Akira and Ann Kurusu travelled the world together. Her modelling career took the pages of the magazines by storm. Nobody was quite sure what her husband did - "a bit of everything" was the answer they most often got. But he never left her side, and their marriage was as sure as anything. They both cried at the altar. Morgana was an adorable ringbearer.
Ryuji Sakamoto busted his ass as a track coach during term time. Every evening, he came back to the little café Haru Okumura ran in the alleys of Tokyo. She gave him peace, he gave her laughter. They watched slasher movies together and wondered about their future.
Makoto Nijima became a detective. She had her wits, a keen sense of justice and a punishing uppercut. It soon became a saying that there wasn't a crime she couldn't solve. She went to her friends wedding, then looked at the photos of them, and of Ryuji and Haru, and cursed her mistakes.
Yusuke Kitagawa made art, made friends. Every time he contacted his old friends, he'd tell them about how he'd been whisked onto some new project in some new country by his girlfriend. He added cooking and music to his repertoire of artistic skills, although writing eluded him. He was happy, although sometimes he missed his childhood exploits.
Futaba Sakura refused to get a desk job. She made her own company. She coded revolutionary privacy apps and database management tools from the upstairs room of LeBlanc, where her father still made curry and coffee. He'd been getting a little slower at it. She didn't like thinking about that.
They were happy. They remembered being heroes fondly, but they could move on.
