Akira doesn't really notice the first time it happens. He must be about six, awakens one morning shivering and uneasy, a feeling which hangs over his head, his own personal rain cloud that marks his every turn.
It's not his parents that notice. He should have seen the signs, can do so years later, as even then the simplest of moments skirt by them. It's a teacher, one who wonders why the child who is usually so attentive and surrounded by others says nothing all day.
"I had a bad dream," he says, because dreams are bad and good, the same as days and flavours of ice cream.
But this teacher listens, a rarity in his life. "How bad?" she asks, bending down to sit before him on the carpet.
"Very bad," he says, and because of that, she tells him about soulmates.
It seems strange that the universe would curse people with the possibility of meeting a soulmate through nightmares. For most, it's by way of dreams or some kind of connection during slumber, but fate has always liked to make a mockery of Akira, and thus gives him the reverse.
His mind recognises his soulmate through shared bad dreams. And they're not just bad, they're terrifying.
He runs home and refuses to sleep, his parents angry the school even suggested such a thing, probably as a child who refused to sleep interfered far too much with their own existence. But they take him to a doctor soon after that, and it's confirmed he is one of the few with such a power.
Soulmates aren't even guaranteed; in fact Akira is more likely to not have one than to be able to do this. The doctor even tells him he's lucky, which means absolutely nothing when his parents are annoyed and his mind is still filled with shadows.
It turns out, that actually it's a lot less scary than he images for the first few years. Akira tends not to remember what exactly happens in these nightmares. There's the occasional screaming, waking up in tears, but his parents discover after consultation this is normal for children, and are therefore no longer worried. They signed up for normal, this they can cope with.
Akira feels a lot though. Feels like his heart is wrenched from his chest, everything somewhat dimmer, somewhat heavier the day after he connects with his soulmate. He doesn't really have an outlet for that. He can't stick a colourful band-aid over a nightmare, can't share his toys with his soulmate to make them smile, and those are the only ways he knows to cope with sadness.
It takes a while, but he's nine when the first true night of terror occurs. Akira is acutely aware he's dreaming when his eyes open, and he sits up fully from where he is on the ground. It's cold, and he shivers, looking around at the grey space, which swirls with ice like fog from rainy days. He looks around, but he can't see much, so gets up, clutching himself tightly.
He walks, not that he can really see his own body to know that's what he's doing, everything unreal and faded without actual substance. But as he travels through, he hears crying. Akira's heard a lot of crying; he's on the baseball team and his friends have fallen over, got hit by stray balls and lost games enough that he has heard many people cry. But this isn't like that. This is different. This is crying deep and tortured, so much that Akira's own chest starts to ache.
I need to find them , he thinks, perhaps even says, the absolute want to help with whatever is happening the sharpest emotion he's ever felt.
And all at once, the mist clears.
There, sitting with his back to him, is a person. There's a wall in front of them, and they're shadowed, the same grayscale as everything else that means he cannot really tell features. They look small, perhaps smaller than him, curled up and sobbing as if the world has truly ended.
"Are you hurt?"
Akira's voice rings out, and the crying stops, an echo of a final gasp meeting his ears. The world stills and slowly, the figure on the floor turns, shadows forming around it as Akira's heart speeds up. A dark face greets him, bright red eyes burning as the only features, and he's screaming even before he wakes up in bed.
It's unnerving, keeps him from falling asleep for days, but it does teach him something: he can control the nightmares.
Or perhaps not control, but influence them in some way. He'd wanted to find the...thing crying and he did, instantly. Was it his soulmate? Akira isn't sure, it hadn't looked enough like a person to be able to tell, and the way it stared at him isn't something he likes to recall.
But the fact he does seem to have some kind of power over that sleep-scape does help. As, once he starts getting older, he finds he has less and less control over everything else. Akira doesn't really like school; it's fine, and he does just better than average, but it's tedious and unfair. The teachers have clear favourites, the other students form cliques that exclude and threaten others.
Akira walks a strange line of being generally liked by everyone, but equally not truly having friends. He's never picked last, but never first, never had a fight but never fans. Most of the time he stays quiet and unseen, feeling as if he's not truly real, watching everyone live.
His parents are hardly home, completely absorbed in their own lives, separate from him and it seems, one another. They check his grades, check his health but otherwise leave him alone. Nothing really bothers him, but nothing interests him either. Except for his soulmate.
Akira does a lot of investigating as he turns into teenagehood, wondering if others have a similar story. He doesn't find many references to the phenomenon he experiences, but does see that many people can also control their dreams, albeit in their cases to take their soulmate on elaborate dates and nice things.
What they all have in common though, is they can never truly see their soulmate. There's a story of a couple who were neighbours for five years, passing every day, greeting one another and not working out they were soulmates. It also seems that the bond is rather intrusive, so many people having encounters with them while in strange and occasionally personal dreams.
Which is oddly, how Akira meets his soulmate properly for the first time.
Again, he knows he's dreaming. He's at home, and his mother is cooking, his father reading the newspaper. A typical scene from any day. Except there's blood running out of his mouth. At first, Akira tells himself it's not real, but the blood keeps coming, building and pooling until his hands are covered in it.
"Mum...mum!" he yells, but she keeps cooking, doesn't move.
"Mummy, mum it won't stop!" he screams, although he hasn't used that term for her in years, desperate to get help, only for her to move to the other side of the room as if she'd never heard.
Akira stumbles over to his father. "Dad. Dad, I'm bleeding, it won't stop, please," he says, feeling himself tear up, but his father just turns the page of the newspaper.
"Oh, so your dad is shit too."
Akira turns, hiccupping as blood pours from between his hands where he's clasped them over his mouth. Across the room, sitting at the table is a boy. He's wearing a mask, huge and red with a pointed nose, and tips his head a little to see Akira through it properly. He has on an oversized outfit that looks like a costume and is...weird in the setting, and Akira wonders what he must look like in return.
"No, he's not...shit," Akira says, stumbling a little over the swear.
"You're dying and they don't care," the boy says, with little inflection, and Akira feels anger rise.
"They do care, this isn't real," he says, crossing his arms and hoping that if he wishes this true, he'll stop worrying over it while he sleeps.
The other boy says nothing, and Akira realises he's stopped bleeding. He swallows, removing his hands and slowly walks forward.
"You're my soulmate," he says, curiosity outweighing the fear as he draws close.
The other boy scoffs. "That's why I'm here. Can you wake up now? I want to go home," he says, except the last part doesn't sound so sure.
Close up, Akira can see he's wearing a sort of uniform, white with lots of red and gold, but slightly ill fitting. It looks nice though, colourful and important, like a prince in a cartoon. Akira hopes he looks as cool in his soulmate's own mind.
"You don't like your dad?" he asks, going back to the old train of thought and joining his soulmate in sitting at the table.
He looks at Akira, eyes that brilliant red through the mask, almost matching in tone. It had been him then who was crying in that first trip of nightmares, and it makes Akira drag his chair closer.
His soulmate looks down at the table, that bravado from before gone, and Akira waits for him to talk.
"I hate my dad," he says, soft but blade sharp, and Akira shivers.
"Then...why do you want to go home?" he asks.
"Oh, I don't live with my dad. But that doesn't mean I want to be stuck with your terrible parents either," he says, looking around at the scene which has not changed.
"They're not terrible, just busy," Akira says, rehearsed and practiced as to why his parents miss many things in his life.
The other boy gives him a look but doesn't comment, both of them letting the lie sit between them. Akira doesn't really know what to do now; he has so many questions and yet none seem quite right, and it seems his soulmate feels the same as the silence continues.
Suddenly, his throat itches, and he inhales shakily, but not enough to stop himself cough, heaving onto the table, stomach in agony as he vomits up blood. He remembers now, what this is like; that time he had food poisoning, was convinced he was dying, and his parents didn't even notice until they saw the stains on the bathroom the next day.
He sobs once, as the other boy scrambles down, running to his side.
"This isn't real, come on, wake up," he says, sounding urgent, and Akira's head hurts.
"Why do...they never see?" he asks, staring at red red eyes, which widen but do not give answers, the last glow of colour Akira sees before everything fades into the mists.
After that, he seems rather pathetic. No one really knows what it's like at home, and he feels like an idiot for having it seep into his nightmares, baring all for his soulmate. He doesn't even have a bad life; he has clothes, food, a computer and never truly wants for anything. He knows others with worse life situations and shouldn't be complaining when he's so lucky.
Yet it hurts, and he cannot change that feeling. He tries a variety of methods to gain his parents' approval, or even interest. Different clubs, different books, movies, life goals; none of them gain any more than a few fleeting comments before he dissolves into the background of their lives once more.
He doesn't have long before he gets to meet his soulmate again. A few months pass this time and he awakens in the dark, but knows he is somewhere other than reality. It's just as shadowy as ever, but with a faint red light to it, highlighting that Akira is in a very small, very dark space.
A bang sounds and he jumps, spinning to the left and facing one side of the space, blocked off in the same way as the others. Another boom sounds, as if someone is attempting to ram their way inside, and Akira steps back, steadying himself. He ignores the sound, which carries on at various intervals, and instead turns to see the rest of the area. He's almost certain this is not his nightmare, so frantically begins peering through the gloom to find his soulmate.
Despite the small space, it takes him a few sweeps before he locates him, hunches up in a corner, and Akira jogs over as the pounding sound marks his steps. As he does, the red masks tips up again, his body flinching away momentarily before he relaxes.
"It's just you, great. Get lost," he says, and Akira grimaces, sitting down in front of him.
"I can't really control this you know. Or at least, not as much as I want to," he says, and the boy laughs, bitter and painful.
"You would manage to come at one of the worst points though," he says, and the next bang is louder, making them both jump.
Akira swallows. He's not an idiot, but it breaks his heart to experience this. "Did they lock you in here or did you hide?" he asks.
His soulmate doesn't seem surprised he worked it out. "A bit of both, depending on the day. I think this one is when those fuckers locked me in the garden shed. The door was metal, it echoed like this," he says, hissing a little at what Akira can now tell is shoes kicked hard on metal.
"Who are they?" Akira says, loudly over the din as the gaps between them become shorter.
"Other kids in the home. I don't live in this one anymore, but-" he's cut off as the kicks become endless the room almost shaking with it.
Akira can see the boy in front of him shaking, eyes darting around as if waiting for the walls to collapse. He's not sure how this ended in reality, but Akira really doesn't want to find out, and on impulse reaches out and covers his soulmate's ears.
Their eyes meet. Akira hopes he's being comforting and not overstepping, so brushes his thumbs across the boy's neck in a way he hopes is soothing. He can't see he has much experience of helping calm someone like this, but he remembers the way he'd been distracted in his own nightmare enough to stop the bleeding. He smiles, suddenly feeling a little awkward, but as soon as he does, the noise stops. Akira's eyes widen and his smile grows, a warm feeling settling in his chest that he'd been able to calm his soulmate.
Slowly he lowers his hands, and settles back down. His soulmate looks at him once, then sits up a bit, straightening up against the wall.
"Thank you," he says, quiet and different than any other tone Akira's heard from him.
Akira nods, still smiling, and they settle into silence once again until Akira fidgets and sighs.
"What's your name?" he says finally, wanting to at least call him something since they are fated to wind up in each other's minds.
"Crow," the other says, then blinks as if he hadn't actually tried to say that. Akira frowns, but Crow shakes his head and leans forward.
"And you?" he says.
"Joker," Akira replies, then feels his mouth fall open, seeing as that's not what he'd tried to say.
Crow laughs softly. "I suppose we can't use real names here," he says, moving to sit with his legs crossed in front of Akira, their knees touching like they're so much younger than they are.
"Makes it hard to work out how to meet you," Akira says, and Crow scoffs.
"Would you really want to? You can see into my nightmares, why would you want to meet me in reality?" he says.
"Why would I not?" Akira asks, a genuine question. Sure, he doesn't know Crow well, but Crow's seen more of him than anyone else, and in his own way been an anchor, even if each meeting is slightly terrifying.
Crow clearly doesn't know what to do with that admittance though, and Akira feels a little silly for admitting it.
"I mean, you've seen my nightmares too, which are worse. I coughed up blood over you," he says.
"Near me, not over me. And mine are worse, look around you," he says, gesturing up at the extremely small space.
"It's not that bad," Akira counters, and Crow leans forward, clearly about to argue, when an almighty slam starts up again.
They both yell and reach for one another, hands gripping so swiftly Akira cannot tell who reached out first. The noise builds until light shatters through the space, and Akira screams as he wakes up in bed, one hand held to his heart.
He groans, flopping back down onto his pillows. While he'd been trying to get a rise out of Crow at the time, he's not sure now which of their nightmares had been worse. It worries him though, whatever's been happening to his soulmate. His response to this nightmare would indicate he was or is in a children's home, which would mean he's an orphan. Akira curls on his side, the hand he'd reached out for Crow spread before him.
He has to find a way to connect with his soulmate. He just has to.
Despite Akira's motivation, it's hard to get to know someone in flashes of bad dreams where they can't have normal conversations. They've both tried saying where they live, their schools and their names again but nothing works. Plus, each time they meet, it's always in a situation they want to retreat from.
There's a dream from Akira of being covered in thin strips of coloured paper, where people walk past and take one, each time they do his body fading from existence. Crow ends up pushing each one out of the way, and telling Akira with a fond but loud voice to pick up everything he dropped, swirling paper all around. There's one from Crow of a series of shadow figures laughing maniacally in a circle, that Akira had ended by grabbing his hand and running through them to an escape.
Then, there were a few normal nightmares which neither could work out who they belonged to. Taking exams and failing, all their teeth dropping out, creepy things from movies they'd both seen. Those were the easiest, and the ones where they could learn slightly more about one another.
Crow is, as he assumed, an orphan, and his mother had died when he was very little, Akira sure the first nightmare occurred in the aftermath. His father he only knows the name of, and Akira has a feeling Crow fosters some deep seated need for retribution for how his mother's life shaped out.
He gets impressions more than serious facts. He feels Crow is as lonely as him but for different reasons, and possibly just as at a loss. He has more drive than Akira does, but there's something unfocussed and teetering about it. There's a tiredness that persists in all he does as they get older, and the more they strive through nightmares together, the closer Crow walks to him. A closeness, or a want for such that Akira understands although he cannot put into words.
Then, when Akira is sixteen, comes the night that changes everything.
He's surprised how long it takes to have a nightmare, seeing as his brain is probably too stressed and anxious to fall asleep in the weeks leading up to his court date. Of course Akira has the worst luck in the world and would manage to trip a drunk local politician, with enough clout in their sleepy town to cause problems, but not enough to cause true, permanent damage. Akira is sure, should his influence have been greater, he'd be spending his time in juvenile detention, so being sent away with an infraction on his record should be seen as a relief.
Which of course it is not. His parents, for the first time ever in his life, finally snap to attention and decide to pull out the list of reasons why Akira is not good enough, sending him to live with a person they've never mentioned before, and attend a school where he knows no one, where he's certain his reputation will precede him.
It's not prison, but it's a different kind of trap, all at the whims of an adult who had a little too much power and the need to hide their own indiscretions. Akira is angry and hurt, at the people in his life who didn't support him, at the world for letting this happen, at himself for trying to help a stranger when he should have just called for help.
So when he wakes up in the dream world the night before travelling to his new home in a prison cell, he's not that surprised.
If he were feeling less hopeless, he'd almost be impressed at his own imagination. The bed he sits up on is as hard as rock, bars thick and cold, the space so small a fog rolls in from the room beyond, shaded in deep blue, figures curling and twisting without true form.
"Joker!"
He hears Crow calling, distance and echoing, but he doesn't bother answering. He's got a criminal record, been rejected by his parents and sent miles away to the city. Who would want to associate with him?
"Joker! Jo- fuck, there you are," Crow says, and suddenly there's a pair of white gloves stark against the bars.
Akira can't look at him though, can't bear it for the first few minutes. But Crow doesn't leave, doesn't say anything as the shadows curl and the room grows colder. He shivers once, then looks up, sees his soulmate sitting on the ground, still gripping on the bars, looking for the first time, truly afraid.
"Joker, what is this?" he asks, and despite himself, Akira shuffles forward a little.
"What does it look like?" he says, and Crow's eyes narrow behind the mask, but for once he doesn't let his anger unleash. Instead he stays quiet, uncharacteristic and focuses on Akira for once to be the one to lead the conversation.
"I don't know...how to get out," he says, the only way to express exactly what's been running through his mind the past few days.
"You fight," Crow says without pause, making Akira smile even as his heart drops.
"Can't fight someone who used their power to fuck up my life," he says, and Crow's hands grip the bars tighter, pulling him closer.
"Yes, you can. And we will. Fuck all of them and their abuse of power, the way they control us, we'll get them," he says, and part of Akira's own concerns slip away at the unsaid.
He feels kinship with those words, but part of the tone concerns him. Akira's not bent on revenge, he just wants to make sure this doesn't happen again; and try and piece together his own life in a way that means this won't ruin his whole life from now on.
The prospect makes his chest tight, even in this dream world.
"Joker, snap out of it, now's not the time to give up!" Crow says, and Akira blinks, for a second the shadows thicken, and that is what gets him driving forward, gripping the bars and covering Crow's hands with his own.
Akira swallows, heart pounding. "Okay. But...it seems pretty impossible, where I am," he says, the momentary concern gone as Crow's form remains solid and bright.
Crow smiles. "It always does. But...you've faced so many nightmares already. And you're still here," he says.
"We're still here," he adds, and Crow laughs.
"I am somewhat intrigued by my soulmate being a criminal," he says, and although the sentiment from anyone else would make Akira bristle, it doesn't from him.
"Why, do you like it?" he adds, not really thinking, and is rewarded with a strangled choked sound that makes Akira's mind spin.
He hasn't thought in depth of what they're relationship might be. He's drawn to Crow, wants desperately to find him, but they spend more of their time working through and often physically battle nightmares side by side. It gives little time to ponder much else. But he knows those eyes burn in his dreams, thinks of that biting wit, that challenge, and it does spark a fuse within.
"I'm not actually a criminal," he adds, thinking he should probably confirm that.
"I know. You're not the type, no matter what they make you out to be," Crow says, and Akira should be ashamed at how much his chest lightens at hearing that one person in his life doesn't think he's the delinquent everyone says he is.
The bars though, do not fade, and the cold continues, Akira shivering as the world seems to dim. Unconsciously, their hands move, Akira unsure if it's he or Crow who fixes it so their fingers are slotted against each other's through the bars.
"Just...hold on. Keep fighting," Crow's voice says, urgent and a little afraid as the cold overtakes his limbs and Akira falls down.
He opens his eyes to his own room, the previous safe haven barren and empty looking, his belongings packed away already. The house feels cold, the spring air still not quite giving into warmth. Akira rolls over and buries his head in his pillow, trying to calm himself.
There is one person who cares. One person who believes him. And it happens to be the most important person too. So maybe, he can get through this.
Akira isn't sure he can do this. Sojiro is...fine. Mostly a little wary of Akira, and the attic space he lives in is comfortable if a little on the dusty side. He's met Futaba, Sojiro's adopted daughter, once and she fled soon after. Not the best introduction, but it's fine. Sojiro mentioned teaching him to help in Leblanc and it makes him feel useful, and after just over a month of being here, the emotional need for that was probably a little strong. Sojiro gave him an odd look when he teared up, anyway.
His parents decided to send him in advance of the school term starting, so Akira became familiar enough with the area in the month that passed. But it's nearing the end of his first week of school, and it's absolute hell.
Everyone knows who he is, and rumours of ridiculous crimes he didn't commit circulate. Class is awkward, his homeroom teacher seems exhausted by his presence, and he doesn't have any of the right books for the classes. Most of the students give him a wide berth, which means so far he's not asked anyone for help.
By Thursday, Akira's wondering if he should even bother coming in tomorrow, quickly marching out of the building while most of the students head to their after school activities. He's crossing the ground when a startled cry catches his attention. He turns to see a girl just about to drop what looks like a bag of soil, and without thinking, dashes forward and catches it.
"O-oh! Oh my goodness, thank you, I'm so sorry," she says, and then blinks when she meets his gaze.
He can tell by her uniform she's a third year, and he gives her a small smile before slowly depositing the soil on the ground.
"It's fine, don't worry. Do you need help?" he asks.
She looks a little surprised, and Akira is braced for the inevitable rejection when her face relaxes in relief.
"If you don't mind, that would be so helpful. I overestimated myself. And they err, need to go to the roof," she says.
Akira hoists the bag over his shoulder, the girl's eyes widening. "Sorry, I don't know where the roof is," he says, and she quickly leads the way through the school, Akira thankful the corridors are now empty.
He's surprised to find the school roof has a small garden; Shujin doesn't strike him as a place open to having such things, but he dutifully unloads the soil where the girl asks.
"Thank you so much. Oh, I'm Haru Okumara, president of the gardening club. You must be the new student in the second year," she says.
Akira nods once, trying to keep his expression neutral. "Akira Kurursu," he says.
"Nice to meet you. How are you finding school so far?" she says.
Akira really should lie, but it's been a brutal few days and some of his composure cracks. It must show on his face, for her look turns concerned, and he scrambles for an answer.
"It's fine, I'm just missing a few books. Trying to catch up," he says, and she frowns.
"Who's your homeroom teacher? Oh! You're in Ann's class, I'll ask her to help you out. She won't mind, she spent last semester abroad, she knows what it's like coming back and feeling lost," she says, quickly pulling out her phone.
Somehow, by the time he gets home, Haru has arranged for him to meet someone called Ann in front of the library before school, and thinks he's joined the gardening club. He's a little wary it may be a dream, but as he enters the school the next day, a girl with blonde hair he vaguely recognises from class waves to him.
"Hi, you're Kurusu, right? You sit in front of me, I'm so sorry I didn't realise you didn't have the books, we could have shared," she says.
Akira nods, a little amazed by how friendly she is considering the reception he's had so far, when a boy he hadn't noticed slides up next to her.
"Ahh, man, you should hear the rumours about you in my class. Someone said you're an escaped serial killer," he says, laughing, and Akira's anxiety spikes, only Ann elbows him hard in the ribs.
"Shut up, Ryuji. Seriously, don't worry about rumours. People here are idiots, we've had enough about us," she says, rolling her eyes, as Ryuji regains himself and stands.
"Yeah, don't worry. Gossip is a thing here, they'll lose interest once something more interesting happens," he says as Ann opens the library doors.
"Akechi's addressing assembly today. That will help," she says, and Akira is too overwhelmed to ask many questions as the two seem to immediately adopt him into their little group.
He notices as they make their way to assembly, Akira now with the right text books for his classes, that he seems to get less stares his way when accompanied by the other two. Ann waves at a few girls in their class, while Ryuji starts peppering him with questions.
"Did Haru get you to join the gardening club? It's actually fun, and better than most of the other clubs. I used to be on the track team before I got injured, and Ann works so it's nice to have a casual club. Haru does get kinda mad though…" he says, and Akira just loses himself in the words, amazed at how much things have changed so swiftly.
They file in and there's a strange energy to the room that Akira didn't notice on Monday, and Ryuji groans.
"It's been a week, is everyone gonna get like this when Akechi speaks? He's not that hot," he mutters.
Ann laughs. "You're in the minority there. I get it, even if I don't feel it," she says with a shrug.
"What's going on?" Akira asks, and Ann grins.
"The student council Vice President is speaking today. Makoto, she's the president, makes him do it because firstly he hates it and it's kind of funny, and secondly the entire school thinks he's cute so they actually do as he says," she replies.
"Except you two," Akira says and they both grin.
"I am immune to men, no matter how cute. But he seriously is cute, Ryuji's just jealous," she adds.
Ryuji looks two seconds away from protesting extremely loudly, but thankfully the principal shuffles onstage, preventing the imminent explosion. Akira dutifully listens to the day's announcements, until the principal leaves the stage, and a third year takes his place.
This must be Akechi, and Akira immediately understands.
He is extremely attractive. He smiles, and there seems to be a collective sigh from the audience, although to Akira it seems like the sort of smile he's practiced in front of the mirror, no smile is that even. His hair just hits his shoulders in an uneven cut, and he carefully tucks one piece behind his ear with a gloved hand, and Akira has to swallow hard.
The whole audience is enraptured, and at least for Akira, it is not just how he looks. His voice hums through him, his presence is clearly cultivated to public speaking, and there's just something about him which keeps Akira gazing and listening.
"Would you like to sign up to the fanclub?" Ann whispers as Akechi steps off stage, and he gives her a look which makes her laugh.
"Urg, he's so smug. Annoying, how are you friends with him?" Ryuji mutters, and Ann rolls her eyes.
"He's not that bad. Well, okay he is kind of an asshole, but he's not awful. Anyway, we should go to class," she says, and Ryuji waves them goodbye, shuffling off to his own lessons.
With Ann and Ryuji, the day is much easier. Even from this short time, he can tell they're sort of misfits in their own way, a little apart from everyone else. They're pretty open about it, both missing school for different reasons in their first year, and seemingly banding together with Haru and Makoto to make a group of friends out of those who don't really fit in with others.