It seemed to Yukio that three in the morning was the optimal time for both thinking and coding. A lot of his best work got done in the wee small hours of the night, at least when he wasn't running (literally) around Destiny City as Spei, Moon Squire. Those nights were written into his schedule like everything else in his life was: coding gigs, DJ gigs, hacker activities, seeing Abbey, playing magical boy superhero. There was so much going on he had to keep track of it like that.

Tonight, though, was thinking and hacking. Yukio stood on the balcony of his downtown high-rise apartment, watching the city go by as he smoked one of his clove cigarettes, lost in thought. This was the night he was going to enact his big plan to end the lie he'd been feeding his parents about college – which he hadn't been to since a girl broke his heart in his freshman year. In retrospect, it was a stupid reason to drop out, but it was too embarrassing to confess to his mother and father. The elaborate web of lies he'd woven since then were coming to a head, though, as "graduation" was coming up and his deception would be over one way or another. Truth be told, it was the other way he preferred to end it: on his terms.

And he had a plan.

Stubbing out his cigarette, he went back inside and sat down in his favorite hacking spot, a cushion on the living room floor in front of a low table with two monitors on it and a massive water-cooled computer tower humming away next to it. He leaned back against the kotatsu that occupied the center of the living room and pulled on his hacking hat, a pink fleece thing with ear flaps and long floppy bunny ears. Donning his DJ headset, he put on some lo-fi to keep his mind focused on the task at hand and wiggled his black-tipped fingers over the keyboard. He was ready.

The plan was simple: alter the records in Destiny City University's computer system so it would appear that Yukio had been attending college all along, complete with grades that were good but not exceptionally so, and set classes and credits up so that he would be eligible to "graduate" with a CompSci degree. Then he would request through the normal channels not to attend the commencement ceremony, citing work already lined up, and get his diploma sent to him. Meanwhile, he would tell his parents that he was skipping the cap and gown ceremony and going straight to work, thus sparing them having to make the trip from San Francisco back to Destiny City. He'd drop the name of one of the companies he'd already been doing work for to add credence to it all. His parents were sure to believe him.

It was a good, solid plan. He had the hacking chops to pull it off – he'd been in and out of DCU's computers more times than he could count already and knew his way around their systems inside and out. He'd read through the CompSci graduation requirements too, so he knew what classes to "take" and what courses were offered when and all the other requirements that were needed. He was as well-prepared as he could be.

Time to go in.

Slipping in through the back door he'd found a year ago, Yukio navigated his way through the various pathways and code of DCU's computers until he found the system he was looking for, the student database for three years ago when he'd dropped out. It was a simple matter to find his record and alter the "incomplete" marks on the second semester to actual grades – again, nothing extraordinary, just slightly above average marks. Noting down his student ID number on a notepad open on his second monitor, he moved on to the next year and wormed his way into that student database. He created a new record and started adding courses and grades, making sure everything pointed to his student ID number. This was done meticulously, with great care, so nothing would tip the school administration off that anything was wrong.

On to the next year. He repeated what he'd done in the second-year database, careful to add the correct courses and plausible grades to the record he created for himself in each semester. Satisfied with his work, he slid out of that one and slithered through the system to the database for the current year – which he discovered was in a different format than previous years. "s**t," he muttered, lifting his hands from the keyboard. This was going to take some studying to make sure he entered his record correctly.

The beat from the lo-fi thrummed in his ears as he cautiously scrolled his way through the records to figure out what the formatting was, which data item was which, what order everything was in. After about half an hour of this, he determined that the format was based around course number instead of student ID number, like the other databases had been. Once he figured that out, it was a matter of adding course numbers and grades along with his student ID in the correct sequence, carefully checking his work against his notes the entire time until he was done.

Leaning back in relief against the kotatsu, he finally allowed himself to breathe. What was done, was done; he would show up in their records like any other student at DCU when he contacted them about skipping the graduation ceremony. Which he would do via phone, the better to vamp in case something was wrong. It wasn't foolproof, by any stretch, but it was a pretty good bit of hackery. He was pleased with his work tonight.

Yukio meticulously began to back out of the computer system, erasing any sign or trace of his being there. At last he exited the back door and closed the window he'd been working in – but not before clearing out the history on his browser and the cache just in case. The variable IP address he used through his VPN would take care of the rest. With a huge sign, he cracked open a celebratory bottle of Ramune and took a drink. The proof of the pudding would be when he called the university during the day to get the ball rolling.

For now, it was time for breakfast. Standing, he powered down his computer, noting that the sky outside was beginning to show signs of dawn's approach. Breakfast, then a few hours' sleep. Then he'd find out how well he'd really done.

(wc: 1115)