"Sweetheart, you didn't have to make lunch just for me," Sayomi said as she finished ironing her uniform.  "You could have just slept in."<br/><br/>"I did a little," Masato said, smiling as he finished boxing up her bento in his pajamas.  "Besides, I'd feel terrible if I didn't at least do this seeing as how you're working today and I'm not even going to school."<br/><br/>Sayomi gave him a peck on the cheek just before putting away the ironing board.  As she put on her apron, she asked, "Did they say why they were closing the school today?  Is something wrong?"<br/><br/>Masato had hoped that he wouldn't have to answer this question -- he could never lie to his mother very well and she knew it.  Still, he didn't want to worry her with the news of further disappearances.  "I don't know the exact details," he said, which was somewhat true and he honestly didn't know what the teachers were thinking most of the time.  "But I doubt it was that big because they let us finish the rest of yesterday's classes."<br/><br/>"Hm.  You know, I think I heard that they were planning to overhaul the ventilation system.  Maybe they're finally starting that up?" Sayomi shrugged, taking the bento from Masato and hugging him as much as she could wrap her arms around her massive son.  "Well, you take care today, okay?"<br/><br/>"I will, mom.  Remember to call me if your schedule changes or you something else comes up."<br/><br/>"Fine, fine," she replied, rolling her eyes with a smile.  "Love you!"  She waved before bounding down the steps of the apartment complex.<br/><br/>"Love you too," Masato muttered mostly to himself, waving even though she could no longer see him.  Ever since yesterday, his concern for his mother had increased dramatically.  He had no intention of staying out too late today as the thought of leaving her alone at night did not sit well with him at all.  Even knowing how things were before, he wished he could just turn back the clock twenty-four hours and make it so that none of the weirdness had ever happened.<br/><br/>Sighing, he went back to his room and searched through his drawers for appropriate attire for meeting classmates after school -- something he was dreadfully unfamiliar with.  Other than his school uniform, he only had the things he wore when working for Boss Shikijima and he was fairly sure that none of them would appreciate a Yakuza hanging around.  Unfortunately, he owned very little in the way of casual wear and the only thing that appeared to fit him now were his cargo pants and a huge t-shirt with Doraemon on it.<br/><br/>"Where the hell did this even come from?!" he asked to no one in particular as he marveled at its cheesiness.  Sadly, anything else would either rip in half if he so much as raised his arm to point at something or was even less appropriate.  Grumbling, he donned the shirt and prepared to head out.  As he laced his boots at the entrance, he eyed his bokken, leaned against the corner.  If he brought it along, he'd probably still give off the same impression as if he were dressed like a gangster, but after the events of the previous night, he felt a little better having it on hand.  Grabbing the wooden sword and slinging it over his shoulder, he locked up the apartment and proceeded to meet with his classmates.