Seventeen

When the warning bell sounded, they had a plan- help Kikiyo however they could, in every way they could. If Mamoru's letters really meant she was going to die because of her choices, they needed to intervene. Kaho balled a fist and made her way back to class. Mariah was nattering about ways they could help, proposing giving money to Ichigo instead. She had just started her first year of High School and was down on the first floor with the other new students. But how much did Ichigo know? 

"Is it fair to even involve her, she's too young to get a job, won't Kikiyo worry if Ichigo starts coming home with a wad of cash?" Kaho asked. 

"Not today- not when she knows exactly where that wad came from!" Mariah exclaimed. Despite the encroaching late bell, she passed the door to 2B and pulled Mamoru back, whispering into his ear. He looked at her, eyebrows raised. Clearly he agreed with Mariah. Kaho frowned and went inside. 

There was someone standing at her desk, gazing out the window, cradling something in his arms. Kaho paused, eyes narrowing. 

"Hey there Matsuoka," Kaho said quietly, "What you got there?"

Naseru tensed, turning to face her, gawking at her, eyes wide. He had her drawing tablet in his arms, her latest illustration, the portrait of Taiga playing basketball, surrounded by abstract swirls in the purple and blue night. She hadn't realized she'd left it behind in the classroom when she went to lunch, so preoccupied by Kikiyo and working out how to help her. Naseru was looking at her, a warmth in his gaze she hadn't quite seen before. His eyes were glassy as he looked up at her. For just a moment. Naseru had tilted his cheek and blinked furiously as Matsuoka held the tablet out to her. 

"You're really good, Aigawa."

You're really good, Aigawa? Surely this wasn't what Kaho was supposed to be waiting for- had her Future Self really felt so strongly about those words? 

Kaho stared up at Naseru, eyes wide, "Thank you, Matsuoka."

"Are you um, in the art club? You should be."

Kaho furrowed her brows, crossing her arms across her chest, "You can't be serious. It's just a hobby."

"Doesn't look like a hobby to be," Naseru said, "You have dozens of drawings on here." 

Kaho shrugged, "I like to draw."

"Then join the art club, Aigawa, I'm sure Makoto and the others would be happy to have you." 

Their history teacher Moriyama Sensei cleared her throat, "Aigawa, Matsuoka, can you wait until my lesson is over to have a domestic and kindly sit down? Thank you." 

Naseru blushed and thrust the drawing tablet into Kaho's arms. She was blushing too. She shoved the tablet back into her school bag and sighed to herself. Was this one of those opportunities her Future Self had talked about?

Naseru was the first one out of the door after the school day ended, leaving Kaho staring at the vacant seat in front of her, jaw set as she dug her nails into her palms. She'd spent all of her afternoon classes thinking of things she would ask him about the art â€" did he like the colours, did he think it was too dark, or had the nostalgic aspect of the game and Taiga's memories resonated. Did he know who she'd drawn? Did he know she was his brother's best friend's sister? 

Kaho sighed and shouldered her bag, Mamoru was waiting for her at the door. 

"Ichigo is a go. Left her a note pretending to be Kikiyo's boss. Said she forgot her tips. Left some for her too, separate envelope. Who cares what Ichigo spends it on. Hopefully it won't be something dumb but if it's something dumb it's something dumb."

"You're so kind, Mamoru," Mariah said, "Kikiyo is lucky to have you."

He shrugged, "I'm lucky to have her."

Mamoru's house was, essentially, a mansion. A sprawling grandiose building that looked distinctly decadent and western compared to the houses closer to the school. It sat on a rural street, surrounded by rice fields and wildflowers, with sandy yellow brickwork and high ceilings. Once upon a time, Mamoru's family had made their fortune from bountiful rice crops, but Kaho doubted they cared to farm anymore, not when the family-owned half the fields in the county, let alone the prefecture. Their rice empire was recognized overseas, one of the few brands that were sold in the supermarkets her father visited.

"You can keep your shoes on," Mamoru said, opening the front door, "The floors are cold at this time of year." 

Beautiful grey and white marble tiles covered the entranceway and led into Mamoru's living room. He gestured to the plush velvet sofas for Kaho and Mariah to sit down. They did as he asked and watched him dash upstairs. They couldn't hear his footfalls as he raced backdown the stairs, but when he did, a box was in his hands. A familiar looking box. Inside were black envelopes, all of which bore the same red sticker, just like Kaho's. They were dated, too. He dumped the letters between Mariah and Kaho on the sofa and crossed his arms. 

"I'm getting snacks, and paper, and stuff. We need an actual plan now. 'Kay? Tea? Soda?" 

"Oh! Do you have Earl Grey?" Mariah asked, "I'd kill for some of that. I never bring enough of it back when we go to Canada." 

"Er, I think so?" Mamoru said, "Kaho?" 

"Normal tea is fine, thanks."

Mamoru left them to his letters. Mariah lifted the first one, the one that bore the same date as Kaho's first letter, just a few weeks ago. 

Mariah snatched it away from Kaho and passed her the second one, "Was your first one essentially a debrief?" 

Kaho nodded, "Yeah. I just had one instruction, protect Matsuoka Naseru." 

"The new kid? What the Hell are you protecting him from?" 

Kaho shrugged, "What was your mission?" 

Mariah shrugged, "Nothing important â€" not compared to Kikiyo. So it's probably just gonna say what we already know â€" if she keeps working like this she's going to die. So, screw the first letter. Next one." 

'Mamoru,

Kikiyo owns a bento from her local convenience store. It's pink and otherwise nondescript. Buy one. Fill it with food. She's not eating. Swap her lunch round with this bento box when she isn't looking. 

Things are bad in that house. It's what I told you in the first letter. Her Dad, because of what your family did to keep you from her… caused her dad to crudely lose his banking job. Her Mum's run away ragged from trying to just keeping a roof over their heads, and their kids know. Well, Kikiyo and Ichigo knew by the end of all of this. But you need to help her. You need to help them because unlike anyone else, you can afford to. Use that frivolous money and do something. Give it to them. Feed them. Help them. 

Kikiyo's on a dangerous, path here. She's going to do something that'll cost her her life. You need to keep that from happening. I know how you feel about her.'

"Crap," Mamoru said, a small tea tray in hands, "Which one is that." 

"The second," Kaho said, not looking him in the eye. 

"You know how you feel about her?" Mariah said, raising a brow. Kaho elbowed her in the ribs. 

Mamoru blushed and set the tray down, "I don't have to explain my feelings to you, Mariah." 

She shrugged, "Why are you so obsessed with her anyway?" 

"It isn't obsession!" Mamoru protested, crossing his arms, "I'm in love with her and if I don't do something â€" if we don't do something â€" she is going to die."

"Damn. He said it," Mariah muttered, "I owe Ryota ten thousand yen." 

Mamoru reached into his pocket and produced a crisp ten thousand yen note. He handed it to Mariah, "I wouldn't have said it if I hadn't dragged you into a mess I couldn't fix."

Kaho sighed, reaching for the next letter. There were two sheets of paper. 

'Sneak some food into her school bag today, she's going to be so worn out from her jobs and school she won't notice an innocuous can of coffee or a melon bread' was written on one. The other had Kurosaki Katsuo's name stricken across it. 

"That happens a lot," Mamoru said, "I was very clear that Hikaru didn't hurt Sayuri. God, you have to wonder what would have happened if we weren't intervening. Ueno was convinced it was Hikaru, surely she would have swayed us too." 

"Fucking Ueno," Mariah muttered, opening the next letter. 

'Kikiyo's exhausted, offer to help her with her science revision. She'll say no, she's too proud. But she'll appreciate the gesture. Sneak a can of coffee in her bag when you get your notes. She won't notice and think she left it there after work' was written on one sheet. On the other was another protestation of Hikaru's innocence and Katsuo's guilt. 

'Kikiyo will have worked a double shift. She's going to be tired, and won't be agreeable. Officer Ueno will have raised hell and wrecked your plans to bowl yesterday and Kikiyo and Mariah will be grumpy. Kikiyo wants to go, and can be convinced. Just let her be swept along. Don't push. Watch what she's eyeing up in the alley. Be alert.' 

'Kobayashi Hikaru is innocent â€" it was Kurosaki Katsuo' was written on the second sheet. 

Each day was similar, simple sets of instructions telling Mamoru where to go, what to buy, bring or offer Kikiyo. 

'Today is important Mamoru. If Kikiyo passes out on the roof today, she's going to be sent home. If you're reading this and she falls, she's more stubborn than I remember. She will go home and rest, then work her double at the convenience store and pick up an extra shift at the late night café by the station. While she's home, she will Google something she shouldn't and is going to set up a meeting at Luvrz Motel by the canal for Monday. If she collapses today, you're too late and the thought is in her head. Do whatever you can to keep her from making that appointment. If she gets this job, a John will kill her by next Friday and ruin Ichigo and her siblings' lives.'

Kaho dropped the letter on the coffee table. Mariah excused herself to the lobby's hallway toilet. Mamoru and Kaho heard her vomit. 

"She's going to go into sex work," Kaho said quietly, "And some creepy John is going to kill her?" 

"You've seen the letters. Future Me didn't tell me til now. Fuck! She's going to die. Future Me couldn't save her and I'm going to fail too." 

Mamoru got to his feet and threw the tea tray, Mariah's cup of early grey tea shattering against the wall. The warm brew pooled along the marble floors and Mamoru wept into his hands. 

"I'm sorry Mamoru, we'll do everything we can, I swear."