Chapter 77 - Junko Shirogetsu
Thursday, October 19th
In hindsight, dragging everyone out for a day of shopping probably wasn’t my best idea. But could you blame me? After the all the bomb drops on the rooftop, we’d have imploded if we didn’t do something to blow off steam. The tension had been thick enough to choke on, and even now, walking through the wide glass doors of the clothing store, I could feel an wave of awkwardness clinging to us like static.
“I promise this will be fun, ladies” I said, spinning around to face Kotori, Hoshino, and Mizuko, who all looked varying degrees of unimpressed. Kotori shuffled nervously behind Hoshino like she was considering bolting, while Mizuko crossed her arms, an expression on her face I was all too familiar with – she was clearly humouring me out of obligation. Hoshino, as usual, looked like she was above it all, but I could tell she was trying not to roll her eyes too hard.
“Fun,” Mizuko repeated dryly, raising an eyebrow. “Of course. This is precisely how I imagined spending my free time.”
“Oh, come on,” I said, grabbing a random hat off a rack and jamming it on my head. “Look! Fashion. It’s a whole world of self-expression and—”
Hoshino snorted. “Junko, that looks like a leftover prop from a bad detective movie.”
I turned to the mirror and realized the hat was about three sizes too big and looked ridiculous perched on my head. I grinned.
“Detective Junko, on the case.”
That got a small chuckle out of Kotori, and I counted it as a win.
“See? Yami-san gets it. Let’s loosen up a little, yeah? Who knows—maybe we’ll find something that isn’t horrible.”
It started slow. Kotori lingered by the edges of the group, her movements tentative as she poked through racks of clothes. Mizuko sighed as though she had a million better things to do but begrudgingly started flipping through a stack of blouses. But Hoshino, surprisingly, was the first to dive in, her competitive streak shining as she seemingly made it her personal mission to find the most outrageous outfits and show them off.
The ice cracked when she emerged from the dressing room, slightly nervously, in a sequined blazer and neon green pants.
“Behold,” she announced, striking a pose, “the future of fashion.”
I burst out laughing, nearly doubling over. Even Mizuko cracked a smile, shaking her head.
“You look like you got attacked by a craft store.” I quipped between breaths.
Hoshino smirked, her surprisingly endearing shyness melting away. “Bold of you to assume it didn’t happen on purpose.”
From there, things gradually started to warm up. Hoshino, clearly embracing the whole ordeal, looked at me and challenged me to try on something “totally unhinged,” which led to me wobbling out in platform heels I could barely walk in, Mizuko having to steady me like an infant taking their first steps.
Kotori, still hesitant, was eventually coaxed into trying on a vintage-style dress that made her look like she’d stepped out of an old romance movie – but I’d be lying if I said she didn’t make it work. The way she blushed when Hoshino and I complimented her was downright adorable.
“See? Told you this would be fun,” I said, elbowing Mizuko as we all gathered near the mirrors.
She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. “Just don’t get used to this. I’ve been on too many of these ‘fashion excursions’ of yours to count,”
But even as she said it, I could see the corners of her lips twitching like she was fighting back a grin. Sure, moments like this didn’t fix everything - but at least, for now, it felt like we were finally starting to breathe again.
Sitting on the bench outside the store with Nakamura and Arthur was probably the least exciting thing I’d done all week. And considering the week involved fighting for my life in a literal nightmare realm, that was saying something.
I slouched, arms draped over the backrest, and stared at the shopping bags piled at our feet.
“You know,” I muttered, “if I’d known we’d be on bag duty, I would’ve followed Daisuke when he split.”
Arthur chuckled. “I think you’d have found an excuse no matter what.”
“Probably.”
Nakamura yawned, leaning back and tipping his head toward the sky through the mall’s glassy roof.
“Still better than running from all those Noise, though. At least the biggest danger here is accidentally buying something ugly.”
“Unless Junko gets ideas,” I said with a grin. “Then we’re all doomed.”
Arthur smirked, but the conversation was going nowhere fast. Feeling a little restless, I decided to shake things up.
“So,” I said, turning to Arthur with a pointed look, “you and Yami-san, huh?”
It took a few seconds for the implication to sink in, but once it did, his face instantly turned red. “W-what? No! We’re just friends!”
“Sure, sure,” I said, leaning back and folding my arms. “You’re ‘just friends.’ That’s why she practically hid behind you on the walk here, right? Looked like you were her emotional support animal or something.”
Nakamura, catching my tone, joined in with a sly grin. “And don’t forget how lost she looked when Junko dragged her off. Almost like a puppy being taken from its owner.”
Arthur groaned, burying his face in his hands. “You two are impossible.”
We laughed, but Arthur’s comment about Kotori struck a chord. “Honestly,” he said, his voice softening, “I don’t think she grew up with many friends. Stuff like this… it’s probably all new to her.”
I nodded, finding myself relating more than I expected. “Yeah. I get that. The last time I hung out with anyone outside like this was… Akio. The day before he died.”
The air shifted, the light-hearted teasing evaporating. Arthur and Nakamura exchanged glances, their expressions softening.
“Before that,” I continued, “it was Mizuo, my sister. A month or two before she… well, you know. Went the same way.” I forced a small, self-deprecating smile. “Guess I’ve got a habit of losing people. The ‘Liu effect,’ or something.”
Arthur shook his head, patting my shoulder. “Come on. Don’t do that to yourself.”
“Yeah,” Nakamura added. “Trust me, no one’s buying life insurance because of you.”
They meant well, but it didn’t stop the pang in my chest. “Thanks, guys,” I said quietly.
“Mizuo…” Nakamura suddenly said, his voice barely above a whisper.
I glanced at him, noticing the way his posture stiffened. “You okay?”
He blinked and quickly shook his head. “Yeah. Fine.”
“You sure?” Arthur pressed, frowning.
Before Nakamura could answer, he pointed across the street. “Hey, check that out.”
We followed his gaze to an arcade, where a crowd had gathered around one of the machines. There was cheering and clapping, and Nakamura immediately got to his feet.
“Let’s see what’s going on,” he said, already walking away.
“Uh, okay?” Arthur called after him.
I raised an eyebrow. “What was that about?”
“No idea,” Arthur muttered, standing up and motioning for me to follow. “Let’s go find out.”
I nodded, but something about Nakamura’s reaction left me uneasy.
Junko Shirogetsu
The arcade was alive with noise, lights flashing, the murmur of crowds, and the high-energy music pumping through the speakers. After an afternoon of clothes shopping, a stop at a café, and too many stares from the people we passed, we had ended up here – at the dance machine, of all places.
We barely made it three steps into the arcade when Liu and Arthur approached us. Their expressions said it all—Ryota had gone off somewhere, and judging by Arthur’s faint grimace and Liu’s amused shrug, it wasn’t just to play air hockey.
“Let me guess,” Hoshino muttered, folding her arms. “Ryota got distracted.”
Arthur scratched the back of his neck. “He’s... nearby. Let’s just say he’s found something that caught his attention.”
“Something?” I raised an eyebrow. “Or someone?”
Liu chuckled. “You’ll see. He’s not far.”
I sighed. With Ryota, it could’ve been anything—a flashy machine, some obscure contest, or some poor unsuspecting soul he’d roped into one of his antics.
“Where is he?”
“Over there.” Arthur nodded toward the far side of the arcade, where a large crowd was gathering.
The thumping bassline of some electronic track pulsed through the air as we approached. The machine at the center of the commotion was new, its neon lights flashing and synchronized to the beat. A massive screen above the machine displayed a stylized silhouette leaping and twirling across an animated dancefloor.
But it wasn’t the game itself that had drawn the crowd—it was the girl playing it.
Ryota was perched on the edge of the scene, clapping along with the beat, clearly enthralled. The girl on the platform was a blur of movement, her feet pounding the illuminated tiles in perfect synchronization with the music. She was magnetic, her confident energy pulling the crowd in like moths to a flame.
Then I saw her face.
My blood turned to ice.
Her hair was tied up in a sleek, high ponytail, her stylish outfit a far cry from the armor she’d been wearing the last time we’d crossed paths. But there was no mistaking her. The sharp glint in her eyes, the way she carried herself, the precise control in every motion—it was her.
The woman we’d fought last night.
My gaze darted to Hoshino. She’d frozen in place, her knuckles whitening as she clenched her fists. She recognized her too..
What the hell was she doing here?
“Junko?” Arthur’s voice pulled me back to reality. “You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I forced myself to blink, trying to suppress the storm raging inside me. “I’m fine,” I muttered.
Arthur didn’t look convinced, but before he could press further, Liu let out a low whistle. “Wow. She’s good,” he said, watching as she spun effortlessly on the platform, hitting every step with pinpoint accuracy. “Think Ryota’s going to challenge her?”
“Knowing him? Definitely,” Arthur said, his lips twitching into a smile.
But Ryota wasn’t the one the woman set her sights on. As the final beats of the track echoed through the arcade, she turned her head—and her gaze, by some cruel twist of fate, locked with mine.
My heart stopped.
Her eyes widened at first, but she quickly overwrote it with a smug smirk, stepping off the platform with the casual confidence of someone who owned the space around them. The crowd parted for her as she approached, her sharp eyes never leaving mine.
“…Impressive, huh?” she said, her voice smooth and taunting. “Think you can do better?”
The crowd erupted into cheers and whistles, urging me to take the challenge. My pulse quickened, every instinct screaming at me to walk away, to regroup, to figure out why she was here. But I couldn’t move. It wasn’t fear holding me in place—it was anger. She didn’t just recognize me. She was challenging me. Brazenly, in front of everyone.
Hoshino stepped closer to me, her voice low and tense. “Junko, don’t.”
“She knows,” I hissed under my breath. “She knows exactly who we are.”
“Yeah, and she’s trying to bait you. Don’t fall for it.”
The crowd was growing louder, the cheers blending into a cacophony that made it impossible to think straight. My challenger tilted her head, her smirk widening as she took a step closer.
“What’s wrong?” she teased. “Scared you’ll lose?”
My fists clenched at my sides.
“Junko,” Hoshino warned, her tone sharp. “This isn’t the time.”
But it was too late.
I stepped forward, my voice cutting through the noise.
“Fine. Let’s see what you’ve got.” I said, taking off my jacket and handing it into Hoshino’s weary arms.
The crowd erupted again, parting to make way for us as I stepped onto the platform. Her smirk never faltered, her eyes gleaming with amusement—and something darker I didn’t recognize.
But there was one thing I could tell, more than anything – that this was no longer just a game.
This was a message.
“You sure you want to do this… Junko? I wouldn’t want your boyfriend over there to think you’re distracted.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn't hide the flash of irritation that flickered through me. She was talking about Ryota, of course. Not only that, she knew my name and the nature of our relationship. I could already feel his eyes on me, his focus unwavering, even as the lights of the arcade spun around us.
“Keep your eyes off him,” I shot back, stepping onto the dance pad, “He’s just a boy with bad taste.”
The teasing smile in her eyes only deepened.
“We both know you’re lying,” she said, her voice dripping with amusement. “But hey, it’s not like I’m judging you or anything. You’ve got to hold onto something, right?”
She said it like it was a joke, but I wasn’t laughing.
"Shut up," I muttered, squaring my shoulders. "You’re on my turf now. You’ll need more than your little cat-and-mouse game to beat me."
The song started, the machine flashing bright neon colours as the beat kicked in. We were off, feet sliding and tapping to the rhythm, our bodies mirroring the moves, sweat beading on my brow as I pushed harder, faster, not wanting to give her an inch. It was clear she was talented. Her style was a blend of fluidity and precision, effortlessly matching the beat with every step.
And still, I pushed back.
The audience around us seemed to swell with excitement as we neared the final notes, both of us a blur of motion. Sweat trickled down the side of my face, my heart pounding, not just from the intensity of the game, but from the tension that hung in the air between us.
We reached the end of the song, and I felt the score flash across the screen.
A tie.
I stood there panting, glaring at her, my muscles aching but my resolve firm. She was staring right back, a dangerous smile on her face, her eyes sharp with competition and something deeper. It was the same look I had when I was ready to fight.
She was still playful as she wiped her brow. "You’re not bad. But are you ready for the next round?"
Before I could respond, the crowd started to disperse a little, people muttering and leaving. The arcade noise was louder now, almost muffling the conversation happening just a few feet away from us.
That was when she paused, her eyes suddenly shifting.
A tall, broad-shouldered woman appeared beside her. She looked serious, her gaze calculating as she watched the scene unfold. She said something to her, too low for me to catch, but it was enough to make my opponent glance at me one last time, a strange flicker of caution passing over her face.
"Come on, Aimi," the woman urged, "We should go."
Aimi smirked at me, practically daring me to stop them.
But something in me stilled. I was watching them carefully now, the weight of the situation sinking in. Aimi’s smirk faded as she caught sight of someone across the room, her eyes narrowing for the briefest of moments, before all traces of smugness disappeared from her face, replaced by something else—something I couldn’t quite place. Recognition? Curiosity? Fear?
I followed her gaze to find Kotori, of all people, meeting it. Just standing there…staring back at Aimi.
There was something heavy in her gaze in that moment, something unreadable. I wanted to know what was going through her head, but I didn’t have time to process it.
Then, before I could do anything, Aimi and the tall woman were turning away, making their exit. I wanted to call out to them, challenge them more, but the words stuck in my throat.
"That was her," Hoshino revealed, speaking up beside me as I stepped off the platform and rejoined the group. “The one we saw last night. And whoever she walked off with is definitely connected.”
I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Yeah… no question."
Nakamura was the first to speak up again. "S-Shouldn’t we should follow them? Figure out what they know about all of this?"
But even as he said it, there was hesitation in his voice. The crowd around us had thinned out, and I could feel the eyes of strangers on us now. We couldn’t follow them without making ourselves obvious.
There was no telling if Aimi and her friend were as powerful as Juno. Hell, there was no way to know what they were capable of in the real world, outside of the Hollow Night.
I looked back at the group, feeling a sudden wave of heaviness roll over me. This had started as a stupid, carefree outing – a break from all the insanity, a taste of normalcy.
But now, we were all too aware that this moment was fleeting.
"Well, that’s it then," I muttered, my tone flat, my chest tight with something that felt too close to defeat. "Looks like our little ‘vacation’ is over."
We had all been trying to pretend we could escape. Trying to pretend we were still human, that we were still kids who could laugh and joke around like we weren’t running for our lives in some twisted game.
But the night was closing in, and we all knew that things were about to get a lot darker.
Ryota placed a hand on my shoulder then, giving me a small, reassuring smile.
"Hey, at least you showed her what’s what. I’d say that’s a win, any day. You were like lightning up there."
I rolled my eyes, but the gesture was pointless when he could clearly see the faint smile tugging at my lips, shooting a stupidly adorable grin back at me and pulling me close.
As the group began to disperse, we all exchanged quiet goodbyes, promising to meet up again later – one way or another. Hoshino left with Liu, Kotori walked off with Arthur, and I found myself alongside Ryota, trailing behind Mizuko we headed in the opposite direction.
For a moment, I glanced back over my shoulder, half-expecting to see Aimi watching us from the shadows.
But there was nothing there.
In that moment, I felt Ryota’s hand brush mine. We both stiffened at first, evidently still trying to navigate the invisible maze of physical touch and its boundaries. Eventually I decided to stop overthinking things and hooked my fingers in between his, clasping them tight. His warm hand gripped mine back. It felt oddly comfortable.
And yet, I couldn’t shake the familiar feeling that the brief peace we’d found today was the calm before the storm.
After all, night was coming.
Thursday, October 19th
In hindsight, dragging everyone out for a day of shopping probably wasn’t my best idea. But could you blame me? After the all the bomb drops on the rooftop, we’d have imploded if we didn’t do something to blow off steam. The tension had been thick enough to choke on, and even now, walking through the wide glass doors of the clothing store, I could feel an wave of awkwardness clinging to us like static.
“I promise this will be fun, ladies” I said, spinning around to face Kotori, Hoshino, and Mizuko, who all looked varying degrees of unimpressed. Kotori shuffled nervously behind Hoshino like she was considering bolting, while Mizuko crossed her arms, an expression on her face I was all too familiar with – she was clearly humouring me out of obligation. Hoshino, as usual, looked like she was above it all, but I could tell she was trying not to roll her eyes too hard.
“Fun,” Mizuko repeated dryly, raising an eyebrow. “Of course. This is precisely how I imagined spending my free time.”
“Oh, come on,” I said, grabbing a random hat off a rack and jamming it on my head. “Look! Fashion. It’s a whole world of self-expression and—”
Hoshino snorted. “Junko, that looks like a leftover prop from a bad detective movie.”
I turned to the mirror and realized the hat was about three sizes too big and looked ridiculous perched on my head. I grinned.
“Detective Junko, on the case.”
That got a small chuckle out of Kotori, and I counted it as a win.
“See? Yami-san gets it. Let’s loosen up a little, yeah? Who knows—maybe we’ll find something that isn’t horrible.”
It started slow. Kotori lingered by the edges of the group, her movements tentative as she poked through racks of clothes. Mizuko sighed as though she had a million better things to do but begrudgingly started flipping through a stack of blouses. But Hoshino, surprisingly, was the first to dive in, her competitive streak shining as she seemingly made it her personal mission to find the most outrageous outfits and show them off.
The ice cracked when she emerged from the dressing room, slightly nervously, in a sequined blazer and neon green pants.
“Behold,” she announced, striking a pose, “the future of fashion.”
I burst out laughing, nearly doubling over. Even Mizuko cracked a smile, shaking her head.
“You look like you got attacked by a craft store.” I quipped between breaths.
Hoshino smirked, her surprisingly endearing shyness melting away. “Bold of you to assume it didn’t happen on purpose.”
From there, things gradually started to warm up. Hoshino, clearly embracing the whole ordeal, looked at me and challenged me to try on something “totally unhinged,” which led to me wobbling out in platform heels I could barely walk in, Mizuko having to steady me like an infant taking their first steps.
Kotori, still hesitant, was eventually coaxed into trying on a vintage-style dress that made her look like she’d stepped out of an old romance movie – but I’d be lying if I said she didn’t make it work. The way she blushed when Hoshino and I complimented her was downright adorable.
“See? Told you this would be fun,” I said, elbowing Mizuko as we all gathered near the mirrors.
She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. “Just don’t get used to this. I’ve been on too many of these ‘fashion excursions’ of yours to count,”
But even as she said it, I could see the corners of her lips twitching like she was fighting back a grin. Sure, moments like this didn’t fix everything - but at least, for now, it felt like we were finally starting to breathe again.
Liu KatoruSitting on the bench outside the store with Nakamura and Arthur was probably the least exciting thing I’d done all week. And considering the week involved fighting for my life in a literal nightmare realm, that was saying something.
I slouched, arms draped over the backrest, and stared at the shopping bags piled at our feet.
“You know,” I muttered, “if I’d known we’d be on bag duty, I would’ve followed Daisuke when he split.”
Arthur chuckled. “I think you’d have found an excuse no matter what.”
“Probably.”
Nakamura yawned, leaning back and tipping his head toward the sky through the mall’s glassy roof.
“Still better than running from all those Noise, though. At least the biggest danger here is accidentally buying something ugly.”
“Unless Junko gets ideas,” I said with a grin. “Then we’re all doomed.”
Arthur smirked, but the conversation was going nowhere fast. Feeling a little restless, I decided to shake things up.
“So,” I said, turning to Arthur with a pointed look, “you and Yami-san, huh?”
It took a few seconds for the implication to sink in, but once it did, his face instantly turned red. “W-what? No! We’re just friends!”
“Sure, sure,” I said, leaning back and folding my arms. “You’re ‘just friends.’ That’s why she practically hid behind you on the walk here, right? Looked like you were her emotional support animal or something.”
Nakamura, catching my tone, joined in with a sly grin. “And don’t forget how lost she looked when Junko dragged her off. Almost like a puppy being taken from its owner.”
Arthur groaned, burying his face in his hands. “You two are impossible.”
We laughed, but Arthur’s comment about Kotori struck a chord. “Honestly,” he said, his voice softening, “I don’t think she grew up with many friends. Stuff like this… it’s probably all new to her.”
I nodded, finding myself relating more than I expected. “Yeah. I get that. The last time I hung out with anyone outside like this was… Akio. The day before he died.”
The air shifted, the light-hearted teasing evaporating. Arthur and Nakamura exchanged glances, their expressions softening.
“Before that,” I continued, “it was Mizuo, my sister. A month or two before she… well, you know. Went the same way.” I forced a small, self-deprecating smile. “Guess I’ve got a habit of losing people. The ‘Liu effect,’ or something.”
Arthur shook his head, patting my shoulder. “Come on. Don’t do that to yourself.”
“Yeah,” Nakamura added. “Trust me, no one’s buying life insurance because of you.”
They meant well, but it didn’t stop the pang in my chest. “Thanks, guys,” I said quietly.
“Mizuo…” Nakamura suddenly said, his voice barely above a whisper.
I glanced at him, noticing the way his posture stiffened. “You okay?”
He blinked and quickly shook his head. “Yeah. Fine.”
“You sure?” Arthur pressed, frowning.
Before Nakamura could answer, he pointed across the street. “Hey, check that out.”
We followed his gaze to an arcade, where a crowd had gathered around one of the machines. There was cheering and clapping, and Nakamura immediately got to his feet.
“Let’s see what’s going on,” he said, already walking away.
“Uh, okay?” Arthur called after him.
I raised an eyebrow. “What was that about?”
“No idea,” Arthur muttered, standing up and motioning for me to follow. “Let’s go find out.”
I nodded, but something about Nakamura’s reaction left me uneasy.
Junko Shirogetsu
The arcade was alive with noise, lights flashing, the murmur of crowds, and the high-energy music pumping through the speakers. After an afternoon of clothes shopping, a stop at a café, and too many stares from the people we passed, we had ended up here – at the dance machine, of all places.
We barely made it three steps into the arcade when Liu and Arthur approached us. Their expressions said it all—Ryota had gone off somewhere, and judging by Arthur’s faint grimace and Liu’s amused shrug, it wasn’t just to play air hockey.
“Let me guess,” Hoshino muttered, folding her arms. “Ryota got distracted.”
Arthur scratched the back of his neck. “He’s... nearby. Let’s just say he’s found something that caught his attention.”
“Something?” I raised an eyebrow. “Or someone?”
Liu chuckled. “You’ll see. He’s not far.”
I sighed. With Ryota, it could’ve been anything—a flashy machine, some obscure contest, or some poor unsuspecting soul he’d roped into one of his antics.
“Where is he?”
“Over there.” Arthur nodded toward the far side of the arcade, where a large crowd was gathering.
The thumping bassline of some electronic track pulsed through the air as we approached. The machine at the center of the commotion was new, its neon lights flashing and synchronized to the beat. A massive screen above the machine displayed a stylized silhouette leaping and twirling across an animated dancefloor.
But it wasn’t the game itself that had drawn the crowd—it was the girl playing it.
Ryota was perched on the edge of the scene, clapping along with the beat, clearly enthralled. The girl on the platform was a blur of movement, her feet pounding the illuminated tiles in perfect synchronization with the music. She was magnetic, her confident energy pulling the crowd in like moths to a flame.
Then I saw her face.
My blood turned to ice.
Her hair was tied up in a sleek, high ponytail, her stylish outfit a far cry from the armor she’d been wearing the last time we’d crossed paths. But there was no mistaking her. The sharp glint in her eyes, the way she carried herself, the precise control in every motion—it was her.
The woman we’d fought last night.
My gaze darted to Hoshino. She’d frozen in place, her knuckles whitening as she clenched her fists. She recognized her too..
What the hell was she doing here?
“Junko?” Arthur’s voice pulled me back to reality. “You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I forced myself to blink, trying to suppress the storm raging inside me. “I’m fine,” I muttered.
Arthur didn’t look convinced, but before he could press further, Liu let out a low whistle. “Wow. She’s good,” he said, watching as she spun effortlessly on the platform, hitting every step with pinpoint accuracy. “Think Ryota’s going to challenge her?”
“Knowing him? Definitely,” Arthur said, his lips twitching into a smile.
But Ryota wasn’t the one the woman set her sights on. As the final beats of the track echoed through the arcade, she turned her head—and her gaze, by some cruel twist of fate, locked with mine.
My heart stopped.
Her eyes widened at first, but she quickly overwrote it with a smug smirk, stepping off the platform with the casual confidence of someone who owned the space around them. The crowd parted for her as she approached, her sharp eyes never leaving mine.
“…Impressive, huh?” she said, her voice smooth and taunting. “Think you can do better?”
The crowd erupted into cheers and whistles, urging me to take the challenge. My pulse quickened, every instinct screaming at me to walk away, to regroup, to figure out why she was here. But I couldn’t move. It wasn’t fear holding me in place—it was anger. She didn’t just recognize me. She was challenging me. Brazenly, in front of everyone.
Hoshino stepped closer to me, her voice low and tense. “Junko, don’t.”
“She knows,” I hissed under my breath. “She knows exactly who we are.”
“Yeah, and she’s trying to bait you. Don’t fall for it.”
The crowd was growing louder, the cheers blending into a cacophony that made it impossible to think straight. My challenger tilted her head, her smirk widening as she took a step closer.
“What’s wrong?” she teased. “Scared you’ll lose?”
My fists clenched at my sides.
“Junko,” Hoshino warned, her tone sharp. “This isn’t the time.”
But it was too late.
I stepped forward, my voice cutting through the noise.
“Fine. Let’s see what you’ve got.” I said, taking off my jacket and handing it into Hoshino’s weary arms.
The crowd erupted again, parting to make way for us as I stepped onto the platform. Her smirk never faltered, her eyes gleaming with amusement—and something darker I didn’t recognize.
But there was one thing I could tell, more than anything – that this was no longer just a game.
This was a message.
“You sure you want to do this… Junko? I wouldn’t want your boyfriend over there to think you’re distracted.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn't hide the flash of irritation that flickered through me. She was talking about Ryota, of course. Not only that, she knew my name and the nature of our relationship. I could already feel his eyes on me, his focus unwavering, even as the lights of the arcade spun around us.
“Keep your eyes off him,” I shot back, stepping onto the dance pad, “He’s just a boy with bad taste.”
The teasing smile in her eyes only deepened.
“We both know you’re lying,” she said, her voice dripping with amusement. “But hey, it’s not like I’m judging you or anything. You’ve got to hold onto something, right?”
She said it like it was a joke, but I wasn’t laughing.
"Shut up," I muttered, squaring my shoulders. "You’re on my turf now. You’ll need more than your little cat-and-mouse game to beat me."
The song started, the machine flashing bright neon colours as the beat kicked in. We were off, feet sliding and tapping to the rhythm, our bodies mirroring the moves, sweat beading on my brow as I pushed harder, faster, not wanting to give her an inch. It was clear she was talented. Her style was a blend of fluidity and precision, effortlessly matching the beat with every step.
And still, I pushed back.
The audience around us seemed to swell with excitement as we neared the final notes, both of us a blur of motion. Sweat trickled down the side of my face, my heart pounding, not just from the intensity of the game, but from the tension that hung in the air between us.
We reached the end of the song, and I felt the score flash across the screen.
A tie.
I stood there panting, glaring at her, my muscles aching but my resolve firm. She was staring right back, a dangerous smile on her face, her eyes sharp with competition and something deeper. It was the same look I had when I was ready to fight.
She was still playful as she wiped her brow. "You’re not bad. But are you ready for the next round?"
Before I could respond, the crowd started to disperse a little, people muttering and leaving. The arcade noise was louder now, almost muffling the conversation happening just a few feet away from us.
That was when she paused, her eyes suddenly shifting.
A tall, broad-shouldered woman appeared beside her. She looked serious, her gaze calculating as she watched the scene unfold. She said something to her, too low for me to catch, but it was enough to make my opponent glance at me one last time, a strange flicker of caution passing over her face.
"Come on, Aimi," the woman urged, "We should go."
Aimi smirked at me, practically daring me to stop them.
But something in me stilled. I was watching them carefully now, the weight of the situation sinking in. Aimi’s smirk faded as she caught sight of someone across the room, her eyes narrowing for the briefest of moments, before all traces of smugness disappeared from her face, replaced by something else—something I couldn’t quite place. Recognition? Curiosity? Fear?
I followed her gaze to find Kotori, of all people, meeting it. Just standing there…staring back at Aimi.
There was something heavy in her gaze in that moment, something unreadable. I wanted to know what was going through her head, but I didn’t have time to process it.
Then, before I could do anything, Aimi and the tall woman were turning away, making their exit. I wanted to call out to them, challenge them more, but the words stuck in my throat.
"That was her," Hoshino revealed, speaking up beside me as I stepped off the platform and rejoined the group. “The one we saw last night. And whoever she walked off with is definitely connected.”
I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Yeah… no question."
Nakamura was the first to speak up again. "S-Shouldn’t we should follow them? Figure out what they know about all of this?"
But even as he said it, there was hesitation in his voice. The crowd around us had thinned out, and I could feel the eyes of strangers on us now. We couldn’t follow them without making ourselves obvious.
There was no telling if Aimi and her friend were as powerful as Juno. Hell, there was no way to know what they were capable of in the real world, outside of the Hollow Night.
I looked back at the group, feeling a sudden wave of heaviness roll over me. This had started as a stupid, carefree outing – a break from all the insanity, a taste of normalcy.
But now, we were all too aware that this moment was fleeting.
"Well, that’s it then," I muttered, my tone flat, my chest tight with something that felt too close to defeat. "Looks like our little ‘vacation’ is over."
We had all been trying to pretend we could escape. Trying to pretend we were still human, that we were still kids who could laugh and joke around like we weren’t running for our lives in some twisted game.
But the night was closing in, and we all knew that things were about to get a lot darker.
Ryota placed a hand on my shoulder then, giving me a small, reassuring smile.
"Hey, at least you showed her what’s what. I’d say that’s a win, any day. You were like lightning up there."
I rolled my eyes, but the gesture was pointless when he could clearly see the faint smile tugging at my lips, shooting a stupidly adorable grin back at me and pulling me close.
As the group began to disperse, we all exchanged quiet goodbyes, promising to meet up again later – one way or another. Hoshino left with Liu, Kotori walked off with Arthur, and I found myself alongside Ryota, trailing behind Mizuko we headed in the opposite direction.
For a moment, I glanced back over my shoulder, half-expecting to see Aimi watching us from the shadows.
But there was nothing there.
In that moment, I felt Ryota’s hand brush mine. We both stiffened at first, evidently still trying to navigate the invisible maze of physical touch and its boundaries. Eventually I decided to stop overthinking things and hooked my fingers in between his, clasping them tight. His warm hand gripped mine back. It felt oddly comfortable.
And yet, I couldn’t shake the familiar feeling that the brief peace we’d found today was the calm before the storm.
After all, night was coming.