April 13
Wednesday
Early Morning
Cloudy
Akira lightly held on to the new card. Le Mat in French, or The Fool. After a one-sided conversation with Igor and learning about the importance of bonds as they have an impact on his Metaverse powers, Akira inherently felt a new ability click into place before he was sent back to his body.
He flipped the card to the back where nothing of note could be seen, but when he flipped it back to the image of the fool, a skill was described at the top of the card. Wild Talk. It allowed him to negotiate with Shadows. He wondered if it increased his ability to negotiate with others in general, a theory he would eventually test.
Letting the card dissipate into blue lights, Akira went through his routine of plyometrics, a run, and a quick shower before heading downstairs to eat Sojiro's incredible curry for breakfast.
.
.
.
After watching Kamoshida brutalize the various student teams, Akira and Ryuji made their way towards the courtyard. There, Akira handed Ryuji a slip of paper.
"What's this?"
"A cipher."
"Uh…"
"Think of it as using code words. I made it simple since it's our first one. Make sure to memorize by tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?!"
"Tomorrow. Or if you ever ask a question about the definition of a pauper for English, I'm not going to answer."
Despite his confusion, Ryuji looked down at the paper and saw that Akira had used specific words to describe the Kamoshida situation.
"It's already making my head spin, so it'll definitely work if someone tries to snoop on us."
"That's the idea…As for asking the volleyball members about Kamoshida, why don't I ask the questions."
"Sure man. You're the boss."
.
.
.
The pair moved around Shujin while paying attention to many bandaged and battered students.
"Does making nationals require such 'intense' training?"
"O-Of course! What would you know about nationals anyway?"
"All I know is that getting tickets to Koshien was not nearly this brutal."
"K-Koshien?"
"Since guys know about the criminal record, you might as well research the starting pitcher for Yokohama Kouhoku from last year's Koshien. The point is, I know a thing about intense training…"
"…I-I…Maybe i-it's different in volleyball…I just don't want to get in trouble. Please, leave me out of this."
"…Thank you anyway. As far as we're aware, this conversation never happened."
- - -
Conversations followed a similar pattern even after the pair had split up to cover more ground. What bothered Akira the most in this whole affair were the parents. A child comes home with strange bruises, and no steps are taken to find out when volleyball became a full-contact sport. The abuse was so blatantly obvious, yet everyone seemed to consider it normal. A chill squirmed up Akira's back when he thought of the obscenely dressed Ann in Kamoshida's palace. He imagined an underage student as a sex object. Everything considered, Kamoshida might have already sexually assaulted other female students. Maybe Ann is his next target.
- - -
Akira leaned against the vending machine when the second blonde he knew approached him.
"Can I talk to you for a sec?"
"Please, go ahead."
"It'll be quick…Anyway, what's with you? Like, how you were late the other day was a lie and all…There's that weird rumor about you too."
"Those questions seem like an excuse to start a conversation…Why are you coming to talk to me?"
"…I just want to tell you that people are already talking about you and Sakamoto sniffing around the volleyball team. No one is going to help you go against Kamoshida."
"Yet, here you are providing a warning and trying to act like you don't care. Folding your arms and cocking your hips to side to really sell it."
Ann was visibly taken aback by Akira's sharp observation and a slight blush appeared on her face.
"Don't pretend like you know everything!"
"Why are you pretending that you don't?"
"Huh?"
"I've been here three days, and I can tell that Kamoshida is a sycophant…What he's doing is vile, and I can only hope that you and whomever you're close with stay far away from him."
"…I-I gotta go."
As Ann made a hasty retreat, Ryuji emerged from the corner.
"What was that?"
"Nothing much. No luck on your end, I presume."
"Yeah. No one wants to say anything about the guy."
"We might have a lead. Mishima. The guy from my class."
"Fo real! Let's head over to the front door and catch him before he leaves."
.
.
.
"Mishima."
"K-Kurusu, and Sakamoto."
"I've been meaning to ask, how intense are your volleyball practices? From the first day I transferred I noticed all the bruises you had."
"Well…Mr. Kamoshida can be quite demanding."
"It's just physical abuse ain't it?"
Partly due to impatience and frustration, Ryuji asked the question directly.
"He's most definitely not!"
Ryuji and Akira gave each other a look, while the latter continued with the impromptu interrogation.
"Listen…Mishima. There's no point in covering for him, ever—"
"What's going on over here? Mishima, it's time for practice."
Mishima's shrunk further into himself.
"I'm not feeling well today."
"Maybe you're better off quitting? You'll never improve that crappy form without practice."
"He said he ain't feelin' well?"
Ryuji's temper started to boil over as Kamoshida effortlessly diminished Mishima.
"Well, Mishima, are you coming to practice or not?"
"…I'll go," responded Mishima.
Satisfied with the answer, Kamoshida took a step toward Ryuji and got right into his face, but before he could start talking, Akira pulled back his friend and glared at the volleyball coach.
"What? You got something to say, transfer?"
"Not to someone like you."
"What did you say! The principal already warned you to stay in line."
"I distinctly remember that conversation much like how I remember that my record was not meant to be disclosed to the student population. Yet here we are, and people think I've committed the most heinous crimes known to man."
"Hmph. A low life has no rights, they should just be content with the scraps that society gives them."
"You're delusional, and frankly not worth my time. Scram."
From the perspective of Ryuji, Mishima, and Kamoshida, Akira was radiating a heavy and dangerous aura. Facing the brunt of Akira's Pneuma, Kamoshida's knees buckled, and the squared-jawed coach took a step back before turning heel and leaving.
"You better watch yourself!"
Those words would have been imposing Kamoshida not been fleeing from the scene.
"Ryuji, let's go."
"…Dude…"
The two friends departed, leaving Mishima along with a few nearby students astonished.