Whispers in the Winter Wind

After a short walk, Yasushi, Sakura, Nandini, and Akazuki returned to the large front room of the building. Inside, they noticed a variety of homeless people spread throughout the area. Some sat together in clusters, talking in animated tones, while others focused on the TV mounted on the wall. A few sat alone, quietly absorbed in books. The atmosphere was calm, and there didn't seem to be any disturbances or concerns in the room.

Near the entrance stood a small reception desk. Behind it, a woman typed steadily on her keyboard, her attention fixed on the screen in front of her.

"As you know, this is where people come in first. It's where they meet our receptionist, arrange an appointment, or talk about their situation," Akazuki said, his hand moving lightly as he gestured to the space around them. "Of course, any detailed discussions take place in a different room."

"I assume that the receptionist must have specific qualifications and traits to land that job, right?" Nandini asked, breaking her silence for the first time since they had arrived.

"Yes, to an extent. We're open to anyone willing to volunteer or apply for general positions. But for roles requiring more responsibility, applicants need particular skills. It's necessary to ensure the safety of both the staff and everyone in the building," Akazuki explained, his response addressing Nandini's question.

Akazuki directed them to another section of the room. The atmosphere here differed, with people quietly talking, reading, or scrolling through their phones.

"This is one of the smaller spaces, but there's a dedicated room in the building where residents can unwind without interruptions. There are also separate areas equipped with computers where they can actively search for jobs or work on other tasks," he added, continuing the tour.

"So there's another one that's…what, like a library?" Yasushi asked, his tone skeptical. Akazuki regarded him with a thoughtful expression before offering a nod. "Lucky guess…"

"Indeed. I'll take you there now. These next rooms I'll show you tend to be calmer. Most of the residents here are already in a better state — they don't bring much trouble," Akazuki explained while stepping toward the door. Yasushi followed without comment, curiosity barely masked in his movements.

The pair took a left down a narrow hallway lined with pictures. The artwork, most of it clearly hand-drawn, adorned the walls in a mismatched collection. Each piece appeared to be a small contribution from the residents themselves, though neither of them mentioned it aloud. The corridor was short, and they soon reached a door that Akazuki pushed open without hesitation.

Inside was a library of moderate size, its bookshelves neatly filled with volumes of varying age and condition. Yasushi scanned the space, his expression shifting as he took in the unexpected sight. The number of books and the care put into maintaining the room stood out, especially considering the kind of organization this seemed to be.

"Impressive. I assume there's a librarian here?" Yasushi asked, his tone casual as he glanced around.

Akazuki gave a small nod. "Yes, but she stepped out for lunch. She shouldn't be too long. In the meantime, how about we head to some of the noisier areas?" He gestured toward the hallway with a slight motion of his head. The others exchanged looks and then gave their agreement without much hesitation.

After staying a bit longer among the rows of bookshelves, they decided to leave. The library offered little beyond its quiet atmosphere and walls filled with neatly stacked volumes. With nothing more to see, they exited without ceremony.

Akazuki led them through a maze of corridors, each one lined with doors and occasional signs marking the purpose of various rooms. The journey didn't last long before they stopped at a large room filled with rows of desks and chairs. Inside, a group of about forty individuals sat attentively, though some fidgeted in their seats. Despite occasional distractions, most of them seemed intent on what was being taught at the front.

"These folks… Many of them dropped out for different reasons," Akazuki said after a moment, his expression darkening slightly. "Some of their choices were bad ones, but others were dealt hands they couldn't control. Regardless, they're good people trying to turn things around." His words carried a tone that suggested a mix of frustration and sympathy.

"What are they learning about?" Yasushi asked, looking closely at the scene in front of him, his attention drawn to the lively group in the room.

"General subjects for now," Akazuki explained as he glanced over. "These sessions cover basics like Math, English, and Science, but they also include life skills like filing taxes. Later, there are more specialized courses for people aiming at specific fields. By the way, the ones teaching these are educators from nearby schools and colleges. They've volunteered to do this without compensation, which we're really grateful for," he added, a faint smile touching his face.

"That's generous of them. How long are these sessions?" Nandini asked, her expression softening as she turned toward Akazuki.

"Usually about an hour, but for the people taking part, it's more than just a class. It's a vital step toward rebuilding their lives. Of course, we've got other programs for those who don't need this particular setup. That's actually where we're headed next," he said, gesturing for them to follow as he began moving toward the next area.

+-+

The area they arrived at was... far messier than it had been earlier — calling it a mess was putting it mildly. The scene looked like someone had declared war on anything within arm's reach. Bowls, cups, cushions, bits of metal, plates, and countless other objects littered the floor without rhyme or reason.

Chairs had been knocked over, sofas flipped, and even tables were overturned. In the middle of the wreckage stood the source of the chaos, half-dressed and breathing heavily, eyes bloodshot as he growled at the staff. His expression twisted with frustration as he continued his rampage.

"Give me my chocolate!" he bellowed, launching another object — a tray this time — toward a hapless worker who scrambled to dodge.

Akazuki exhaled audibly, the sound carrying a note of resignation. "Looks like Mr. Fubiel stopped taking his meds again. He'd been doing fine these past few weeks, but something must've set him off. Makes me wonder what kept him from taking them this time."

Yasushi glanced toward Akazuki, brows slightly raised. "Don't you think it'd be better to keep him in a more secure facility? Something like a psych ward? This feels like more than what a homeless shelter should handle."

Akazuki lowered his head, his expression clouded. "Yes, I understand. But both places near our city have already banned him from returning. He's caused too much harm, hurt too many people, and even... nearly killed someone." His voice dipped as the words left him, as though forcing them out made them heavier to bear.

He went on, "If he keeps going like this... that man will end up abandoned on the streets. Once that happens, he'll have no choice but to become even more destructive just to survive. If we cast him out now, his chances of making it are almost nonexistent."

Nandini folded her arms and stepped in. "And if you keep him here? If he continues like this, your organization's reputation will sink further. He's not just a danger to himself but to others — homeless people, staff, anyone around him. Can you afford to take that risk? Or to deal with the lawsuits if someone else gets hurt?" Her voice hit like a hammer, unflinching as she fixed her attention on Akazuki.

Akazuki stayed silent. Her argument cut deep, and he couldn't deny the truth behind it. Yet, like Kyousuke, he couldn't bring himself to let go of the man entirely.

"We'll deal with that when the time comes. For now, I want to believe Mr. Fubiel has a chance to improve. If not…perhaps transferring him to a different institution that might suit his needs better could be an option. Maybe this is something we can discuss during the upcoming meeting," Akazuki said, their tone subdued before continuing down the hallway.

The next room was only a short distance away. Four doors down, they stopped in front of it. Inside, several individuals were gathered, speaking with serious expressions and focused demeanors.

"What is this place? Everyone here looks so…intense," Sakura asked, her eyes moving from one conversation to the next, taking in the atmosphere.

"This is where we work with individuals who are nearly ready to return to the workforce. We help them practice interviews so they won't feel caught off guard or overly nervous when they face the real thing," Akazuki explained.

In the room, all the applicants engaged in their interview exercises with a clear sense of purpose. Each practice session paired them with an interviewer who brought a different approach and personality to the table. Following their guidance, the participants adjusted their behavior accordingly, tailoring their responses while receiving advice specific to each scenario.

"Do you think most of them have actual interviews coming up?" Sakura asked, turning toward Akazuki for clarification.

"I'd estimate that a significant majority, probably over 90%, are preparing for something real," Akazuki replied. "Some of those are legitimate evaluations to see if they're qualified for the positions. Others are formalities for jobs that are essentially secured, but they want to prepare anyway since the interviews could mark major turning points in their lives."

He added, "If we decide to collaborate, this type of preparation would become part of the work for you or your group members. I know a lot of them are still in college, but this could be beneficial for everyone involved since it's about mutual growth — both in teaching and learning."

After they stayed there for a few more minutes, they left, and Akazuki guided them to another corridor with several doors lined along both sides.

"What's down there?" Yasushi asked, his tone carrying interest in what this part of the building held.

"Those rooms are used by therapists," Akazuki explained. "They come here once a week to help those struggling with mental health challenges. Like the others, these therapists volunteer their time — three hours each week, which means each session is an hour long. There's a list, so people have to wait their turn."

"So, not exactly ideal. Let me guess — budget constraints keep you from hiring them? Even with the funds from your fundraisers, right?" Yasushi questioned. Akazuki nodded in confirmation, acknowledging the limitations they faced.

A moment passed before Yasushi added, "Apart from providing support, would I be right to think that some of the people staying here, the ones who've built strong trust and have adjusted well, end up working here too?"

"Yes, if they decide to pursue it. Some of the staff here were once homeless themselves and chose to return to help others. A few are still homeless but have earned certain responsibilities that allow them to contribute," Akazuki explained. "Follow me. I'll show you a few more parts of the facility."

Akazuki led the group through areas that served practical purposes rather than standing out as extraordinary or unexpected. They passed through family rooms — spaces created for families to stay while caring for their children. These rooms provided a supportive environment where parents, especially single ones, could connect with others in similar situations.

There were sections dedicated to childcare for parents who had found jobs but couldn't yet afford their own housing. These parents could leave their children in a safe place while they worked to save money, with the ultimate goal of moving on once they had the means to do so.

Lastly, there were youth services designed to provide activities and engagement for children, aimed at keeping them out of trouble and away from harmful influences like substance abuse, which could arise from the challenges their families faced.

There were additional programs in place for those who wanted to return and seek further support, tailored to their individual needs. However, it became clear that what they sought went beyond those offerings — they desired expanded facilities that could address a broader range of interests and requirements.

Specific requests included accommodations that allowed for pets, spaces dedicated to hobbies like gardening, and fitness areas to cater to those aiming to maintain or improve their physical health.

They also highlighted the presence of locker rooms entrusted to individuals based on a system of accountability, along with the living quarters provided to residents. The rooms varied in size depending on their location, designed with the intent to house as many people as possible without sacrificing comfort or accessibility.

Additionally, the group shared that a significant portion of their funding came from organized fundraisers and external contributions. These efforts were critical due to the pervasive corruption they had observed among certain council members, an issue Yasushi and his organization were actively investigating.

+-+

They ate lunch in a small room next to the kitchen. The short walk through the building had ended, and Akazuki had mentioned that the other properties they managed around the town were largely similar, with a few variations.

"So, what do you think?" Akazuki asked, his attention directed at them, waiting for any responses.

The three remained quiet for a moment, each seeming to measure their thoughts before deciding to speak. Nandini finally broke the silence. "You've got a lot of hurdles to get through. Sure, being compassionate is important, but if it means putting others at risk just to help one person, it could cost you more than you can afford," she said, her gaze fixed on Akazuki.

"Your organization isn't in a position to take those risks — especially if outside funding is involved," she added, her tone firm. "If the people supporting you financially decide they're not on board with how you're handling things, you could lose a lot more than money. Take some time and seriously rethink how you'll approach these situations," she cautioned, her words striking a nerve. Akazuki's expression tightened, but it was clear he grasped the weight of what she said.

"I know it's an issue Kyousuke and I are dealing with. We want to help, but we also know we'll have to make a decision soon. If we don't, we'll lose some funding," Akazuki said, exhaling audibly as though trying to relieve some of the tension.

Nandini took a sip of her coffee and leaned back slightly. "Other than that, things seem to be in a good place. You've got the essentials and some amenities that should help people feel more at ease. Those might even encourage them to take up personal hobbies, which can be a bonus. Adding something like a pet area or a gardening space might be something we can support when the time is right."

Sakura nodded in agreement, echoing Nandini's thoughts but adding a bit of energy to her response. They continued discussing the project casually and spent the rest of their visit enjoying another look around the building before heading out.

When they reached the park where they had originally met, and as they were about to part ways, Sakura turned and asked, "What's your personal take on it?"

"It's fine," Yasushi began, his voice taking on a tone that carried the matter's seriousness. "But, as Nandini pointed out, if they get too soft-hearted, certain destructive people inside that building might ruin them. If they don't stand their ground, they'll eventually get forced to shut everything down." His expression darkened as he paused. "For now, we leave it to them. They're the ones in charge, and it's their call to make. When we see them again, we'll have a proper discussion. Until then, I'll arrange for someone to keep an eye on them."

"I agree," Sakura said simply. She gave a quick wave before turning and walking away. "I'll see you two in a few days."

"Let's head home," Yasushi said, glancing at Nandini, who nodded without hesitation. Together, they departed, bringing the day to a close on a note that carried a faint sense of optimism.