My Family Might Have a Chance.

"Disinfectant for the utensils on station 3! Station 2 wants a color and a trim! Station 1, just the cut!"

"I'm on number 4!"

"Nakano, can you get the wash from station 5?"

"Yes, Senpai! On it!"

"Miyamura, one wash, cut, and style for you!"

"Got it!"

The inside of the salon is a madhouse. It's a small building that's clearly not made to fit more than two people at a time, let alone fifteen. The assistants from Noble are bumping into each other as they rush back and forth, grabbing whatever scissors and blades that they need to service the next customer. In between ringing up customers, I sneak a quick glimpse outside- the Student Council is busy handing over merchandise at the Lara pop-up stand outside, and there's a ton of well-dressed young women waiting near the doors to the store. Every few seconds, as Mom and the assistants breeze through their haircuts, another customer gets ushered to her seat and the process starts all over again.

"Four thousand plus tax, your total comes to ¥4196." My fingers fly across the buttons of our old register as the receipt prints with a deafening noise. All I've been doing is ringing up customers for the past four hours, and my fingers are already going numb. The stylists have had zero breaks. Even though they switch out, they've been on their feet since the salon opened. I have no idea how they're not passing out.

"Out of five thousand, please." The young woman I'm ringing up holds up a couple banknotes, and I quickly scramble to grab the change from the register. I hope I calculated it right. I have good grades in math, but when you're working at maximum output for hours straight, your brain tends to fog up.

"Here you are, ma'am. Please come back and see us again!" On to the next customer. No rest.

In a way, being so busy has helped me stay calm. I haven't thought about what will happen if we don't make the last bit of money that we need, because I haven't had the time to.

The assistants zip to and fro across the salon like bumblebees in a hive. That used to be my job. When it was just Mom and I, I would be the one getting her whatever she needed. But now, all I can do is press buttons on the cash register. The employees from Noble are professionals, and I'm just a teenager.

Mom looks at home. A gaggle of younger stylists swarm around her. She looks like a Buddha amidst the chaos, just meticulously cutting and washing as best she can.

"Onii-chan, swap." A sharp voice comes from beside me. I turn to see Tamaki, her bangs pulled up all the way above her forehead, frowning and panting. Her face is glistening with sweat. "I'll take the register."

"Don't they need you out there?" I turn back to the next customer in line. "With tax, the total comes out to ¥3424, ma'am. No, we don't take cards, I apologize..."

"I've had enough of that girl." Tamaki casts a side-eye toward the window, where the purple-and-silver merchandise table is still bustling. President Suzuran looks completely in her element. "Go deal with her, Onii-chan."

"I don't want to, either. Oh, sorry, ma'am. Your total for the style is ¥4040 with tax included. Thank you for visiting Salon Biwa today!"

"The haircut was great!" The young woman handing me a ten-thousand bill beams. "Thanks so much! I knew if Lara liked this place, it had to be good. Her latest Inst*gr*m with her dye-job was so cute! You know the one I'm talking about, right?"

"Sorry, ma'am, I don't use social media."

"Oh, sorry!" A look of embarrassment quickly washes over the customer's face. "I was rambling. But I loved the haircut. I'll definitely come back!"

"Here's your change, honored guest. Thank you for your patronage!" I push the change tray to the woman, who accepts it with a smile. All the customers keep saying they'll be back...but will they get the chance? I don't know. There's no opportunity for me to stop and see if we're close to the sixty-three million or not. All I can do is hope.

"Onii-chan, quit ignoring me!" Tamaki yelps.

"You're not going on cash register duty," I sigh as the next customer steps up to pay. "I'm quicker at it than you are. Your total will be ¥3424, ma'am. Tax is already included."

"Heeeeeey, Aikawa-kun. We need you outside." Another voice I wasn't looking forward to hearing. Ugh.

"Who's we?" I shoot the president a death glare, right in her smug face. With her hair pulled back by a bandana and a Lara jacket on, she actually looks somewhat like a member of the working class. Even if she's not. Or maybe she is. I don't know anymore.

She dodges my question. "There's an urgent job for you. Let your little sister take the cash register."

"I'd rather not."

"I'd hate for you to have a student handbook violation on Monday morning...wouldn't you?" She smirks.

"That's playing dirty." I hiss.

"I'm just stating facts."

"Fine." I groan as I follow the president outside. I didn't realize how just standing around would drain me so badly- I feel like I'm dragging an anvil behind me with every step I take.

It's gotten colder. A gust of wind drags some dead grass and pieces of trash down the street as I take a brief glance over the Lara merchandise table. It's fairly picked over. Only a few shirts, fans, and other pieces of plastic crap remain on the table. The tall guy with the bangs over his eyes silently hands a customer their change, while the uptight girl with the glasses arranges the last of the products on the table, taking notes on a pad of paper. Sudou, breaking down boxes, stops and gives me a wave and a smile. Tasuku is "helping" her by stomping them into smaller pieces. Or at least, he's trying to. I can't believe they managed to sell all that stuff.

The sun has disappeared behind the city skyline, and the line to get into the salon has grown shorter. Now, it numbers only about ten or so- still some stylish young women, but also some older ones (our usual clientele) and a professional-looking one in a business suit.

How late has it gotten?

"So, what do you need me to do?" If it's some stupid thing with the Lara merch, I'll walk away right now. I would throttle President Suzuran, but she'd kick my ass if I tried.

"We've got a VIP who's just arrived at the station. Yura and company just called her in. We need you to go escort her here. Are you up for the task, Aikawa-kun?" the president asks confidently.

"Sure, I guess so." I clearly have no choice. "Who is it?"

"You'll see when you get there. Look for the tall woman wearing gray."

"Okay, I guess." Another one of the president's business contacts or something, maybe. Why's it gotta be me, though? Whatever.

Our train station is fairly barebones- just a couple platforms and the ticket gates. It's not like we've got thousands of white-collar workers getting off here every morning. I quickly scan around- there's only a few people coming down the ramp, and none of them match the description. The president gave me almost zero information.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a tall, thin shape, and turn to see a woman with medium-length hair and a runway-model cool gaze, towering almost an entire head above most of the women leaving the station, and a lot of the men, too. She's wearing...a gray shawl. Whoa, she's huge. It's almost intimidating. I gulp.

Then I notice the girl next to her.

She's shorter, with an almond-shaped face, big, round eyes, but shares the same long legs and confident strut as the woman, wearing overalls, and her messy hair pulled back into a ponytail...

"Takkun!" Her eyes catch mine, and she immediately bolts right down the ramp, practically vaults over the turnstile, and comes to a stop, posing with one hand and a knee on the ground. "Shining Driver! Hyaaaah!"

And then Ayappi kicks me right in the kneepit.

"Ow!" For those of you who haven't suffered a deadleg in your life, let me just tell you that it feels like you got whacked in the shin by a baseball bat. Or an angry rhino decided to plant its horn in the back of your leg. You're going down. I can barely stay upright.

She bursts into giggles. "Gotcha! Ahahahahaha!"

I should be trying to get her back, but I'm too shocked by this development to say much. "What are you-"

"The president told me you had a surprise for me, so I hurried down here! She told me it was a big event at your family's place! Apparently Lara showed up or something..." she beams.

"Hold on. Surprise?"

"Ayame, is this him?" A shadow looms over me as a soft voice speaks. I look up to see the tall woman staring down at me. She even has a few centimeters on me. Holy crap.

"Yup! This is my best friend Takkun. You remember him from the cultural festival, right? He did the boys' makeup. And he was a really cute maid, too!"

"Aha...ha...ha..." I didn't expect to have that brought up today.

"Oh, by the way, this is my mom. She wanted to check it out, too."

"My name is Tsubaki Shiritori. Thank you a lot for taking care of Ayame...I hope you don't mind me being here, but I didn't want her traveling so far by herself..." The tall woman quickly looks away.

Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. I'm meeting her fucking parents. My head is swimming. I can barely stutter out "N-no...it's not a problem...I'm Tatsurou Aikawa, pleased to meet you..."

"Likewise." Ayame's mom's voice is so soft and gentle, it hardly fits her intimidating stature. "My daughter told me about what was going on with your family business, so I donated to the GoGiveMe. I'm sorry I couldn't give more..."

"No, thank you so much! We appreciate it!" I guess my family's business is everybody's business now. I can't even be mad. Besides, it was Ayappi who spilled the beans, and she was just trying to help me out.

"So what's going on?" Ayappi is full of energy, practically bouncing as we head back. "The president messaged me and told me to come and see what you guys had going on, because there was some limited-edition Lara co-promotion or something...I don't listen to her a lot, but her avatar's character design is done by Fuke-sensei and he's the same guy who did the designs for Cornet and Mocha and Okayo! You know, the VTubers! He used to be allowed in their M*necraft server but then a bunch of people got angry about it and they had to ban him from it..." She continues rambling about this and that as I take a second to collect my thoughts.

Damn you, Reika Suzuran. It's already been a stressful enough day. You didn't have to bring my crush here on top of everything. And her mom. I bet she thinks it's funny watching me be nervous around her.

"It's a one-day sale with a Lara co-collab..." I mutter. "Apparently this Lara person came by one day and really liked the haircut so she promoted it all over and now we're selling her merchandise and we've got a million crazy fangirls lined up outside. I have no idea how President Suzuran got this to happen, but she did. She's crazy."

"Oh, yeah, she told me that."

"You guys are still really close, huh?"

"What do you mean?"

"She told me you knew each other as kids and you ended up going to the same school. That's really impressive when you think about it. I didn't know anyone at Shinchou when I started."

"Oh yeah, we did..." Ayappi puts a finger on her chin. "When she was little, she thought she was an idol and she would give neighborhood concerts and stuff...so I called her the Patisseridol! Get it? Ahahahahahaha!" Her cute little face suddenly becomes crestfallen as she realizes that I don't get it. "Because, you know...that's what a bakery is called in French..."

"Somehow, I'm not really surprised she did that."

Ayappi turns away from me as we continue to walk on. "That's not really why she's got my LIME, though. It's more because she comes in to check on how the Manga Research Club is doing and she asks me to draw cool stuff for her and I do until the other girl comes by and drags her out of there. Or until Kakihara-senpai kicks her out. Usually I draw her for President Suzuran. She does the same thing for the track team too...she just sits in the stands and cheers. I go get her water all the time, too. She's such a good president. She actually takes the time to see how all the clubs are doing!"

"Haha, yeah..." I don't have the heart to tell her that's not what Reika Suzuran has in mind.

"Hey, President!" By the time we get back to the salon, the line is almost gone, and so is the Lara merchandise. Only a couple cheap plastic fans remain on the table, with two people looking over them. The line to the salon is completely gone. I slip my phone out of my pocket. Four fifty-five PM. In thirty-five minutes, our fate is decided. I'm still oddly calm about it.

"There's my favorite little artist!" the president squeals. "Com'ere, Ayame-chan!" She squeezes Ayappi in a hug...and I think she got a big handful of butt cheek, too. I quickly avert my gaze. I don't want them thinking I'm some kind of pervert or something. Even if Ayappi does have a really nice butt.

"Nice to see you, Shiritori-san." Sudou gives her a friendly wave.

"Hi, Class Rep! Hi, girl who's always mad at the president!" Tsukumo gives her a glare that could melt steel as Ayappi ignores it, casting her gaze on the silent boy at the money box. "Hi, Eroge Protagonist-kun!"

As this unfolds, her mother stands there awkwardly, holding her purse on her shoulder.

"How about we go inside? They're waiting for you!" the president chirps, leading Ayappi inside by the shoulders. Her mother follows, and then I do. I'm still not sure what to make of the whole scene...but I'm thankful Ayappi is here. Maybe the president really does care about me in her own twisted way.

President Suzuran ushers Ayappi over to where my mother stands waiting. By this time, only a couple old ladies are getting haircuts, along with the businesswoman I saw waiting in line earlier. The temporary help finally look like they have a moment to breathe.

"Kotobuki-san at station 3 will take you, ma'am..." Pointing out the waving stylist to Mrs. Shiritori, I finally slump down, resting on the front counter. I'm exhausted, too. I've been at work nonstop for the past seven and a half hours.

"Onii-chan..." A voice with a hint of displeasure comes from behind me. "Who's that?"

Tamaki's brow is furrowed as she glares at Ayappi.

"None of your business."

"Tatsu-niichan! Who's that girl over there?" Tasuku peeks his head around from the counter, looking at Ayappi, too?

"My classmate."

"Go away, Poop Face!" Tamaki snaps. "Go bother somebody else!"

Tasuku ignores her. "Is that your girlfriend?"

I gulp. I wish, kid. I wish.

"She better not be!" Tamaki screeches indignantly. "There's no way stupid Onii-chan is bagging a girl like that!"

"She's just a classmate."

"Told you!" Tamaki puffs out her chest triumphantly.

"I wasn't talking to you, Tama-nee!"

"It doesn't matter, snot nose!"

"Hold on, don't fight in front of the customers..." They're glaring at each other, ready to square off. "Go get the twins. They're playing ninja." Sure enough, the two five-year-olds are sneaking behind various obstacles and crawling around on the floor. They're bored.

Tasuku rushes off to go corral them, while I slump back on the counter, defeated. There's no one else coming in anymore, so I can finally breathe. Mom continues to work on Ayappi, circling her head, gently snipping and fluffing.

"Your total will be four thousand plus...huh?! FREE?! Onii-chan, what's going on-" I'm suddenly jolted awake by Tamaki's indignant voice. I turn around, and she's glaring daggers. I follow her gaze, and...

Holy shit, I didn't realize Ayappi could be that pretty.

She's cute normally, but right now, with her hair down, done perfectly, makeup applied, nails painted, the works...she's a 10/10. She looks like a princess. She's the kind of beauty that people would go to war for. I know I would.

"Cute!" Ayappi exclaims. "A real-life little sister! I bet she’s a brocon!”

Tamaki’s face goes as red as a mailbox and she immediately snaps, “I am NOT!”

Suddenly, Ayappi grabs her and starts shaking her back and forth while my little sister looks like her soul is about to leave her body. “Kyaaa, she’s a tsundere too! She's so cute! I wanna take her home! Hey, Takkun, can I? Please? Pretty please?"

"Yes. Absolutely."

"I-I gotta go find Mom and talk to her about this!" My sister hurries off to where Mom is standing, tidying up her station.

Suddenly, it's just me and Ayappi, staring deeply into each others' eyes.

It takes so long for me to say anything. I'm just not used to seeing her like this.

"Hey, so, uh..." I scratch the back of my head nervously. "You look really..."

The door slams open, and instantly the entire place falls silent.

It's like a shadow, a pit of creeping malice, envelops the entire small business. I know who it is before I look. One bald guy with dark glasses and a suit equally as black, three hateful-looking guys dressed the same way...and one little worm of a high school dropout pushing his way to the front to stand alongside his boss, looking proud like he's somehow accomplished a single thing in his life.

Mom slowly walks over to the criminal, trying not to let her expression betray her, but I can see a slight shake.

"I assume you know what this is about, Aikawa-san?" He barely cocks an eyebrow at her.

"TIME TO PAY UP, MOTHERFU-" The yakuza boss holds up a hand, and Wahira's rat-like face instantly falls silent.

Not in front of Ayappi. Please, no. Instantly, I move to shield her.

"...Yes," my mother says softly. "Please give me a second..."

"I've got it." A loud, piercing voice breaks the silence, and Reika Suzuran pushes her way in front of my mother, holding a stack of papers with a triumphant expression. "All the records, right here."

Wahira looks like he's about to shit his pants. The boss barely moves an eyebrow.

"First off. From ASC Capital, investment, fifty million." She waggles an official-looking piece of paper. "I told you about that, right? We got somebody to buy in. Bet you weren't expecting that, huh?"

The boss stands, stone-faced. "That's not enough. You know what the deal was."

"I'm not finished. From the sale of assorted extra goods and services, 1,350,030. Total profit from operations in the month of September, including today, 1,753,215 yen."

Maybe...does the yakuza guy look slightly concerned? "Not bad," he says coolly, "but still not enough."

"Hey, Yui!" The president barks at the student council members, who have gathered in the entranceway to watch the scene unfold, all with looks of concern on their faces. "How much did we make from the merchandise table today?"

The girl with the glasses hurries over, head down, holding out the pad she was taking notes on. The president examines it. "¥2,679,281. And now for the crowdfunding." She takes out her phone, tapping away, and holds it out. "The total comes to ¥6,892,150. Goal exceeded by over 300%. Not bad."

The mobsters whisper among themselves for a few seconds, and then the boss slowly turns back to the president. "What's the total?"

"Hmm..." As she types away at her phone, it feels like the entire store is holding its breath. Please, please be enough. Please. I don't want to lose everything. Please.

"¥62,674,676."

I slowly exhale, and at the same time, the color returns to Wahira's ghostly white face. "HA! YOU'RE SHORT!" the toad screeches in that awful voice of his.

It's over. It's all over.

The boss whispers something to his subordinates, and they fan out behind him.

"I never said I was done."

The president's voice cuts through the silence. Wearily, I look up, and see that the boss has swallowed nervously. All the confidence from Wahira's face is gone.

"One last thing." She takes out an envelope, holding out an official receipt. "Bank transfer, from Barista Records. It came in this afternoon. I had to call in a favor...but Lara was happy to do it for me."

I think I see the criminal boss take a small step back.

"Four hundred thousand yen. From Lara herself, as thanks." For a second, it seems like the president's face is glowing. "The total comes to ¥63,074,676. I believe this concludes our deal, doesn't it, Ootsuka-san?"

For a second, the entire salon falls silent again, and suddenly a vein pops on the boss's head and he screams, "I DON'T SEE ANY CASH! EVERYBODY OUT! EVERYBODY OUT OF HERE! RIGHT NOW!"

The blood rushes to my head as the black-clad thugs fan out around the store. "Ootsuka, you son of a bitch, we had a deal..."

"Shut the fuck up, Aikawa, before I bust your kneecaps." Wahira's got the baseball bat out. Slowly, I back away. I can beat him up one on one, but he's got a weapon.

Someone's behind me. It's a slender, trembling body. I turn around ever so slightly, getting a glimpse of Ayappi's frightened face.

"Get behind me," I whisper, trying not to betray my own fear.

"I SAID EVERYBODY OUT-"

A purse flies through the air, nailing the yakuza boss square in the forehead.

"You get out of here! I'm in the middle of a haircut, you geeks!"

One of the old blue-haired ladies is standing up from her chair, with her arm locked in the throwing position.

And then another purse hits him in the head. "Yeah! Get out of here, you bastards!" Another old woman is standing up.

"Go away!" Tasuku shrieks, and a glass jar of Barbicide flies through the air, making contact square in the face of the Yakuza boss, and he staggers backwards, holding a hand to his forehead. That one hurt, I can tell.

The sunglasses are gone, and there's blood streaming all the way down his face as it twists in rage. "You just had to do this the hard way..." he growls. "Rough 'em up, boys."

The yakuza thugs fan out again. They're going after the old ladies. And my brother. I've gotta get to them. But right in front of me is Wahira, licking his rodent lips, baseball bat out, and he'll go after Ayappi if I move...

"Is there a problem here, sir?"

The entire salon falls silent again, the goons still in mid-advance, Wahira in mid-swing. It's the businesswoman from earlier, staring down the boss.

"Who the hell are you?" he growls.

She fishes around in her pocket, holding out something to the criminal. "Chief Inspector Keiko Masuda, Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department Shakujii Branch. I'll ask again. Is there some kind of problem?"

"Yes, there is! I'm this property's owner and they're trespassing! I need them out of here, right now!"

"We'll be happy to discuss this at the station."

The boss bites his lip. "And I'm pressing charges! Assault with a deadly weapon...I'm bleeding!"

"Sure. We'll discuss that at the station as well. Along with your peace disturbance and incitements to violence." She doesn't budge.

"Dammit, you..."

"I'd get out of here if I was you, Ootsuka-san." She stares at him coldly. "I don't think your bosses would appreciate you getting yourself arrested over this, would they?"

The boss tries to say something back, but no words come out. He's speechless. Wahira's as white as a sheet. Slowly, he turns his back, and the goons follow silently out the door, Wahira looking like he's ready to turn tail and run.

"This isn't over," the boss hisses under his breath as they exit.

I want to say the place erupts into cheers and we all group hug. But in reality, it's more of a collective sigh of relief. No one throws confetti. No one grabs each other in a bear hug. We're all just happy that none of us are hurt. Except for the president, who's looking confident, like she planned this all along.

I slump to the ground, sighing with exhaustion.

Above me, the president's smiling face fills my vision. "I told you we could do it, Aikawa-kun."

It's hard for me to even process it. "We did it?"

"Yup. We did it."

"Takkun, you did it..." Ayame's voice is at once excited, but also relieved.

"We did it. That's right. We did it."