3.0: https://rentry.org/zuq78
3.1: https://rentry.org/qd6pk
3.2: You are here

ENTER: The office of ANZU NISHIMA, better known as KARABURAN; she is seated behind her desk. Opposite her is AIKO AMI, better known as ROSETHORN. Both women look visibly exhausted. It's been a long and harrowing week.

KARABURAN: I'm sorry, Aiko. I wish I could do more. But the authorities want their pound of flesh and the public is baying for blood.
ROSETHORN, dully: I understand. It happened on my watch.
KARABURAN: To be fair, no one could have seen this coming.
ROSETHORN: I should have done more. Paid more attention to Owari, perhaps. I had my doubts after the tournament…
KARABURAN: The fault lies partially with me. The signs were there in retrospect.

She shifts in her chair, adjusting the stump of her left arm.

KARABURAN, soothing: Anyway, taking a breather would be good for you. It's only for a few weeks. Treat it as a holiday.
ROSETHORN: I'll try.

After a few more attempts at small talk, ROSETHORN leaves. As the door clicks shut behind her, KARABURAN rises to her feet with an explosive sigh and cracks her back.

KARABURAN, under her breath: First that incident at the beach, then the dating scandals, then all those hospitalizations, then the exams, and now this. What's next, overthrowing the government?

CUT TO: Class 1-D. It's been a week since the death of Mio Katsuragi. KYODA HIRO winces as he leans back in his seat, a plaster on his forehead. OROCHI ATSUSHI glances at him.

OROCHI: You good?
HIRO: Just a concussion. It may have been a blessing in disguise, actually. The hospital told my family to expect some behavioural changes.
OROCHI, enviously: Damn. I should try that too.

Elsewhere, NYORO HOGE is speaking softly to a hunched-over HIFUMI TAKEDA. BOBBY SAMSON and INIGO MYOGA occasionally glance over to check on the both of them.

HOGE: - would want to support and help you, the same way he's driven to do so for so many other people. You get me?
HIFUMI: I guess.

Over to MINNIE KIM, HAILEY CHANG, FAITH KANG, MAX NGUYEN and EDIE LEE. KAYLEE SUZUKI is listening in too.

HAILEY: - definitely noticed that Hifumi's different. His sister even called me up the other night, can you believe that?
FAITH: Like, if you really think about it, Mio dying provided us with a water-tight justification for radical personality changes.
MAX: Oh, god. I thought I was the only one.
MINNIE: Of course you're not the only one. I'm just happy I didn't have to kill her myself. I wouldn't have been able to do it.
HAILEY, impatiently: Anyway, I talked it over with her, and we've decided to try and talk him into going to therapy.

CHRIS CAIN turns back to face the front of the classroom and kneads his temples. SOUJYUURO IMAI leans over.

IMAI: Are you going to tell them?
CHRIS: I don't know. Maybe.
IMAI: I think Tame might want the same treatment.
CHRIS: I'd like to leave a failsafe or something, at least. Doesn't feel right consigning them to oblivion just like that.
IMAI: But they aren't going to be consigned to oblivion, not really. They'll still have the same sense of self, just… short of a few memories.
CHRIS: Try a metric fuckton of memories. For all intents and purposes, they'll think they're their characters. And they'll have to deal with the fact that all of their classmates now have a context which they don't.

Behind them, SHINKAN SEN, SORA TANAKA and TAKARA TAME are engaged in conversation. SHINKAN is leaning against his desk, arms folded.

SHINKAN: - to hear that. For me, it's just that my head is heavier, bulkier and harder. There's a vent on top, and coal now tastes like…

He shrugs and shakes his head.

SHINKAN: I dunno. I can eat it now, I guess?
TAME: Cool.

Meanwhile, ASHLEIGH KATSURAGI is at YUI SAGARA's desk, talking to both her and SON JUGO. To JUGO's left is an empty desk, conspicuously vacant.

ASHLEIGH: - think my father just thought I was shell-shocked. But I wasn't, not really. Even Ashleigh's own memories corroborate it. Mio was a huge bitch to her even before I dropped in.
YUI: It's okay not to mourn her death.
ASHLEIGH: Yeah, I know. It's just that my father's really torn up about it. Which makes sense, but also…
JUGO: You could tell him about how Mio really was.
ASHLEIGH: I don't want to speak ill of the dead. Even in a fictional world.

CHIHIRO MITSURUGI has joined BOBBY and INIGO at the back.

BOBBY: - can't believe they actually call this sort of incidents 'school quirkings'.
INIGO, weakly: It was just a throwaway in-joke for the thread.
CHIHIRO: I'm more interested in who else he took out.
INIGO, sitting up: Don't tell me you're planning to go after him.
CHIHIRO: What? No. I'm just trying to figure out what effect Hiro's device had on him.

It is at this point that MASANORI KITAMURA, better known as HIJACK, walks into the room. The entire class freezes up, then scatters back to their desks. Operating on autopilot, HOGE orders everyone to rise and greet their teacher. HIJACK waits for them to be seated before speaking.

HIJACK: Good morning. You may have noticed that I'm not Rosethorn. That's because she's currently taking a short break in view of, ah, recent events. I'll be filling in for her for the time being.

He waits for the requisite murmurs and gasps to fill the room, then quiets them with a wave of his hand.

HIJACK: You can gossip about her later. For now, I'd like you to take out your textbooks. Turn to page 243.

CUT TO: The interior of the Thanks-a-Latte café. The bell over the door dings as NOAH ABRAMS and SALLY MCCATHY walk through the door, pausing at the sight of YUI behind the counter.

NOAH, teasing: Someone's adjusting well.
YUI: Oh, come on. I need the money.

She tries halfheartedly to flip the conversation on them.

YUI: How about you? This a date or something?
SALLY: Oh, uh -
NOAH, quickly: Just friends grabbing some coffee together. I'll have an espresso.
SALLY: Woah, really?
NOAH: Yes, really.
SALLY: I'll get the same.
YUI: Damn, okay.

She heads for the machine as the couple proceeds to a nearby table. The television above the bar buzzes as it switches to a news segment.

NEWSREADER: The hunt for the rogue Shiketsu student, Sandatsu Owari, has entered a new stage following the apprehension of his associate, the deranged mutant Drekus -

The television shuts off abruptly. SALLY and NOAH turn, wide-eyed, to HELEN LYSINGEN, who raises an eyebrow at them as she sets the remote control down.

HELENE: Waste of electricity. And money. Don't know why I bought it. Probably shouldn't have.

She disappears into the back as YUI drops off their coffee. NOAH takes a sip and winces. So does SALLY.

SALLY: Are you sure about this?
NOAH: My taste-buds haven't adjusted yet. That's all.
SALLY: Sure.

They drink in silence for a while.

SALLY: Did they ask you any particularly, uh, probing questions?
NOAH: No. Didn't even pull out the mind-readers. I think they're assuming that Sandatsu acted alone.
SALLY: He did act alone. All the evidence points to him acting alone. I think they definitely grilled Hifumi, Bobby and Inigo harder than us, though.
NOAH: I hope they didn't leak anything.
SALLY: If they had, we probably wouldn't be here.

The conversation hits a lull before SALLY speaks up again.

SALLY: How's your parents?
NOAH: Fine. I don't think they suspect anything.
SALLY: Same here. Though I think it's more understandable for me, since I've been away from home for six months. A lot can happen in six months.
NOAH: Yeah. Hopefully we're not stuck here for six more months, eh?
SALLY: Yeah.

CUT TO: An unfamiliar ramen shop somewhere else in Kyoto. JUGO, SHINKAN and SORA are seated at a table in the back, slurping down ramen. SHINKAN is the first to finish; the camera pulls back to reveal that this is his third bowl. Smacking his lips, he leans back and pats his stomach.

SHINKAN: Damn, this is good.

SORA nods. Without his hood, he is a surprisingly ordinary-looking Japanese boy, utterly average in appearance.

SORA: This could be a lot worse.
JUGO, joking-but-not-joking: Yeah. You could be poor, for one.
SORA: Oh, shit, yeah. Thanks for the treat, Shinkan.
SHINKAN: Don't worry about it.

They sit in silence for a while, sipping from their respective cups of green tea.

JUGO: You ever wonder what the others are doing?
SORA: Sure. But I figure I've got enough shit on my plate right now.
SHINKAN: We're the build-droppers, man. We posted our builds and fucked off, and now we're just along for the ride.
SORA: I didn't put as much thought into the setting as, say, Inigo or Chris. It shows.
JUGO, with interest: Really? How?
SORA: My father's a salaryman. My mother's a housewife. I'm an only child. It's weird, actually. My room looks exactly the same as it did when I was sixteen in the real world, except everything's in Japanese. It's the most colourful room in the house.
SHINKAN: And how are your parents? As parents?
SORA: It's the most generic shit. I asked them how their day was last night and my father started talking about, like, derivatives. I don't even think they've noticed that I'm, like, not their son.
SHINKAN: My family only talks about who they fought with today. I think my brother got into a shoving match with a pillar yesterday and didn't realize it.

CUT TO: HIFUMI's face. His eyes are closed. Slowly, his eyelids flutter and he sits up with a groan. He is lying on his own bed, in his own room, and CHRIS is sitting at his bedside, bouncing his knee distractedly. As HIFUMI pinches the bridge of his nose, coming to grips with the mother of all headaches, CHRIS leans forward intently.

HIFUMI, still groaning: What happened?
CHRIS: Oh, good, you're awake. What do you remember?
HIFUMI: What do I remember?

His eyes widen.

HIFUMI: Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Sandatsu killed someone?!
CHRIS, soothing: Take it easy, man, take it easy.
HIFUMI: What the hell, man?!

The door to his bedroom opens. His sister, MINA, pokes her head in, startled.

MINA: Everything okay?
CHRIS: Uh, yes?
HIFUMI: No! Sandatsu killed someone?!

It takes some doing, but the two boys eventually leave (or are made to leave) HIFUMI's house. They end up at a nearby playground. Seated opposite one another on a random bench, HIFUMI painstakingly processes the events of the past month and finally cools down enough to ask some actual questions.

HIFUMI: I've done a lot of weird stuff over the past month, haven't I?
CHRIS: Yep.
HIFUMI: Was I brainwashed?
CHRIS: No.
HIFUMI: What language was that?
CHRIS: Polish.
HIFUMI: Who's Haerin?
CHRIS, sucking his teeth: This is, uh… well…
HIFUMI, more insistently: What was I doing in therapy?
CHRIS: Okay, I didn't want to do this, but I don't think I have a choice.

CUT TO: A palatial penthouse. HIFUMI is sitting on the couch, flanked by MINNIE, HAILEY, FAITH, MAX and EDIE. CHRIS is behind, quaffing liberally from a tumbler of brandy. HOGE, BOBBY, IMAI, KAYLEE and CHIHIRO are all spectating, although one or two of them do occasionally glance over their shoulders to glare at CHRIS, who just hunches his shoulders and takes another sip from his tumbler.

HIFUMI, slowly: Okay. So, from the top again…
HAILEY: You're a fictional character. You were created by a depressed Polish man.
HIFUMI: I don't get it. How does Mongolian basket weaving come into this?

EDIE waves a hand irritably.

EDIE: It's - It's a figure of speech. Just think of it as a random, generic forum. People pretending to be other people. For fun.
HIFUMI: Okay. So, essentially, my whole life was designed by a depressed Polish man, and one month ago, he got, uh, i-se-kai'd into my body.
FAITH: His memories got dropped into your body. With that additional context, you essentially became him.
HIFUMI: The addition of his memories turned me into him.
KAYLEE: Basically.
HIFUMI: And the same thing happened to the rest of 1-D. Hence, Sandatsu.
BOBBY: He was going to do it anyway. That was how the plot was supposed to go.

HIFUMI takes a deep breath, very deliberately ignoring the implications of that statement, and turns to HAILEY.

HIFUMI: And you - Hay, Minnie, and the rest - you were all created by the same guy, and now he's been copied into all of your bodies?
HAILEY: Er, surprise?
HIFUMI: Are you still Hay?
HAILEY: Yes. I just have more, uh, depth.
HIFUMI: Then why didn't the other Hifumi stick around? Is he gone forever?

CHRIS clears his throat.

CHRIS: Not gone forever.

He holds up a thumbdrive.

CHRIS: I could return you his memories, but he was quite adamant.
HIFUMI: Those are my memories.
HOGE: It was really hard on him, just so you know. The pressure of trying to be someone whom he thought he wasn't.
HIFUMI: But he is me. And I am him. Couldn't you just get Hiro to, I don't know, cook up some anti-depressants? Or something?
CHIHIRO: We were doing our best to get him to stay, but -
HIFUMI, stonily: Heroes don't give up.

CUT TO: INIGO's face. He has a large shiner on his left eye, and there are numerous cuts and contusions dotting his face. The camera pulls back to reveal that he is resting on an extremely cushy mattress, complete with fluffy blankets and actual bedposts. He opens his eyes slowly and smiles, revealing that he is missing two teeth.

INIGO, hoarsely: I must've died and gone to heaven.

HOGE shoves him. Hard.

HOGE: Retard.
INIGO: Let me live in fantasy for a while more, c'mon.
HOGE, grimacing: Baka.
INIGO: That's more like it.

With a grunt, he heaves himself upright and looks around in wonderment. He's in a luxurious bedroom. A thick wall of greenery is distantly visible out the window; it's a very private and very large compound. HOGE helps him to his feet as he limps forward to get a closer look. His green dragon, Gigan, swoops over and alights on his shoulder, coaxing a hiss of pain from INIGO's cracked, still-slightly-bloody lips.

INIGO, wonderingly: Where am I?
HOGE: Shinkan's house.
INIGO: Woah. I've never been to Shinkan's house before.
HOGE: It was this or Hailey's, and they're preoccupied with… other matters.

INIGO turns and realizes that his bed-sheets are decorated with what appear to be tiny, anthropomorphic trains.

INIGO: Yup, it's Shinkan's house all right.
HOGE: Where were you?
INIGO: Taking over the Dai-Ichi Ikkai family. They won't be a problem anymore.
HOGE: Why now?
INIGO: Because Nurse Becky's getting skittish. And I want to keep her on our side, if only because it might keep pregfag sweet.

He narrows his eyes.

INIGO: Oh, it looks like pregfag's writing this time. I wonder why he didn't cover the part where I beat the crap out of my entire family. Maybe I didn't provide enough details. Eh, just as well.
HOGE: You've been talking to Jugo too much.

She changes the subject.

HOGE: And your last thought before totally losing consciousness was to tell your men to drop you off outside my dorm?
INIGO: Junichi wouldn't understand.
UNKNOWN: Like fuck I wouldn't.

INIGO turns, clocks JUNICHI TAKAGI from where he's leaning against the door-frame, and grins.

INIGO: It's good to see you, bro.
JUNICHI: Nice place your friend's got.
INIGO: I know, right? I'd shake your hand, but…
JUNICHI: Yeah, Curie said your hand was still healing. Both hands.

He steps forward, unsmiling. INIGO's smile falters. HOGE stiffens.

JUNICHI: Something's going on, Inigo, and I'm going to get to the bottom of it. Your girlfriend won't tell me what's going on, but you will. Or else.

CUT TO: ASHLEIGH's bedroom. She, JUGO, OROCHI and IMAI are sitting cross-legged on the floor, playing a game of bridge. One of OROCHI's tails hisses at IMAI, causing him to inch away.

IMAI: Please don't do that.
OROCHI: I can't control them. Sorry.
JUGO: So, I've been talking to Inigo.
ASHLEIGH, under her breath: Oh, no.
JUGO: And I think that the pregfag is writing right now. As opposed to yesterday.
OROCHI, curious despite herself: How can you tell?

JUGO shrugs.

JUGO: I don't know. It's just a feeling. Inigo was talking about dialogue and writing styles. Conversations, vibes, soundtracks.
ASHLEIGH: It's been several weeks since we arrived. He can't have written all of that out. Twenty-four separate viewpoints, several dozen days? No way. I think you're just coping.
OROCHI: You're just salty because he impregnated you with quadruplets in MHA 1.9.
IMAI: Technically, that was me.
ASHLEIGH: Can we just continue playing?

JUGO looks straight up at the ceiling and winks. Hard.

JUGO: My suspicions have been confirmed. Please give him some (you)s, thread.
IMAI, exasperated: It's your turn, Jugo.