haruchiyo was looking up at him now. A soft smile appears on his face, holding his hand out. "Of course. He's my friend for life."

A sigh of relief escapes Shinichiro as he shakes his hand. "Thank you, Haruchiyo."

"That poor boy... lost his dad a young age..."
"If anything, that woman got what she deserved. Always flaunting her perfect life..."
"Hush! The boy might hear!"
"Oh, let him! He deserves to know that his father was an unfaithful man!"

It didn't help that the young boy could hear such harsh words. And a funeral nonetheless. He stood up from his seat, trying to tune out all of their voices until all he could hear was white noise. Once he was out of the house, he sat down on the sidewalk.

He was pretty sure that his father wasn't unfaithful.

"Hey, are you okay?"

The boy looked up, his eyes red from crying earlier. His grey-colored eyes met white ones, which seemed pretty unique. "Uh, yeah. Just crying." The boy answered before rubbing his eyes. "I haven't seen you around before. Are you new?" He asks.

"No, I just happened to pass by. I'm Kioku. Nagori Kioku." The person introduces. "And you are?"

"Kisaki Tetta." The boy sniffles, taking a short inhale before managing to calm down. He noticed that Nagori's eyes didn't match his hair or skin tone, in which he had no right to judge at. Nagori's hair was a cream blond color and his skin tone being slightly paler than his own. "How come you're crying?" Nagori then asks, sitting down next to him. "Did someone die? You're wearing all black."

Kisaki looked down. "My father did."

"Oh. Sorry." Nagori pats his shoulder, trying to comfort him. "Uh, it's not my place to say, but I don't think you're father would like it if he saw you cry like that."

Kisaki knew that. "...I guess you're right. But that won't stop the adults from saying bad things about him and my mother."

Nagori stayed silent, then he let out a sigh. "You know, those who say all that are just envious and have nothing to contribute in their lives." He says confidently. "That's what my caretaker says, at least."

Kisaki looked up at him. "You mean that?"

"Yup. Everyone's like that." Nagori says with a nod. "So believe what you believe in. That way, your memories of your father are only the ones you know. Not what those adults say."

"Kioku! There you are!" A woman calls out as she runs towards the two, a smile of relief coming onto her face. "I'm surprised you didn't run off to the next town." She says jokingly before smiling softly at Kisaki. "Thanks for talking to him."

Kisaki blinks for a bit, then nods. "It's no problem, ma'am."

"Tetta, come on inside!" Kisaki's mother calls from the front door, which prompted him to stand up. "Will I see you again?" Kisaki asks Nagori. Nagori pondered for a moment, then he just shrugs. That made Kisaki raise an eyebrow, about to ask something again before he heard his mother calling a second time. So, even though he was a bit suspicious, he waves goodbye to Nagori and the woman before heading inside.

Once the door was shut, the woman lets out a sigh. "Really? You think he would be one of the catalysts, Memory?"

Nagori lets out a scoff, snapping his fingers before turning back into his original form: A human body but with a crescent-shaped head. "Well, he has the same aura as him. And it took a lot of convincing from Mitama to even get into contact with him." He turns to her. "And you can turn back into your androgynous form, Ryutai. I get uncomfortable seeing you in a precise norm."

The woman huffs, crossing her arms. "I prefer being precise at times like this. Unlike you, I still have a job to do."

"And that would be what, Ryutai?" Memory asks, raising an eyebrow.

Ryutai only smirks. "I guess your sadistic nature rubbed off on me, Memory. You're the one that said emotions are like glass... fragile, yet fixed if treated right."

Memory only grins. "Well, that's the second part of the plan down. We'll leave the rest to Yuuko."