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Goro couldn't escape her father's clutches even as an adult, it seemed.He allowed her her own choice of school, but with the condition that she continued to live with him—so hardly a choice at all. It wasn't as if Tokyo lacked for prestigious universities, but the feeling of being led along like an obedient puppet would never not make her blood boil.It wasn't as if they had some harmonious home life, either. Goro made herself scarce, and Masayoshi didn't complain. It was only the brief possibility that Goro could leave that made him demand her to stay. He found an acceptance letter to a school in Yokohama in the mail, which triggered a lovely father-daughter meeting where he set down his terms.But she could bear it, because someday, she would get her revenge. For now, she spent as much time as she could at school, staying up late in the library studying weeks in advance.The break between her first and second year was no different. Classes hadn't begun, but damned if she wasn't going to get a headstart. She was going to show up that snobby bitch Nijima.Usually, her father didn't care how she came and went so long as she was quiet about it. So, silently, she slipped off her shoes, and silently, she crept down the hall to the stairs."You didn't tell me you'd get home late."The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Don't flinch. Let it pass through you. He was in the living room, sitting in an armchair next to the fireplace."Greetings, father," she said, face stiffening into a polite smile. "I apologize, I didn't realize I would be out so long. I got caught up in my studies." Not like you ever gave a shit before , she thought.He grunted. "Just don't get wrapped up in any scandals. One step out of line…""I promise, it was just studying. But I'll keep that in mind."Her skin hurt from the way her obedient daughter face pulled it taut. She had to actively relax her jaw so she wouldn't grind her teeth."Is there anything else?"There was a tray of whiskey beside him, and a book about Napoleon sitting in his lap. Hopefully, they had just accidentally run into each other, and he'd send her away. He closed the book with a quiet thump. "There is."
Shit.
She stood up straight, giving him her full, undivided attention, hands folded neatly behind her back."Yes, sir?""We're going to dinner tomorrow night. Be here at six for the chauffeur to pick you up. If you're late, there will be consequences."
Dinner?
Her mind went scrambling to remember the last time they had dinner together.When she graduated highschool? No.When she was accepted into Tokyo University? No. On the anniversary of her mother's death? Not once."Is there a problem?"Her father's stern voice snapped her out of her pondering. Her smile had briefly dropped."No, of course not. I'll do exactly as you say.""Good. Dress appropriately."She nodded. If he was stressing it, that meant black tie, probably. Ugh, she had to wear a dress.He looked at her for a long moment, eyes slightly squinted as if carefully evaluating her. The longer they were in silence, the colder she felt. She had a feeling if she broke it, he would admonish her for talking back. What was he looking for? What test was she meant to be passing? After an eternity, his evaluation ceased, and he opened his book."You're dismissed," he said without looking up.She left as swiftly as possible. — She was dressed and ready by five forty. The car that was meant to take her arrived at half past six.That meant almost an hour sitting in her dress and heels in the front room, looking out the window and checking her phone every other moment on the off chance she missed something. When the car pulled up, she was about ready to smash his head in with her purse."You're late," she sneered, getting into the back. "I hope you're prepared to explain yourself."The man in the front seat adjusted the rear-view mirror. "This is when I was told to arrive, ma'am."Ah. Her face burned. He always made her wait.Her tone could have frozen hell. "Just drive. " — The restaurant was, as expected, beyond upper-class. It would take a whole year's salary for a regular person to even get a table here, let alone a full set of courses.It was on the highest floor of the building, with glass walls so you could look down on all of Tokyo. It wasn't surprising that her father, who already saw regular people as worth less than insects, would feel at home here.Still. The view was almost worth the fact that she'd have to sit through dinner with her father.She gave her name at the entrance, and was escorted further into the room, into a relatively more private area.As it came into view, she realized that tucked into some hidden corner of her well-guarded heart, there rested some secret, miniscule scrap of daughterly admiration, a spark of childish hope that the man that fathered her would even once turn around and acknowledge the little girl standing in his shadow.She realized this, because she felt a stab in her chest as, like a heat-seeking missile, what she saw found and annihilated that hope into naught but ashes.Beside her father was a woman—a girl that couldn't be more than 22. She had a long, curly mane that despite its texture didn't have a hair out of place, and bright silver eyes. On her hand, there was a gaudy, obnoxious diamond ring."Sit down," he ordered.Goro pulled out her chair, and she sat down."Akira, this is my daughter, Goro. She'll be living with us, so I expect you'll get along."The child he must have just picked up from a wandering pack of elementary schoolers smiled. It was very charismatic."It's wonderful to meet you, Goro," she said. She spoke low and quiet, like she was in a perpetual state of sharing a secret. She had bright, clever eyes. Either she was incredibly resilient, or she hadn't been through that soul-crushing machine called high society. The words she was meant to say came up her throat like she was gorging up cotton balls. "You as well." Her clever eyes twinkled, and Goro hated her intimately. If she looked at her any longer, she'd be sick.She turned to him."I wasn't aware you were seeing anyone, father." "It's not for you to concern yourself with," he said, somewhere between condescending and stern. He wrapped his arm indulgently, obviously around her waist, and squeezed her closer, forcing bile up her throat. "Of course, I ought to let my new wife meet her stepdaughter before she moves in."Goro felt her mouth open, but there was nothing to say. "Well."There was another moment of horrible silence. Her ears might start ringing."I apologize deeply, I must make use of the facilities for just a moment—excuse me."She fled on wooden feet, seeking out a waitress and forcing her to direct her to the bathroom. In that pristine fortress, she gripped the edge of the counter and stared into nothing. Her hands were trembling. She had remembered the last time her father invited her to dinner. — She was young—13, or thereabouts. Her biggest concern at the time had been choosing a highschool that would make her father proud. When she passed the hardest entrance exam in Tokyo, and her father took her out to sushi, she thought, naively, that she had succeeded.But it had never been about her. The only purpose of the meeting was to introduce her to the woman he was replacing her mother with.She was mortified. She screamed and cried like a little kid. She begged him not to throw mom away. He told her to get over it—her mother was dead, and nothing was changing that. Her pathetic display in particular did nothing except bring shame on them both. It was astoundingly immature behavior for a usually precocious child graduating middle school.The punishment was a week of solitary confinement.She didn't remember much from that time. Just rage. She was finally starting to understand what kind of man her father was. They were divorced before she finished highschool, but Goro never forgot, and she never forgave. This, though… this was a new low.Her phone buzzed. A message from her father.
Come back when you finish your little tantrum.
Don't embarrass me further.
She washed her face with paper towels, then redid her makeup quickly with shaky hands. Get your shit together, she thought.She smiled apologetically as she arrived at the table."So sorry, I suddenly felt ill. I must have eaten something that disagreed with me, but I'm alright now."Her father had obtained a drink in the meantime. Akira had seemingly been coerced into having a glass of the same thing.
Damn alcoholic.
His lip curled, but before he said anything, Akira spoke up."That's good. I was worried—should we get you some water?"Her tone was blissfully unaware of the tension boiling between the two family members. Perhaps Goro had judged her 'clever eyes' too quickly. She would take it, though. She smiled vibrantly and said: "oh, you don't need to concern yourself. But perhaps I should."She flagged down a server and requested a glass of water.Based on the plates stacked on the table, they had started the first course without her. Either she was in the bathroom longer than she thought, or he really didn't give a damn about including her.It was probably a punishment for leaving. She stuck around for the rest of the meal, though nothing she ate made any particular impression on her. They went their separate ways once the meal concluded. He called a car for Akira, then took them back in his luxury vehicle."Don't bother coming to the wedding," he said. In the passenger seat, Goro grit her teeth, and said nothing. — A semester later, she was accosted in her own kitchen by Akira's sudden presence."Oh," she said.They stared at each other for a while.She was wearing a silk robe, with who-knows-what underneath. Her hair was still wet from the shower.Goro wasn't that surprised she had missed her moving in. Whenever possible, she was elsewhere. She was meticulous in minimizing possible encounters with her father.Also, it was a big house, with excellent sound-proofing. Thank God. She would sooner throw herself in front of a train than hear what her father got up to in bed."Do you want any breakfast?" She asked. Goro was so thoroughly startled by the request that she was momentarily lost for words."No, I don't eat breakfast."Akira raised her eyebrows. The red silk was vibrant against her pale skin. "Well, you should."This bitch—"I'll get something on the way to school."She went past her to the cupboards and grabbed a glass of water so she could take her vitamins. She took them in one gulp, then slammed down the whole glass."Excuse me," she said, hoarse. It felt like one might still be stuck in her throat, but she'd drown it in coffee later. She couldn't stay any longer. She rushed past Akira, too quick for goodbyes. — It was over a year before her father stopped taking his lovely wife everywhere he went.That was longer than his second wife got. And throughout Goro's childhood, he never had time for his first wife. She supposed that made her special. She didn't see what the fuss was about. But that summer, he took an extended business trip, and Goro got the chance to find out.Akira was always dolled up when she saw her. She only caught snippets of her, waiting for her husband in the foyer, making breakfast in the morning, taking a moment to breathe after another gala. They didn't talk. There was an effortless glamour to her, even when she had just woken up. It made her sick.It was shocking walking into the kitchen and seeing her in an anime T-shirt and a pair of thick, hideous glasses.They stared at each other for a while."Masayoshi's gone for a month," she said, as if that explained everything."So you don't have to play the gorgeous ingenue anymore?"Her mouth quirked, and she nodded. She went back to taking things out of the cabinets."What are you doing."She froze. Turned around."Are you going to tell him?"She raised her eyebrows. Like she'd willingly talk to that asshole. "Should I?""He doesn't like me cooking."Goro had noticed that. She saw him telling her off once or twice on the subject. Her face was always cast in shadow when he yelled at her, head turned meekly down."And yet you persist." She leaned on her elbows. "Wouldn't you rather let the staff do it?"For a long moment, Akira just stared at her. She was infuriatingly difficult to read. Her eyes were darker than when they first met."Do you hate me?"Goro thought about it. Being cooped up was making her antsy, and she was in an arguing mood."No. You mean nothing to me."She meant for it to hurt, but Akira only hummed, and turned away again."I'm making curry. You can have some."Her ambivalence stung. "Why should I?""It's really good."Goro scoffed."I'm serious. I worked at a restaurant—before." She lifted a knife with an eery smile. "And Sonozaki is letting me use the good knives.""How did you do that?" Goro barely interacted with the staff. There was a maid that cleaned the house twice a week and her father's personal chef, Sonozaki.She wasn't home often enough to eat his food anymore, but in her few interactions with the man, she remembered him being a stone-faced professional. Akira shrugged. "Talked to him."Goro squinted. If that was a euphemism, she couldn't tell for what.Akira had a magnetic quality. Perhaps even more so like this, when the shine dimmed and she became a curiously short-spoken individual. Maybe she really did just talk to him. "Fine. I'll try your curry."For just a moment, Akira lit up, and the room glowed. — The curry, to her scorn, was delicious. — For no particular reason, Goro gravitated to the kitchen when she had free time. "What are the glasses for?"Akira looked up from the vegetables she was chopping. "They're not for anything. I just like them.""I imagine you wear contacts most of the time."Pause. "Sure." — After the break, her father had a revitalization of his interest in Akira. This became a pattern. He would pick her up and put her down again, like a toy that would sit neatly wherever he set it, waiting for his return. When he cared about her, she was either nowhere to be found or glamorous and exhausted, hunched against the counter. When he neglected her, she curled up on the couch with her glasses and watched TV. Akira would watch anything. Her tastes were catholic to the point of absurdity. She would turn on the TV, and no matter if it was sports, soap operas, nature documentaries, medical dramas, reality TV, or children's cartoons, she would sit and patiently watch.When Goro had an abundance of free time (which was often, due to her lack of a social life), she would sit with her, and complain.Usually about the TV, often about her classmates, and rarely about her father. She had tested the waters a few times, but when the subject came up, Akira always clammed up. She couldn't blame her.Sometimes, if Akira was in a good mood, she would talk about her past.Once, she came in with a pile of boxes she ordered online. "I used to be a barista," she said. "Okay?"Then she opened them, and revealed a set of fancy coffee equipment, plus fancy coffee beans. It was all Greek to her, but she could tell it was nice."Masayoshi doesn't really care how much money I spend," she said. "He's been giving me a lot lately."It was a period of neglect. He was trying to keep her satisfied in his absence, most likely. "He probably expects you to buy jewelry, or go to the spa."Akira smiled in her quiet, mischievous way."He didn't say I had to, though."Akira started making her coffee every morning. She was so particular about how she did it, she moved like she was possessed. A process perfected by experience."I'm becoming spoiled," Goro sighed, hands wrapped around a fresh mug. "I can't drink chain coffee anymore."Akira laughed in delight, and it made her heart squeeze. Father didn't go into the kitchen for any reason. He had a chef for that. This morning ritual became their secret. They would sit at the table and drink coffee together, and in those moments, Akira would sometimes talk about herself."My dad taught me how to make coffee. Um, he's not really my dad. He's who I lived with when I moved to Tokyo. We aren't related but he's the only family that matters to me. Him and my little sister."Getting Akira's backstory out of her was like pulling teeth. She carefully extracted every hint she found, compiling it in her mental folder labeled Akira. She looked so melancholy talking about her past, it overwhelmed Goro with the desire to make her smile again, whatever it took. At the same time, it burned a hole in her throat to know that Akira's world didn't revolve around her, that before Goro's father, she had a normal life, the kind of life Goro could only envy. Another time, they were sitting together when Akira suddenly stood up, took off her glasses, and slipped them onto Goro's face.She blinked a few times. "They're cosmetic."Akira nodded. "Why?""Started wearing them in highschool to improve my reputation.""...how.""Some people think my eyes are scary." Scary wasn't the right word, but something about them felt dangerous for her health."Did the glasses help?""No. But I felt safer."She hummed, and took a sip of her coffee.Akira only watched her.After an awkward moment, Goro fluttered her eyelashes at her. "Do I look pretty?" She said, teasing.Akira smiled. "Yes."Her brain stuttered to a stop. "Ah. Well, naturally."She laughed. — Her father didn't desire her presence at media events.She had disappointed him one too many times, disobeyed one too many time. She was an artifact of that woman who so inconsiderately took her own life, and she only looked more like her by the day. Besides, something about her looked off, next to his even younger third wife. He didn't want a liability like her around. She was to be swept under the rug and lie there with her mother's corpse. Unfortunately, this particular rich, connected piece of shit was an alum of the university she attended, and had become fixated on the fact. He jovially demanded her presence, and her father happily agreed. She was under strict orders to shut up and sit down, except to speak (as little as possible) to the horrible little man to whom she owed this evening.They arrived as a family. Akira subtly gave her hand a squeeze before they separated, which left her flustered and annoyed that she would attempt to comfort her. She picked up something to drink and pretended to take sips of it in the corner. Like hell she was letting herself lose a smidgen of control among these sharks. From her vantage point, she got a wonderful view of her father toting Akira around as he schmoozed with every notable person. Akira didn't say much, instead relegated to arm candy. Still, she had a miraculous ability to seem engaged in each and every little bullshit interaction. Maybe it was her eyes. They always seemed to see more than their subject desired.He abandoned her to go talk business, and she drifted, a little red buoy out at sea.Then, as naturally as if she was always there, she inserted herself into a circle of women. She made it look so easy. It made Goro want to take her apart and analyze her from the inside out. At that point, she was waved down by the host to talk about his beloved alma mater. By the time she disentangled herself, she had lost both of her companions in the crowd. A quick scan of the room found her a possible exit route—at least, somewhere to be alone for a little while. Accidentally, she found Akira instead. She was comforting a crying woman, standing together in the hall. She didn't speak, just let her cries echo off the walls.Goro hid herself and watched. Soon enough, the woman sniffed, dabbed at her face, and excused herself to the restroom. She gave Akira a grateful smile as she left. Alone, Akira slumped back against the wall, looking much more like the slouchy, lazy, silly girl she was when her husband wasn't around. Goro slipped in to lean on the wall beside her. Her body tensed, then softened as she saw her, realized who it was."You shouldn't waste your energy on these people," Goro warned. She'd been in this game much, much longer than Akira had. "She was crying. I was just giving her my shoulder for a second.""No one here would do the same for you. All they know how to do is take.""You would," she said. Goro pursed her lips, looking at Akira sidelong.Bright eyes, clever eyes. Holding a challenge in them. Did she really believe that, or was it just a self-indulgent hope? Was she intending to trap her into it through guilt, making promises on her behalf?Her throat felt dry. She kicked off the wall, then dumped the rest of her champagne into a plant. "Believe what you want." — It had been a long week. Despite her exhaustion, Akira had bullied her into taking a bath together. She had a new oil she wanted to try, or something. The bath was big enough that they could bathe without touching. There were candles clustered around and rose petals floating on the top of the steaming, sweet smelling water.She felt herself, against her best interests, beginning to melt."This is nice," she admitted, arms draped on the lip of the tub.Akira was washing her hair on the other side of the bath. She had a smug, catlike smile. It suited her."I thought you could use it." Unwilling to cede any further ground, she put her face in her arms and went mmph. Akira often laughed so quietly, you had to really listen to hear it. Even then, it was more a few puffs of air. If she really wanted to hear her, she'd have to put her ear against her chest.She tried not to think about it too hard.There was a splash as Akira poured water over her head."Do you want help washing your hair?" Goro stiffened."I don't have to," she quickly added. The interjection annoyed her.Stubbornly, she sat up, facing away. "No, it's alright. Go ahead."
It's fine. We're "family," or something like that.
"Close your eyes."The water rushed over her head, warming her scalp. There was the sound of a cap opening. Shortly after, Akira's hands worked their way into her hair. They were warm, but the shampoo was cold, and she suppressed a shiver. It warmed up soon enough. The very tips of Akira's nails scratched lightly against the back of her head. She struggled not to purr, to lean into the touch. It felt like hours, just letting her wash her hair. Sitting together in silence, surrounded by steam, a familiar melancholy overtook her."My mother would take baths with me."Akira never stopped or wavered, only hummed to let her know she'd been heard. Gaining confidence, she continued:"She was busy a lot. She was a politician's wife. She took it very seriously."She gave me as much as she could. I spent a lot of time alone, but we always bathed together. She used to tell me stories in the bath. She would hold me and tell me we were very lucky, to have the life we had. That she loved me more than anything else in the world."As I got older, my father insisted she was spoiling me. So that stopped. My mother's attention waned. She was sick all the time. She couldn't see me anymore."She stared at her nails. "She took her life in the master bathroom. I wonder if she wanted to remember that time we had together."Akira's hands slid down onto her shoulders. "Goro…""You know," she started, trying to inject a note of cheer into her voice and failing, "I don't think I've ever told anyone about that. Everyone but my father and the EMTs thought she died of pneumonia.""She must have loved you very much."She had no idea how much it would hurt to hear that. It felt like Akira was cracking her heart like an egg, and holding the yolk softly in her hands. Akira finished washing her hair, flushing out the suds with a bucket. She didn't mention the tears beading in Goro's eyes, or the red-hot flush of her face. "The steam's getting to me, I think," she said anyway. They stayed until they were lightheaded. — It was late. That man was guaranteed to be out of the country all week. A work trip in Hawaii. Goro had no doubts that he would be enjoying the company of women in the meantime. If this meant anything to Akira, she didn't show it.Instead, she seemed quite content to spend time with Goro. A few days off lined up neatly with her father's blessed absence, and they spent practically all of it together.The last night before Goro's break ended, Akira got it into her head that they should have a sleepover. It was rare that she was so persistent. Goro acquiesced. The servants were sent home. They set up in the living room together with all the pillows and blankets in the house and a pile of snacks they ordered from the grocery store. Akira put a romcom on the TV and started painting Goro's nails."I've never done this before," Goro admitted. The feeling of the nail polish was cool against her nails. Akira's hand, keeping hers steady, was warm."I have. A few times." She dipped the brush back in the bottle. "I had a friend who enjoyed it.""Ah. I thought this was rather feminine for you."Akira glanced at her through her glasses. "Am I not feminine?""Not in a frilly way, I suppose." She wrinkled her nose. "I've never been fond of it, anyway.""But you're having fun now?"She watched Akira coat another nail cherry red. It was a red she associated with her, the kind she looked fascinating in. "I am."Akira put away the polish and they curled up on the couch together. She was wearing a tank top, so her bare skin pressed against Goro's arm.The woman on screen was berating the male lead for something."She should break up with him," Goro said. Akira hummed. She set her head on Goro's shoulder, with their hair pushed out of the way so her cheek was warm against her neck. The plastic of her glasses was cool.Akira shifted. Her breath ghosted over Goro's collar bone. The glasses poked her cheek.She couldn't focus on the movie anymore. The poking was too irritating. She turned and lifted Akira's chin with one hand, using the other to remove the glasses."There."It felt strange to see her without the glasses. Sure, she never wore them around her father, but then she had a different mask in place. With the glasses stripped, too, her face was… oddly vulnerable. She stared up at her, eyes just a touch wider, lips slightly parted."The… glasses were poking me," she explained. Her face was so close.Akira's skin was hot through her hand. Was it always this hot? She was flushing. Turning cherry red.Goro let the glasses fall unconsciously. Her fingers twitched.Like magnets, they drew together.She couldn't hear the movie past the blood rushing in her ears. She couldn't think of anything besides the unbelievably soft lips against hers.Her other hand came up to cradle Akira's face as well, to hold her even closer. She licked lightly against Goro's upper lip. She needed more.They broke apart to breathe, then just stared at each other, chests heaving. Her nervous system ignited.Suddenly, she was shoving Akira away, scrambling off the couch. "You—" she said. She didn't even know what she wanted to say, just that this couldn't be happening. She felt like a deer that had run into an electric fence. Her shoulders were hunched up to her ears."You would kiss me with the same lips you suck my father's dick with? Are you fucking insane? Did you plan this, you crazy bitch? What—how the hell could you do that?"Akira was staring at her, all blood drained from her face. She looked so pathetic sitting there, mouth open, hair mussed, bra strap falling off her shoulder. The only light to illuminate her was the TV screen, playing on uncaringly.Finally, she found her voice, weak as it was."Don't tell him," she begged.…A hysterical laugh rose out of her throat. "Don't worry, I'll leave your husband out of this," she crooned. She turned on her heel to leave. "Dumb slut," she spat behind her. — She was going to the kitchen to get a late night snack when she heard a tone of voice that turned her blood into ice."—is this for?"He didn't need to raise his voice or growl and snarl to make you feel small—though he still would, on occasion. No, he was a master when it came to the skill of measured disapproval. "Goro and I like it."Despite herself, she edged closer to listen. Akira sounded like her voice might give out at any moment."Goro can get her own coffee her damn self."The palpable disgust with which he said her name made her nauseous. But really, what was another rejection on top of every other moment of her unnecessary life?"...if I'm making it already—""This is an insult."There was always the implied threat lurking under the surface. Measured disapproval, just barely held back due to his own patience. If you used up the grace he had given you, god help you."...""I dragged your miserable ass out of the garbage, and yet you keep finding ways to play at poverty behind my back. Where is your gratitude?""... I'm sorry .""You can do better than that.""...""Gratitude, I said.""Thank you, Shido-sama.""That's a start. When I come back, this barista shit better be in the garbage." "I understand."Unable to stomach it any longer, she escaped back to her room. — Sonozaki was replaced. — They didn't talk anymore. — Goro barely had the degree in her hand before her father pulled her into his office. "Don't you think it's time you lived on your own?" — Public Security was suspiciously enthusiastic in their response to her application. Another thing for him to hold over her head.It didn't matter. She needed the access to restricted materials, the authority to interview suspects. She would take the job and swallow her pride for the sake of bringing him down.It was a plan years in the making, and one she was prepared to wait many, many more to compile the evidence for. She would have her revenge on the man who killed her mother.He would probably divorce Akira before then.Not that she cared. — One of her coworkers was Nijima's older sister, and she became, begrudgingly, her favorite. No one else was as ambitious or as experienced in being a woman in a male-dominated field.She was in a bad mood 80% of the time, but she still took her to get drinks on occasion. On one such occasion, her younger sister met them at the bar. When their eyes met, she saw a horror unfold in her expression that no doubt mirrored her own.Mechanically, Makoto turned to her sister. "Sis. You brought a guest."Sae was either oblivious or ambivalent to the awkward energy, instead making herself comfortable in the booth. "This is my coworker, Shido," she said offhandedly. "She could use some more friends her age."Her face went hot. Sae was immediately demoted from favorite coworker."I don't appreciate this sort of meddling, Nijima," she said, keeping her tone light. "Besides, we already know each other."Sae raised her eyebrows."You do? I hadn't heard about this.""...yes," Makoto admitted, face crumpling with reticence. "We attended the same undergraduate program."Sae clapped her hands. "Great, then you already have something in common. I'm going to go order for us."They were abandoned.There was a long moment where she thought they had mutually agreed to silence. She started poking at her phone, pretending to send emails. "...your father is Shido Masayoshi."She tried not to cringe too visibly, but didn't bother hiding her sigh as she set her phone back down."That is correct.""Then, your stepmother is…""Stepmother is misleading. Akira is a year younger than me." She crossed her arms. "Did you want something?"Strangely, Makoto didn't react to her icy tone. In the limited experience she had with the woman, she was remarkably easy to provoke, but at the moment, she only stared at her hands. "Is she happy?"The question knocked her thoroughly off-balance. Her filter momentarily disappeared."Would you be?"Makoto shrank on herself."...I don't personally know Diet member Shido," she murmured."Well, since you're so curious, I'll save you the trouble of meeting him. He's an awful father and likely a worse husband. My mother killed herself to get away from him. Does that answer your question?"Makoto blanched. She got out of her seat with a jolt."I need to—I'll be right back."She grabbed her purse and all but sprinted for the restroom.Sae came around with their drinks. She slid Goro's usual order across the table. Her face was creased with worry. "Is Makoto alright?"Goro smiled politely. "I believe she had to make use of the facilities. She'll be back shortly."When she returned, she made an excuse about not feeling well, and needing to go home. Sae decided to escort her, despite her protests. There was nothing for Goro to do at the bar alone except sulk and sip soda water, so they went together to the train station. They walked in silence, then separated with polite goodbyes.Sae didn't make a second attempt to form a bond between them, so she never learned the source of Makoto's bizarre fascination with her father's wife. — She gained a minor following after a television interview drew attention to her, and the director was only too happy to make her lean into it to represent public security. She was given a publicist and forced to make a public instagram account. On a certain occasion, she was startled by a flurry of likes from an account named Akira, but it was an unrelated woman.She sat in the bathtub and stared at the ceiling, heavily reconsidering her sobriety. — Apparently, her fans were predominantly female. She wasn't the detective prince for nothing, it seemed.She noticed this at a fan event—her publicity was a bartering chip for more evidence, more leeway in her investigation, so such sacrifices were necessary.Akira, the one that had shocked her by the appearance of her name in her notifications, had honey blond hair that framed her face with artificial curls. Her eyes were dark brown. She giggled when Goro shook her hand.She fucked her in a love hotel a week later. — Akira (the other one) wanted something serious. She told her she couldn't afford to get too close, as a detective, especially one so well-known. Anyone she loved could be used against her by criminals. She painted a picture of a dark room, a resentful mafia lackey cutting off fingertips to send in the mail.Akira (the wrong one) ate it up. Her lashes dampened with tears. She told Goro she shouldn't have to be alone, even still. In her mind, she saw silver eyes that gave her a flat look, not buying any of it. Goro took her hand and told her, with as much pathos as she could manage, that she didn't want her to get hurt."You're such a lovely person."Bullshit. "I chose this life, and I have no regrets."Bullshit."I won't let someone else get hurt for my selfishness." Bullshit. They parted ways for the last time. She couldn't afford a scandal, so she had to lie. If she could have, she would have told her the truth. I don't give a shit about you. Then, maybe she'd get what she deserved. — Somewhere in her father's vacation house, there was a box with her mother's suicide note.She hid it in the floorboards as a paranoid 9 year old. Before that moment, she'd kept it on her person at all times, so her father wouldn't find it. That wasn't good enough, though. What if it fell out of her pocket? What if a servant noticed it while tucking her into bed?There were security cameras, but only for the outside. No one would know if she hid it here. It was safer than at home, with her father and his servants always looking out for the slightest misbehavior.She hadn't been there in years, and the guilt of leaving it behind was getting to her. That, and it was evidence. He covered it up as a sudden illness. Another lie she would expose to the public.The taxi dropped her off a short walk to the house. Despite the exurban location, there were a few houses in the area. Typical cabins in the woods—though far more expensive than the typical person could dream. She didn't need the driver knowing exactly which she visited: the plausible deniability was necessary if someone found out she'd been there while her father was at home. She followed the road up into the mountains. — It was supposed to be quick. Get in, get out. She only needed to grab the box, and she'd be done. Contrary to her expectations, her father's sports car was in the driveway, but all the lights were off. This could still work. They were probably asleep. If Goro was quick, she could do this without them even knowing she was there.An owl hooted. Get in, get out.She knew the code to the front door, of course. Then across the foyer, up the stairs… Get in, get out."Oh."She turned right, and saw her. Akira in a nightie, drenched in blood. It was smeared across her cheek, too, and all over her hands, one of which was clutching a bloody kitchen knife.Her eyes were dilated. She was breathing heavily. The house was dead silent. Goro brushed past her and into the main bedroom. The door was cracked open. She turned the light on, and the scene came into stark clarity.Her father's body lay supine on the bed in a pool of his own blood. His neck and chest had been turned into sashimi. Akira was standing behind her. Her mouth twitched in a sad attempt at a smile. "Do I get a headstart, for old times' sake?"Goro felt cold. She felt as if she had been pitched off a cliff, hurtling toward the point of no return. "What did you do?" Akira sat herself on the floor so her back rested against the end of the bed, back to the fresh corpse of her husband. Her eyes, so dark with exhaustion, met hers without hesitation."I ran out of options." — Akira told her a story. It went like this:She was a rebellious teenager. She enjoyed a thrill of breaking the rules. In a poor attempt to get her parents' attention, she acted out and took greater and greater risks, until they got sick of her.She never got more than a slap on the wrist, but as her petty crimes stacked up, a judge suggested that a change in environment would do her good, and her parents were only too happy to send her packing. Her move to Tokyo changed everything. She had friends, hobbies, a cat, and something approaching an actual parental figure in the man who accepted her as an adhoc "parole officer."She had plans. She was going to make something out of herself. Despite her misfit beginnings, she had somewhere she belonged.In the summer of her 3rd year, she was covering a shift for a friend at a bar when a man approached her.She turned him down point blank—and Goro already could see how it ended. Her father craved nothing more than what was denied to him.He found her again, days later, and showed her a folder full of every stupid mistake she'd made back home. No one would want a petty criminal like her around—and if he just so happened to accuse her of something, the prosecutor could use this to drag her name through the dirt. That wasn't enough to break her, but there was more.Her friends. Her family. All their futures, ruined. Ann's modeling career, Makoto's dream of law school, Sojiro's cafe. He could rip them all to shreds like so much tissue paper. He didn't even need to prove he could hurt them. The amount of information he collected on them in a few days was enough. Akira couldn't risk it. She wouldn't.So quietly, she finished her third year, and quietly, she packed her bags, and left. The only saving grace was that it had almost been over."He lost interest in me. If I waited a little longer, he probably would have served me papers. I would have waited. I've waited so long, I didn't care if he slapped me with an NDA, or left me penniless, so long as I was free. But then… he took me to this party, and I saw her."Her face morphed as she became incandescent with rage."She was so young, this poor waitress. And he put his hand up her skirt in front of everyone—she apologized to me! To me!"I realized that nothing would change, because even if he let me go, it would only be to torture some other girl in my place. I decided it ends with me."Looking at the woman she left to rot in her father's house, at the fire in her eyes that had dimmed and shrank but never went out, Goro was lost for words.All of her feelings combined so strongly that she flew straight past them and into numbness."What was your plan for after this?" She said, finally.Akira looked at her blankly."Your plan. What is it?"As if coming out of a stupor, her expression changed."Uh. Run away and become a fugitive or die, I guess."Goro pinched the bridge of her nose. The exasperation that came over her was so familiar that she felt warm, despite it all."Well, we'll have to do better than that.""We…?""I'm helping you, obviously."Akira smiled honestly, lopsided and bright. "Really?" She breathed.The rush of heat her expression brought to Goro's face reminded her why she left in the first place. "I can't let him steal your future even in death." — Together, they sat on the bedroom floor and planned her father's murder. Akira was giggly. Apparently she had a glass or two of wine in her pursuit of getting her father shitfaced before bed. "Pay attention," Goro said. She kept having to suppress her own giggles. It was contagious."I missed you so much," Akira said dreamily. Goro froze, recalibrated, moved on. "Yes, alright, I missed you too, but we have to do this quickly."The story goes like this:A disgruntled citizen blames diet member Shido Masayoshi for his problems. He starts stalking him and his family. He follows the couple to their vacation home and sneaks in behind them. He takes a knife from the kitchen—"It would have been better if you got a knife from somewhere else. If he's committing murder, then he should already have a knife on him.""It's called on-site procurement. Like in Metal Gear Solid.""… Sigh." —and lies in wait. He attacks them at their most vulnerable, in the bedroom after they've already been drinking. He attacks Shido in a rage, then his wife. In her delirium, she attempts to stop her husband's bleeding, but only ends up soaked in his blood.Unbeknownst to the intruder, Shido's daughter has come by to get something. They have a scuffle, then he jumps out the window and dashes into the forest. Obviously, as a detective, Goro is obligated to climb out and chase after him."Don't pull your punches. No scratching, you don't want my DNA under your fingernails."Akira shuffled into a fighting stance. "Okay… sorry, I haven't been in a fight in a while."Goro paused. "What? How long is a while?"Akira socked her in the jaw.She could have dodged easily. But that was against the point. Still, she put up her arms in a defensive position.Akira whaled on her for a while. As promised, she wasn't very good at it. All that mattered was that Goro was roughed up when the police found her.A few minutes later, she spat blood onto the floor, and cracked her neck."Okay, your turn."Akira sat next to the body, arranging herself as naturally as if she were just lounging in bed.Goro shoved her onto the floor with a rough jab of her elbow. "Oof." She rubbed her collarbone. "I think you bruised me.""Good. Are you ready?"Goro brandished the knife. This was the part where the killer, caught mid-assault, abandoned the knife and made for the window. Akira grinned up at her, flushed and gorgeous and covered in blood."Always."Goro took a deep breath. Her hands could not afford to tremble now. If she hit an artery and Akira went into shock-"Goro."Akira's hand came up to gently cradle her chin. "I trust you."Her left hand went to Goro's right, and interlaced their fingers. Any words to refute her died on her lips.Goro felt safe. She felt warm. She felt like her heart was going to explode out of her chest, and the most relaxed she'd been since the last time she touched her. She plunged the knife into Akira's thigh.Akira screamed. It was beautiful, loud and clear like a siren. The kind of noise that could cut through miles of fog. It was so raw and agonizing that Goro felt the phantom pain of the knife in her leg.Hopefully someone else would hear it. It would corroborate their story.The scream died, transforming into the rough, gravelly sound that was more typical of Akira. She started panting, then inhaled, swallowed, sighed. "Don't move too much," Goro said. Without meaning to, she rubbed her thumb over Akira's forehead, wiping a bead of sweat. Her leg was bleeding, but not nearly as bad as if they took the knife out. Goro's gloves had effectively removed any fingerprints from the handle. Still, if Akira's fingerprints did appear, it wouldn't be that strange when it had been buried in her leg. "I'm okay," she said, nuzzling into the hand. Embarrassed, Goro pulled back, but Akira grabbed her wrist. "Kiss for luck before you go?"The air sparkled with endorphins. Breathing in, she got a lungful of wine and iron. Akira was bleeding from the knife Goro put in her leg, and she was smiling at her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered. She kissed her, quick and firm, then put her phone in her hand.Akira wasted no time. She inhaled, then hit call.Her words came out all in a rush. "Hello-? I need help, I need—oh god, my husband—honey? Please, honey—" she cut herself off with a shriek and sob. Her voice trembled and wavered as she panted between words."No—I can't move, my leg—he's not breathing, you need to come save him—no, I don't know!"She was so consumed by the character, it was as if Goro wasn't even in the room.
She's incredible.
When Akira saw her still standing there, she flapped her hand urgently. Get out. She just needed to trust her. No matter how badly she wanted to stay, and make sure she didn't get hurt any worse than she already was—she had to go. She climbed out the window and dropped onto the ground, then tore off in a random direction. As she ran, she listened to the sound of Akira's hysterical sobs getting further and further away. — The woods in this area weren't particularly dense, but it was still fairly easy to get lost in them. That was how, as determined as she was to catch her father's killer, Goro ended up alone in the forest, unable to find her way out.The worst part was waiting. The longer she waited, the more she became convinced that Akira was going to go into shock, and she would never see her again. Before today, the thought of never seeing Akira again would have brought a pang of sadness, but an ultimate feeling that it was for the better. Now, it felt impossible.There was no one in the universe who had or would understand her more than Akira. And she left her. Twice!How could she begin to explain herself? How could she ever ask Akira not to go?God, and did she really think this harebrained scheme would work? Now she was an accessory to murder, and they were both going to prison, and it was all over.There was rustling, and flickering lights through the trees. Something barked.Search dogs. "I'm here!" She called. In a short while, the search party descended on her. She recognized a few faces."Did you find him?" She asked. Her heartbeat was in her ears.They grimly asserted no;Her father's killer had not been found. — She gave them the description she and Akira agreed upon as they escorted her back to the house.If her words came out jumbled, that was only better. She was in shock, right now. Her father had been brutally murdered. (Really, she was just anxious to see Akira.)When she finally spotted her in the back of an ambulance, it took all her willpower not to pounce.A collection of EMTs were checking her over. Her leg was wrapped in bandages. She had a shock blanket on.She swallowed her frustration as they made her sit down away from her, checked over her wounds, forced a cup of water into her hands. A few officers left the house carrying a bodybag. It felt like it hadn't been real until that moment.She watched her mother get carried out in a bodybag, too. She was screaming, but someone—a police officer, a servant—was holding her back. That had been the worst day of her life. It was the beginning of a noose around her neck, but now that noose was gone. Someone was softly telling her that they hadn't been able to resuscitate him. He was dead when they arrived. They handed her tissues. "I'm not…" but her cheeks were covered in tears. She was free. And she was so, so angry that she never got to make him apologize. She felt 15 years old again, boiling with rage against the man that took her mother's life. I should have been here. I should have stabbed him six more times.
I should have killed him ten years ago. He should never have touched Akira at all.
He should have told me he was proud, even once. The tide ebbed. The bag disappeared into the back of another ambulance. Goro couldn't feel anything anymore. She just wanted to go home. — Her father's horrific, untimely death ignited the nation. His supporters mourned publicly. There were dozens of debates about violence, rising crime rates. Speculation over the identity of his assassin was a new pastime for true crime fanatics and political pundits alike. His grieving family was Very Sad. Almost inconsolable. ("Do you think I'll be laying it on too thick if I let my mascara get all fucked up?" Akira said, seriously considering a handful of products. She scoffed. "They'll eat it up anyway.")The funeral was a spectacle bordering on tasteless (just like the bastard's entire career). Goro held a rehearsed speech, as did a few of his dear friends and colleagues, who were in the midst of a power vacuum and making the most of the subsequent airtime.Akira, obviously, was in too much grief to speak. She received countless condolences and a few loaded suggestions of comfort. She accepted them graciously, albeit quietly. —
Does anybody else feel like the wife did it
No way!! Shido wouldn't let that happen!!
Which Shido? I'm getting confused.
The Detective Prince!!!
No she totally did it look
[Image id: Shido Masayoshi and his wife. He is smiling but she is not.]
I'm just saying there weren't any other witnesses…
"They aren't wrong," Akira hummed."That is the problem."Goro paced the room back and forth. She knew this might happen—neither the public nor the Tokyo Police Department would be satisfied without a suspect, and their story was far from bulletproof."We can't exactly get a scapegoat out of nowhere… and the more we complicate the lie, the more likely we'll be found out."Back and forth, back and forth."The best we can do is distract them from it… a scandal might work, but we can't make ourselves any more suspicious."Not like her father was lacking in scandals. Mindlessly, her eye drifted to the box she had gone out to get in the first place. Ah. Aha…"If the police had to answer for, say, a massive conspiracy, that might be enough to put his murder on the back-burner."Akira perked up."I've been working on exposing Shido's corruption for a long time, but I've never had enough backing to protect me from his retaliation…"She frowned. "Ugh, but if I push it now, I'll be accused of disrespecting the dead. A disloyal daughter is practically worse than a murderer.""What if someone else leaked it?" She stopped."Like who?" — They were sitting in a motel room. They had been hopping hotels while avoiding the house they supposedly lived in.Akira had an unreadable expression. She was trembling. "You're sure about this?"Akira nodded stiffly. "This is the only number I have memorized."She laughed to herself, like ha ha ha… Goro put on speakerphone, then hit the call button.It rang once."He should be at the counter right now," Akira said, tremulously.Twice."Maybe he's in the other room," Goro suggested. There were so many reasons this might not work that it was pointless to mention any.Three times.
Click.
"Hello?"Akira shuddered next to her. 10 seconds passed in silence. Her mouth was open, but no sound was coming out. Her face blanched. "Hello?" The voice repeated, a touch gruffer.Goro swallowed to clear her throat, then, in her nicest detective voice, said:"Hello, is this Sakura-san?"
"Who is this?"
"This is Shido Goro. I'm calling on behalf of Shido Akira. I need to get in contact with Sakura Futaba."There was a plastic clattering noise."Akira? Is she with you? Is she safe?!" She glanced at Akira. Tears were gathering in her eyes. "You have my word that she is safe. She's just having difficulty speaking right now. Could you pass on my number to your younger daughter?"" ...are you listening, Akira?" Akira clutched Goro's arm, buried her face in her shoulder. Her call, then."She is."There was a long sigh. "Whenever you want… you're always welcome to come home. We love you. "Akira sobbed.Goro really, really didn't belong here, but Akira had fused herself bodily to her arm. She coughed."We're working on it. My number is…"
"Wait, wait, I need to get paper."
Once he had the number written down, Goro briskly bid farewell and shut down the call. Akira was still crying on her arm.Stiffly, she patted her shoulder. "There. That should be all worked out now, yes?"Akira sniffled. She felt her head shifting in a nod.No sign that she felt better. Goro waffled."Well, it seems you have somewhere to go after this. That's good, isn't it."Her hands tightened on her arm. She suppressed a sigh. Great job, Goro. Very comforting . An hour and a can of coffee later, Akira found her voice again.She stuck her tongue out. "Gross." An overwhelming relief filled her stomach. She smiled teasingly. "I'm sorry, I know it's not up to your exacting standards, but the vending machine was strangely lacking in French pressed espresso."The burner started buzzing. Akira stared at it like it might explode. Just as she was starting to calm down again. She had half a mind to flush the damn thing down the toilet. But that would make the entire thing pointless. [Is it really you?] With unexpected confidence, Akira took the phone from her hands and started typing. [Hi, Oracle
We need your help
Akira!¡!!!!!!!!!
Oh my god
What's wrong what can I do
Goro has evidence against Masayoshi but she can't break the story herself
Holy shit
I have been fucking trying to bury this asshole for years of course I'm on board
Tell her Medjed is at her command]
Goro raised her eyebrows from where she was reading over her shoulder."You weren't kidding… when you said your little sister was a hacker I wasn't expecting this."Akira smiled, all private and self-assured.
[I'm going to hand you over to her now
Please be nice
I am so nice I am the nicest???
Wait wait wait
?
Is she cool
Like I know you guys have been doing all those media appearances together or whatever but like
Is she like helping you and stuff]
Akira paused for a moment, then went back in with renewed vigor.
[She saved my life.]
Goro's heart thumped painfully.If that was how Akira felt, there was no reason why Goro should correct her. In fact, if she wanted Akira to let her stay, it was essential that she left that delusion in place. Akira turned around. When their eyes met, she felt a prickle in her chest."Here. Do your detective thing." — Futaba's "calling card" went off like a bomb. The accusations were shocking, with just enough insider knowledge to make Tokyo PD sweat. With the number of people implicated by it, the media was in a frenzy.Goro stepped up to the podium."I am shocked and saddened by the charges brought forward against Shido Masayoshi, my father."Cameras flashed. Journalists whispered."To receive this news so shortly after his tragic and untimely death has made a difficult time even worse."My father was a complicated man. I won't deny this. But I still ask for your patience and consideration of my family during this time of grief."Despite my own admiration for him—no, because of my admiration for the man I knew him as, I will be cooperating with the police 100%. As a member of public security, I depend upon your trust in my ability to uphold justice. For this reason, I will be uncompromising in my search for the truth. I only hope that my actions will bring comfort to those who were victimized by his wrongful actions."She bowed deeply. — Part one of exorcising Shido's ghost was selling all his shit. The vacation home was currently off-limits, and would probably become the site of many an urban legend.His home in Tokyo, though, that needed to be gone, yesterday. They were living in a hotel meanwhile. It was a nice hotel (part two of exorcising Shido's ghost was spending his money).Goro was on her laptop auctioning off Shido's most obnoxious art pieces. Akira was in the bathroom."Goro.""Hm?""Come help me."She was standing in front of the mirror, feet surrounded by a circle of trimmed curls. She brandished a pair of household scissors in her right hand.Her hair was as much a mess as it had always been and more. She had clearly been hacking at it without rhyme or reason, creating an uneven haircut just above her shoulders. It should have looked much worse than it did, but Akira's hair was already a beast with its own will. The messiness became intentional, became charming.Goro slid her hand over Akira's, gripping the scissors the same way she did. Akira let her get a hold of them, then disentangled her hand. She took the scissors into her dominant hand. Peering over her shoulder, she got a look at how their heights compared. Akira was just a touch shorter than her, but the advantage made her competitive side purr victoriously."How short do you want it?" She met Akira's eyes through the mirror."Can you do a pixie cut?"She spent a while hemming over reference photos online, then finally put her phone down. "We'd need clippers to get the back this short," she said. "Just do your best."Goro frowned. She carded her fingers through Akira's hair thoughtfully."Well, I can't make it worse than it already is.""Exactly ."Her hands hovered."Do you really want me to do this?""Mhm."
Fuck it.
She didn't know how hairdressers did it, but she could at least approximate the shape of what Akira asked for. Haphazardly cut chunks fell to the floor. The scissors were sharp, so there wasn't much difficulty in cutting as she pleased. Akira's smile was growing in the mirror.When she turned her around to get the front, her silver eyes followed her. It was hard to focus when she could feel them burn into her face. "Close your eyes," she snapped. "You'll get hair in them."Akira did as she asked.Once she went from broad strokes to minor details, it became a matter of perfectionism. Time slowed to a crawl. Her eye twitched over microscopic issues.She fidgeted and edited and finally slammed the scissors onto the counter. No more. "There. Good enough for you?"Akira opened her eyes and looked at her new reflection for the first time. She rustled around in her pocket and got her glasses—with those on, she became unrecognizable. She stared at the mirror, eyes huge and glossy. She shook her head slightly, watching how easily her hair moved.Goro watched from the back of the room, tapping her hand against her thigh impatiently. "If you aren't satisfied—""It's perfect."The knot in her stomach unraveled. She was still trying to fit this new image in her head alongside the old one. Akira had hair down to her mid-back, thick and heavy as a pelt. In a matter of minutes, that was all gone. The Akira she knew was a prop for Shido, a shiny toy. Goro knew well the ways in which one could cut themselves down to be easier for others to swallow. "I don't really know you at all, do I?"She didn't realize she had said it out loud until Akira turned back to look at her. "It just occurs to me, at this moment. I've only known you under someone else's control."Akira's smile soured. "Me too."She clenched and unclenched her fists. Her words took the light out of Akira's eyes so thoughtlessly. "Do you—would you want to see me again, after this?"Akira's eyes widened. She knew she shouldn't have asked, shouldn't have said anything at all, but it was too late."You have your family to get back to, after all. I wouldn't blame you if my presence was… undesirable."It wouldn't be the first time. She was a cursed child. The one who tethered her mother to that man, the one he would never accept as an heir."I admit, I'm not—"Akira grabbed the front of her shirt, stopping her in her tracks."Are you leaving?" She whispered.Those same eyes that had been delighted just moments ago were now frenzied with terror."I… not right now, but when we separate-"Her grip tightened, twisting the fabric. Her face was pale."Don't go."What an odd moment to see herself reflected back. It pulled at the desperate, cavernous empty , the aching, maddening loneliness of someone thrown away over and over.When she didn't respond, Akira put her face against her chest, and she felt the dampness from her tears."I can't do it. I can't do it without you."Her mouth pressed into a thin line. It was like the prey she had been stalking put her heart on a plate and held it out for her. The red flesh glistened and pulsed, still fat with blood, veins so deliciously plump, and said please, please take it.The carnivore in her salivated.The rest of her held back, screaming don't, don't, don't. Akira didn't understand. She wasn't thinking. "I abandoned you. I hurt you." Goro spoke weakly.She felt like a single touch might turn her eggshell-thin defenses into dust. "I don't care. Stay."And because Goro was the selfish kind of monster, her resolve shattered, and she clutched Akira as tight to her body as she could."I'll stay," she whispered, running her fingers through her freshly-shorn hair.When Akira asked to sleep in her bed, she let her in. Akira wrapped her arms around her waist, and she held back just as tightly. — It was another month before Akira felt safe to go out in public. Their inheritance was still a nightmare to sort through, but things were getting boxed and neatly put away bit by bit. Goro had begged off work for a decent chunk of time, but she knew it wouldn't last much longer. She anticipated her return with a certain amount of dread and excitement. If she thought selling the house was difficult, returning to the world she had turned upside down was going to be another thing entirely.The Shido name was no longer a benefit. It was, if anything, a black mark against her. It was almost satisfying to see others so repulsed by her father, but at the same time, she didn't appreciate being lumped in with him.While it wouldn't change anything materially, taking back her name would be a relief.She and Akira went to the notary together, filling out the same forms in parallel. She peered over her shoulder. "Akechi?"She hummed. "My mother's maiden name. I've always preferred it."She smiled in that way that meant she had an awful joke to tell. "Now you're really a detective."She scoffed."...maybe I should take that name, too.""Don't be ridiculous." Akira had stalled in her progress, skipping over and around the name she would actually be changing to."My maiden name is Kurusu," she said, quiet. "But I haven't spoken to my parents since they sent me to Tokyo.""...I don't understand why you're hesitating. You quite clearly told me who your family is.""...what if they don't want me anymore?"Goro stared at her for a long moment. Frustration and sickening empathy swirled in her gut. "... Then you can take my name, if you want. But don't give up before you've tried."She bit her lip and nodded.She wrote, in her scratchy handwriting, Sakura Akira. — "There's a lot of cats," she mused idly. "Mmm."Yogen Jaya was calm at night. Definitely more relaxed than Goro's neighborhood—she had to sleep with headphones.An orange tabby brushed along Akira's leg as they went. Right up ahead, there was LeBlanc. This was where Akira learned to cook, where she lived in highschool. She tried to imagine a younger, smaller Akira trotting up to the door in her uniform, school bag over her shoulder.The sign said 'open'.Goro nudged Akira ahead of herself. She gave her a comically betrayed look, then took a deep breath.When she opened the door, a bell rang.There was a middle-aged man behind the counter, cleaning the surface with a rag. His eyes shot wide."I'm home," she called. Her voice cracked. — Sakura closed the shop right away and took them back to his house. There was a scrawny girl with long orange hair standing outside it, doubled over and breathing heavily like she'd been running.When she looked up and saw them approach, she looked just like her father had."Akira!" She shrieked. She sprinted at them. By instinct, Goro put her arm up in front of Akira, but she gently nudged it aside. "It's okay."Reluctantly trusting her judgement, she stepped to the side in time for the girl to make impact."Oof." Seeing the girl who helped her ruin her father in person was startling. She was a little less than a head shorter than Akira. Perhaps 16 years old?Futaba dragged Akira into the house. She talked so quickly that Goro parsed exactly none of it. A glance at Sakura told her this was about expected.She was the last one in, of course. She didn't want to leave Akira alone, but the others were thoroughly distracted by her. She slipped off her shoes in the entryway, quietly saying excuse me for the intrusion to no one.By the time she got to them, all three of them were curled in the couch. Sakura was cradling her head in his arms, with Futaba on her other side. She was bawling like Goro had never seen her before. "I was so ashamed…" She went out of sight back into the foyer, and answered emails on her phone until they were concluded. She didn't want to watch them anymore. — Akira moved back in with the Sakuras, and started right up again with her old barista job.Sakura was hesitant, but she insisted. Goro knew, too, how badly she had longed for it. She couldn't exactly live with Akira in that tiny attic, especially with her boss at public security breathing down her neck, and the media champing at the bit to get her on tape, but she did as much work remotely as she could.Goro set herself up in the booth in the upper right corner, where she could see practically everything.Her second day doing this, Akira had run upstairs for something when a rough-looking man came in. When he spotted her, he glowered.Goro steeled herself.He stomped over, hands in his pockets. He had the lean, stretched out look of a runner.The lean ones could be the most dangerous."Hey. You're Shido, ain't cha?"She didn't manage to suppress the flinch. She was getting tired of this sort of thing."It's Akechi, actually. Can I help you?"His frown deepened."No, I saw you on TV and shit. You're Shido."She smiled Politely. Her nerves were crawling with the desire to cave this motherfucker's face in. "Due to personal reasons, I had my name changed."The man hmphed. "You should know where Akira is, and shit, right?"Oh, no. Oh, no, this would not do at all."And why," she said, rising out of her seat, "would such information be pertinent to you?"When she stood up straight, she was clearly taller than him. It may have been due to his awful posture, but she would take the advantage. She took a few slow steps forward, pushing him back towards the door.His eyebrows furrowed. "Listen man, just tell me where she is.""I don't think I will, man."His mouth fell open. He looked shocked by her audacity to not fulfill his command. "What the hell, dude?"A vein in her neck jumped. "How did you find me? Did you see me through the window, or was there something else?""Woah, what the fuck is your problem? I don't care about you, I'm just looking for Akira."Goro cracked her knuckles. "Wrong answer." "What's going on?"Akira had come down the stairs, eyes innocently wide. Goro stiffened. Fuck. "Akira, it's not safe-""Oh my god, RYUJI?" She popped up beside her, shoving her aside. The man's face changed completely when he smiled. He looked overjoyed. "Akira, dude!"He picked her up and swung her around in a circle, making her laugh hysterically. Goro stood against the wall, feeling wrong-footed."This is Ryuji!" Akira said, once she got her breath back. "He was my best friend in highschool." Just best friend?She grabbed Goro's hand, then turned back around to her friend. "This is G— Akechi , she saved my life."The proud thing inside her purred relentlessly against her will.Ryuji looked at her like he was seeing her for the first time. "Yeah? Well, shit, dude, thanks.""...you're welcome."He scratched the back of his head. "I guess I didn't think bout how I sounded when I came in here. Sorry for uh, freakin' you out and stuff."She glanced at Akira, who was smiling so brightly at her that any resolve against him melted."I accept your apology, but I did not freak out.""You kind of were, man. I thought you were going to freakin' kill me.""However I reacted, it would have been an appropriate choice regarding the situation."He looked back at Akira. "I thought it was just for TV, but she totally talks like a dictionary.""Hehe, yeah." — That moment heralded the revolving door of old friends and confidantes that overtook LeBlanc.The local doctor, an international model, an acclaimed artist, a journalist (who Goro very nearly killed on sight), a teenager with a sour face that quickly broke down into tears, Makoto Nijima, a fortune-teller from the red light district, Makoto FUCKING Nijima??? "We attended the same undergraduate program," Nijima stiffly told Akira, while Goro wondered how many times she would be forced to play nice with her least favorite classmate. "Great, so you're already friends," Akira responded, evidently ignoring the mortified expression Goro shot her over Makoto's head. After a brief awkward silence, she said;"I was led to believe Akira was something of a troublemaker in highschool. I'm surprised someone as buttoned-up as you got along with her.""Makoto reformed me," Akira said, interrupting Nijima as she opened her mouth. Nijima sighed heavily. "That was the official statement, at least. In my opinion, it was more the other way around. I would have been a lost cause if it weren't for her." She turned to Akira and took her hands, causing an instant spike in Goro's blood pressure."You always had it in you," Akira said, enigmatic as always. "Still, you…" she started tearing up. Her voice came out choked, but she was too stubborn to let it go. "You gave me a chance no one else did. And I never… I never got to help you the way you helped me.""It's okay, Makoto," she said, voice soft. "It's not. None of it is." She let go of one of her hands to rub at her persistently leaking eyes. A little while later, Makoto had to take her leave, albeit with firm promises of further meetings and a business card with her updated contact information thrust into Akira's hand. Despite being a sobbing mess so shortly before, when she left her back was straight and her head raised. The sense of professionalism was very Sae. Goro looped her arm around Akira's waist as she stood at her side, delighting perversely when Akira softened into her hold. "Makoto has a strong sense of responsibility," she murmured, letting her head fall onto Goro's shoulder. "It must have been really hard for her when she couldn't do anything."A win for Goro over Nijima, then. Another in a long line of victories. She would keep it to herself, this time. It would be insensitive to bring it up.Still, she enjoyed the knowledge that she had helped Akira when Makoto couldn't. — The climax of the whole thing was a highschool reunion. Of sorts. Makoto, Takamaki, Okumura (who had not been able to make an appearance until then) and Sakamoto were from the same highschool, at least. Futaba and Kitagawa were distinctly not . Goro monitored, as she always did, from the back of the cafe. Akira would occasionally give her a private look, as if commiserating or sharing a secret, but mostly she was too distracted by her friends to give her much mind. If she thought Akira ever glowed before, it had nothing on this, right here. That was like comparing a single candle to a whole chandelier. She seemed perfectly happy to just sit and let her companions banter in circles around her, reminiscing on a time Goro had no reference point for. It seemed that everyone who knew Akira had some kind of complex history with her. It occurred to her, watching them, that Akira's friends were passionate, well-connected, and/or extremely competent in their wide range of interests. Futaba alone was likely capable of more than she could imagine. It occurred to her, watching them, that they thought the world of Akira. That they delighted in her presence, that they genuinely cared for her. It occurred to her, watching them, that she didn't want to be here anymore. — "Are you alright?"Haru Okumura always dressed like she was going to France for holiday. She was an old-money kind of pretty, even though Goro knew her father's wealth had been built in a single generation. They had met a few times through virtue of their fathers' business relationship, but they never seemed to have much in common. Goro was effervescent but brittle. Haru was understated and obedient. What they did have in common was too painful to acknowledge. As they got older, they never saw much of each other at all.Haru brushed her skirt off and sat on the curb with her. Two grown women sitting on the ground."I'm angry at her," Goro admitted, teeth clenched, because if she didn't tell someone, she was going to explode. She could feel the pressure building in her chest. "This whole time, she's had all these people who would kill to protect her. If I had half of what she had—if my mother-"She became too choked to speak. Haru had no particular expression. It made her anxious."You must think I'm awful.""No," she said, shaking her head firmly. "To be honest, I felt the same."She stared up at the night sky, as if there was anything to see past the light pollution."You know, she kicked me out of her wedding?"Whatever face she made made Haru laugh. "I was the only one with a connection to his inner circle, so I took on the responsibility of trying to get in contact with her. I asked my father to take me as his plus one, but when she saw me, she got security to escort me out." She smiled wryly. "Father scolded me for behaving inappropriately—that's the story she went with, I suppose. When I got home, I started smashing things against the wall."I was so angry with her for shutting me out. I loved her. I really, really did. I still do. Of course I still do… but the nonstop rejection these past five years has been hard."No matter how badly we want to, I think none of us can really understand what she went through. Except for you."Goro huffed in immediate, shocked derision. "I didn't have to sleep in his bed." "Just don't underestimate how much you mean to her, alright?"Haru stood up, and gently brushed her knees. She looked down at Goro, framed by the warm light emanating from LeBlanc."And because she cares about you, we'll take care of you too, if you'll have us."Goro… didn't hate the sound of that.…When they came inside, Akira looked up and met her eyes with an expression so radiant she forgot she had been upset about anything at all.
— She stuck around to clean up. As little as she enjoyed the task, it satisfied the greedy monster inside her to be the last one to leave. Oh, sure, a few insisted on helping, but they would not outlast her. Eventually, they all left.With that desire sated, she prepared to leave, but Akira stopped her with nothing but a tug at her sleeve."Stay the night."Goro's heart twisted. "Are you sure?"Akira had that determined, unmovable expression she saw so rarely. It made chills go down her spine. The last time she saw it, Akira had blood on her face. "I miss you."Unable to say no, she complied. — Akira gave her some pajamas. They were roughly the same size, so all her clothes fit. They changed in the same room, as they did when hotel-hopping. She turned away, but she felt Akira's eyes on her the entire time. When they both got into bed—the bed that, according to Akira, used to be a couple crates and a mattress—she wasn't quite sure what to do with herself. Akira answered that conundrum by pulling her into her lap."Missed you," she said again, nuzzling the side of her face. They hadn't kissed since Akira's return to her family home. There had been many times since her father's death. Quietly, in the morning, as hello. Passionately, when the stress broke them both and they needed something, anything else to feel. Proof they weren't there anymore. That Akira would never have to be there again. Goro brushed her hand through her short curls. Things were different. They weren't two girls trapped in her father's home anymore, looking for a way out in each other. Her glasses were on the side table; she didn't wear them when they were alone, anymore. Akira had a life here. She didn't need Goro, but she still kept asking her to stay. Because she desperately wanted to, she did. She held her face straight when they kissed.