Chapter 3: This is how the best decisions are made


Only three nights after Makoto Niijima (successfully) managed to get Haru so drunk that she forgot her entire crusade to learn about love vicariously by the next day, (not to mention the discovery of Goro Akechi not being dead), she sat at a fancy restaurant in the heart of Tokyo with a glass full of sake upraised, a smile on her lips and a toast ringing in the air.

"To my amazing big sis," she said. "Brilliant, beautiful, and the newest addition to the winningest defensive team in Japan!"

Sae gave her a censorious look as she clinked her glass against her just-legal little sister's, but it was softened by the the corners of her mouth which kept tucking up in a little smile. "Oh, stop. I was offered the position months ago. Why are you so excited about it now?" She paused to think. "Also, is winningest even a word?"

"Is now," Makoto smirked. "And I'm so excited for you! This is so wonderful, and no one deserves it more than you. You have worked so hard for this, and brought unbelievable villains to justice. The firm would be insane if they gave it to anyone but you."

Makoto's joy was honest and infectious, and it cracked Sae's carefully kept stoic veneer. She grinned back before leaning in before quietly allowing, "Well, I'm not the only one at this table that has brought some unbelievable villains to justice. I'm certainly not the only hero at the table." She paused before admitting, "I think Mother and Father would be proud of us."

The younger Niijima had to swallow down a lump in her throat. A faint memory rose to the fore: Shido's shadow plainly, yet not unkindly, telling Haru that the dead were gone, and there was no reason to worry for him any longer. Were he correct, the dead no longer gave a damn about anything the living did.

Shido was full of bullshit, she reminded herself. "They absolutely are," she agreed. "They're watching us from Heaven, and they are so proud of what we've become."

"And for staying together," Sae agreed, in a rare moment of sentimentality. Makoto was unsure of how spiritually inclined her sister was, but even when her nature had been at its most twisted, she had never attempted to argue Makoto out of her belief that her parents were in Heaven, watching over them. That she agreed so readily now was a good sign.

"And for staying together," Makoto murmured, tearing up. "Even though we don't technically live together anymore . . ."

Sae brushed that aside. "You'd never see me, even if we did. I'll be pulling 80 hour weeks for the next few months, at least. I'm giving serious thought to sleeping on that couch in my office."

"Don't work too hard," Makoto scolded her sister. "The last thing we need is a normal breakdown. Come and spend time with Haru and I whenever you need a break!"

Sae's smile was accompanied by a gentle press of her hand. "Of course I will. And it won't be all work. I do have a standing date at Leblanc at least once a week—Sojiro-san has brewed up a new blend of coffee that a little bird has told me he's naming, 'Justice'."

"Oh, that sounds great!" The younger Niijima enthused. And then, in a quiet aside, "As long as it doesn't use elephant dung . . ."

Sae grinned and took a sip of her sake before noting, "I was just there this morning, actually, and I heard some news that I'm sure has you very happy."

"Oh?" Makoto couldn't imagine what it could be. Had Futaba accomplished something of important (and legal) note, recently? Or maybe Sojiro had won an award in the magazine Eclectic Coffee Houses of Japan?

It couldn't be that the old bane of her existence had resurfaced in a psychiatric hospital in Osaka. For one thing, neither of them would be smiling. For another, Sae would have cancelled tonight's celebratory dinner to throw him in the most heavily protected jail cell she could find.

Sae gave her the look that generally signified her younger sister was being dense for no good reason. "You know, the news that your boyfriend is moving back to Yongen-Jaya? I know you must be so excited to see him again, as it's been so hard for the last year . . . " A look of comprehension filtered over Sae's face. "Oh, were you hoping to keep that a secret from me? Don't worry, Makoto. I know that you're an adult now, doing adult things. Just promise me you'll be careful. Very careful. I'm not ready for nieces or nephews, and I know for a fact that Sojiro isn't ready for grandchildren, either."

"I—you got me, sis," Makoto said, faking a chuckle. Meanwhile, beneath her smile, her ire was building at such a rate that had Ryuji been there, he would have begun whimpering. "It's a little embarrassing to talk about, but it'll be so wonderful to have him here again."

"I've heard long distance relationships are difficult," Sae agreed, ignoring or not recognizing the warning signs of Makoto's impending rage, particularly as it wasn't directed towards her. "But as he's applied to Tokyo University, I'm hopeful he'll be here to stay. His grades were on par with yours, if I recall correctly."

Makoto nodded, but her thoughts were still divided on preserving this delightful evening with her sister—no doubt the last for the next few months, as she worked to overhaul the corruption in the current system—and marching out, calling her boyfriend, and reaming him in public for not telling her any of this.

"Yes, Akira was a presence much-missed," Sae continued, completely oblivious to her sister's dilemma. "Sojiro was over the moon to hear he'd be returning. You could tell by that sarcastic twinkle in his eye."

That was just odd enough to pull Makoto from internally fanning the fires of her rage. "Sarcastic twinkle in his eye?"

Sae nodded importantly, slightly tipsy. "Some man have it. All men want it. Sojiro's been given a gift, little sis. One can only hope he passes it down to Akira-kun."

This, paired with her earlier comment on grandchildren, stuck out at Makoto. "You realize Akira is not actually related to Sojiro-san, yes?"

Sae waved her hand in front of her face. "Details."

Makoto was about to really dig into this argument—for Akira's biological parents, absent as they were, would likely have something to say about the subject of their son's paternity—but just then Sae's phone went off.

"Oh, foot," she said after glancing at the number. "I have to take this. Will you excuse me a moment?"

Makoto nodded dutifully.

Sae mouthed love you! Before she answered the call, snapping back into the sober, unflappable, nigh immovable, scary lady of the court. Makoto admired the shift in persona—ha!—as she watched her sister go. As soon as she was out of visual range, however, her rage frothed like that cup in the Christian Bible that runneth over.

It runneth over quite a bit, in fact, and Makoto began to think fondly of Ann's whip. It all boiled down to this: why hadn't her boyfriend told her he was coming back to Yongen-Jaya? Followed by: what could she do to make him regret this misstep?

There was one thing she knew for certain, however.

This was all Akechi's fault.

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The group-wide skype call was set for 9 PM that evening. Futaba was running it, of course, because she was brilliant and amazing and hello the hacker of the group, from the cafe floor of Leblanc. Ann, Ryuji, and Haru were already present, and Makoto would arrive any moment now, having left dinner with her sister (surprisingly on time) after Sae had gotten a work call. Sojiro was pottering around in the kitchen, preparing coffee for his guests, but also to be on hand for the details. He was involved, after all, and not just because he knew what was going on.

Inari was already online, and sending passive aggressive chats her way. Futaba answered them quickly and effortlessly, thus proving her brilliance was better than his talent. Futaba was a little unclear why he was so damn popular in Japan right now. So what if he was tall with flippy dark hair and classic bone structure? He was a weirdo who took pleasure in baiting 17-year-old girls, (namely her) and, more importantly, was a dingus who just did not get anime.

As for the guest(s) of honor, Akira and Morgana, they were yet to sign on. To be safe they had planned on sneaking into the hospital again to give the report directly from Goro Akechi's hospital room. He had not woken up again since they had revealed his name, and everyone except Futaba was worried about this. She had, throughout her career as Medjed and Alibaba, slept for solid weeks at a time, waking only briefly to pee and scarf down curry. She did not understand why everyone was so worried Akechi had slipped back into a coma. He'd wake up when he was good and ready.

Which was why she was worried, of course, although she was capable of admitting that it wouldn't matter in the long run. The fact that he was somehow still breathing would only expose the terrible choice she had made sooner rather than later, and whether he knew what she had done—which she doubted—everyone else soon would.

"You're taking pictures now?" Ryuji whined.

"It's just to Shiho, calm down," Ann replied, tilting her camera angle to include Ryuji as well.

"Ann, do not include me in your selfie. I do not take selfies."

"Jeez, Ryuji, didn't you put on your makeup this morning?"

Futaba glanced up at her bickering teammates. While Yusuke perpetually worried they were gonna get horizontal and naked someday, she just couldn't see it. They were like besties and siblings all at once, just like her and Akira . . . except they showed their latent affection by bickering, rather than having meaningful heart to hearts and pat-on-the-heads.

The bell above the front door opened, and in walked Makoto who looked . . . well, was murdery a good word? Yes, it was definitely a good word. Futaba was unsure of why, exactly, but damn did she ever want to find out.

"Oooh!" Haru squeaked, not having see her roommate walk in. "Can I be in the picture too?"

"Sure, come sit in my lap. Or Ryuji's, give him a thrill."

"Ann, I'm warning you—"

"Thrilling, indeed," Haru said, with a little wry smile on her face. "How about I sit on both your laps? Then I will have the ultimate thrill."

The fact that the situation unfolded exactly so and with no real complaints led Futaba to believe that Haru was either so sweet and innocent that no one could tarnish that, or so masterfully manipulative that she was a force that could not be stopped. Either way, Futaba made a mental note to join forces with her, later. Only good things could come of this.

Makoto, having divested herself of her purse, scooted in next to Futaba. "Good evening," she said, calmly.

Futaba stared back at her. "Whose body do I need to help you hide?"

From across the table, she thought she heard Ryuji mutter I told you so!

Makoto cracked a wry smile at that. "No one's yet," she said quietly. "Let's see how the evening plays out, shall we?"

Just then, the skype call began ringing. "Everyone, we're starting!" Futaba called out, causing Sojiro to drop something in the kitchen and Haru to wiggle off of Ann and Ryuji's laps and throw herself next to Makoto.

"Morgana!" The Okamura heiress cried out happily as soon as their two friends popped up on the screen. "Oh, I missed you so! And hello, Akira. Have you been well?"

Futaba snorted, because of course Haru would get more excited over the cat than the human. Of course she would.

The requisite welcomes passed by in a flurry of excitement, everyone happy to see their stalwart leader and loyal sidekick. They looked tired, but just as happy to see all of them. Just in the background, barely visible at the edge of the screen, lay the corner of a hospital bed. On which presumably lay Goro Akechi.

Futaba focused half on Akechi, and half on Akira's tale as he filled them in on what Igor and Lavenza had told him about Akechi's reappearance.

"And that's that," Akira finished. "Clearly, G—Akechi cannot face his crimes until he recovers enough to remember them, but we also need to determine what Yaldabaoth was planning with him. I know it's hard to accept, but I propose we hide him and aid in his rehabilitation, at least until both those goals have been met."

"Fuck that," Ryuji said, who, as expected when presented with something new and dangerous, was angry. "We don't owe Akechi shit, let alone hiding him from the law just in case he may know something useful."

"I do owe Igor, however, and he's relying on us," Akira argued. "This is something he cannot do himself, and I promised him that I would help him."

"I, or we?" Yusuke queried from his own computer screen.

Akira swallowed. "I didn't feel it was right to speak for any of you. Morgana has agreed to help me—"

Here, Morgana interrupted by piping up his agreement.

"—But this is a decision you all have to make for yourself," Akira continued. "None of you need to help me, or even forgive him, but I will help him, no matter what he needs, and no matter how long it takes."

Akira's determination was sobering, and her guilt weighed down on her so heavily that for a moment Futaba couldn't speak. But that was wimpy, and worse, childish, so before the silence in Leblanc was broken by another impetuous comment, she raised her hand. "I'll help him."

Every head in the restaurant whipped around to look at her. Even Sojiro's, and Futaba took a distant pleasure in that.

Makoto pressed her hand, being the Team Mom even now. It clashed with her expression, which was the exact same face she'd make if Futaba had grown another head. "Futaba, are you sure?" She asked. "This is huge undertaking, and for the man who indirectly murdered your mother."

And I indirectly murdered him, Futaba thought. "I know that, and I know what I'm doing," she said firmly, before throwing off a little salute to Akira. "You can count on me."

"I, as well," Yusuke said, his cultured voice grave. "There is no honor in condemnation, not if there is a chance for redemption." He bowed his head. "I trust in your recommendation, leader, and I will extend whatever assistance you require of me."

Haru sat, stubbornly silent, her expression a mask of pain. She leaned forward and said, "And what about you, Mona-chan? Do you really think we should help him? Or is he too dangerous to welcome back into society?"

The 'cat' made a show of scratching behind its ears, somehow denoting deep thought. "Not right now, he isn't. He was a little bit like a puppy—floppy and annoying and out of it. He pretty much just wanted to make Akira happy, which is weird on its own, let me tell you." He sighed. "I know it's hard to accept, but the bottom line is that Akechi needs help, and we're the only ones who can help him."

"He's still desperate for approval, huh?" Ann murmured, latching onto the puppy comment. "Jeez, at least Akira's a better 'master' than Shido . . ."

"Does he need help?" Makoto asked, her voice dark. "I can understand the medical attention while he's amnesiac, but what happens when he remembers who he is? When he remembers all that he's done?"

"Then we're on suicide watch," Akira said firmly. "Igor was explicit. Akechi cannot be allowed to kill himself."

"Kill himself? I'd worry more about his coming after us!" Ryuji said, still angry. "You especially, he was pretty gung-ho on murdering you the first time around!"

"He's currently too weak to pose a threat—" Morgana began, but Akira talked right over him.

"That's why he's ultimately my responsibility," he said. "He tried to take my life and failed. Now his life belongs to me, kind of, and I won't fail."

Stunned silence followed that proclamation until Yusuke mused, sounding aloof and interested at the same time. "You know, there was a similar belief held among the ancient Celts. They held that any attempt on the life of a druid would be revenged in the afterlife, unless the druid had tried to kill you first. If you survived that attempt, that meant the life of the druid was yours, freely taken with no supernatural repercussions, if you chose to do so."

"Does that mean Akira's gonna off Akechi?" Haru murmured under her breath. "I could get behind that."

Yep, Futaba would put all her money on Haru's being a schemey little genius, calling it now.

Makoto slammed her palms down onto the table. "Are we all forgetting what he did? We need to bring him to justice!"

"Hell yeah," Ryuji said. "What she said!"

"Even if he couldn't survive it?" Ann asked. "Or understand it? That's not justice, that's revenge."

"Ann is right," Yusuke agreed. "Not only must he be out of danger medically, he must know himself before facing judgement."

"Guys, we have been over this before," Akira reminded them. "Remember how we all tried to talk him back over to our side on Shido's boat?"

"Ship," Makoto corrected automatically.

Akira nodded. "Ship. Didn't we all come to an understanding that he wasn't evil incarnate then?"

"That was more like talking someone out of suicide," Futaba pointed out. "Of course we didn't want him to go full on evil mode—we didn't need more than one End Boss, after all. I'm not sure we all meant what we were saying, to be honest. I certainly didn't."

Akira gave her a look which could best be described as what the hell Futaba, whose side are you on?

Ann sighed heavily. "Doesn't matter. I'm in. I'll help too."

Ryuji turned to her, shocked. "What are you saying? You wanna just go help the bad guy? Oh my god, Ann, is this the hotness thing again?"

"Wait, what?" Makoto hissed.

Ann gave Ryuji a look that promised punishment, later. "Are you saying you're not gonna help Akira?"

Ryuji's arms came up in a defensive gesture. "Oh no, you don't. Do not make this about that. Of course I have Akira's back, and of course I'm gonna go through with all this. Doesn't mean I can't complain about it now!"

"Yes, because that's how the best decisions are made," Futaba pointed out to Ann, who looked a bit smug. "By implicitly threatening someone with bodily harm."

"May I complain about it now and later?" Haru asked politely, ignoring everyone at the table in favor of staring at the computer monitor.

Akira tilted his head at her. "Does that mean you'll help?"

There was a brief hesitation before she nodded. "Yes," she said. "I won't like it, and will never like him, but I understand what it is to be desperate for autonomy in the hands of someone more powerful than you." She swallowed before admitting, "And to be unloved by one's father."

Makoto let out a low growl before flinging herself back against the padded back of the bar seat. "This is insanity," she said. "I can't—this is just . . .!"

"I never expected you to be on board, Makoto," Akira said quietly. "All I ask is that you don't tell Sae."

"And if I do?" She challenged.

Futaba tensed. Hoo boy, here came the real test of her loyalty . . . but she'd be lying if she said a rather large part of her wasn't itching for another chance to crack Sae Niijima's computer (again.) If Makoto outed Akechi, that's what she'd have to do, of course. And not just because she wanted to—because if she did that, maybe she could forgive herself.

Akira made her resolution moot, however, when he treated them all to the saddest face any had ever seen him make. "Then I'm gone, and taking him with me." He glanced up at the camera so for an instant, it felt as if he were looking directly at Futaba. "If Futaba stands by her promise, good luck trying to find us."

Everyone was very, very quiet while Makoto digested that. Even Ann and Ryuji were silent, unwilling to breathe funny and thus redirect Queen's anger onto them. Futaba, who was sitting directly next to her, cast longing glances towards the exit. Were she not leaving her laptop behind, would she be able to vault the chairs and escape before Makoto caught up with her?

Maybe if she threw Ryuji behind her like a meat shield, first?

"You would also have to contend against all of us," Yusuke pointed out. He wasn't nearly as worried as anyone else, seeing as how he was halfway across Japan and (ostensibly) out of Makoto's attack range at the moment. "To protect him, we would all claim you were lying. As it is, holding your silence—for the time being—is the most sensible course of action, I feel."

"I'mma feel the upside of your head as I smack it," Makoto grumbled, too quietly for anyone but Futaba to hear. Sensibly, she scooted over a touch, and cast assessing glances at Ryuji's musculature. Maybe he was too heavy for her to shift. Ann?

Yes, she'd probably be top heavy enough to topple right over.

"Fine," Makoto ground out. "I won't tell Sae, but I'm not helping in any other way."

Her boyfriend smiled at her, and sweet nothings seemed imminent.

"You know, everyone sitting at the table in front of me has had a second chance," Sojiro pointed out, breaking the moment. Futaba perked up. She knew the signs of fatherly wisdom, and he wore them in abundance. Even his facial hair seemed ready to dispense info like the Buddha.

(It was entirely possible Futaba was sleep deprived, and making little sense.)

Attention directed itself towards Sojiro, who stood, washcloth in hand, watching them all with a discerning expression. Such discernment went hand in hand with his secret kindness, and his closet need to love and care for all who wandered into his life.

"Maybe it's too soon to decide his fate," he continued. "Why don't we just take it day by day, and see what comes?"

Makoto was stunned. "Boss, you're ok with all this?"

"Ok is a flexible term," Sojiro admitted. "I've said he could stay here, but only if Akira is here to . . . well, in a word, police him," the shopkeeper finished, looking into the computer monitor at Akira. "But if he says or does anything to Futaba—anything at all—he's gone."

"Um, I'm right here," Futaba noted, raising her hand. "I heard that."

Akira bowed his head. "I take full responsibility for him. Whatever he does, punish me instead, please."

Futaba frowned. "Still here, guys. Still hearing all this."

"Wait, this is why you're moving back to Yongen-Jaya?" Makoto asked. "I thought you were just moving early before Uni started in the Fall!"

"Can't it be for both reasons?" Akira asked, mildly.

"Um, what am I, chopped liver?" Morgana exclaimed. "I'm coming back too!"

Haru smiled, and it was the happiest she'd been since Akechi was mentioned. "I'm so glad, Mona-chan. I've missed you so much! I have this exciting new recipe for coffee I'm dying to try out, and it just can't work without your special assistance!"

Futaba didn't exactly know what that was all about, but Akira and Makoto both adopted utterly horrified expressions. Unfortunately, Akira's scooping Morgana into his arms protectively made about as much sense as Makoto's whisper of, "Not the elephants!"

"Either way, congratulations on your return are in order," Yusuke said. "When will the happy occurence be?"

"Ah, as soon as Akechi is 'released,'" Akira said, making air quotes and everything. "He's in bad shape physically, and who knows when he's gonna remember, so Morgana and I have to monitor him pretty constantly until he's at least somewhat better." After he a moment he added, "Also, I have it on pretty good authority that I could get a job as a barista in my downtime. This fits in perfectly with my secret plans. Don't tell Sojiro, but my life's dream is to be named his successor, and future owner of Leblanc."

Everyone's eyes cut to Sojiro, who had heard every blessed word.

He groaned. "You've told me that 'secret' three times already, you weird delinquent. Aim higher. Do something more with your life."

"So anyway, Akira's coming back?" Ryuji asked, now as happy as he had been angry moments ago. "Hey, does that mean you got into Tokyo U?"

Akira nodded. "I'll be starting my business management degree in the fall. Meanwhile, Sojiro can teach me the next level of the bean. I'm very excited."

Ann cocked her head. "You are kind of a weird delinquent, aren't you?"

Akira's eyes opened wide. "Don't tell Sojiro that! He might not leave me Leblanc!"

Haru clapped her hands, done with this absolutely fascinating discussion. "Ok guys. I think we should leave it here for tonight. We can't really do anything more until Akechi wakes up, so let's just percolate on this for a bit."

"Heh," Futaba chuckled. "Percolate. Haru made a coffee joke."

"You are a disgrace to high-minded culture," Yusuke said, disapprovingly.

Futaba ignored him. Some boys were just stupid.

"Will you keep us updated, Akira-kun?" Haru asked.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Excellent," Makoto said, although from the tone of her voice it was clear she found the whole affair to be anything but. "I agree that we should break here for the night. Akira? I'd keep your phone on. You'll be getting a call as soon as I get home."

"Ooooh," Haru murmured. "I'm gonna be sleeping with earplugs tonight."

Really, why wasn't Futaba spending more time with Haru? University had made her snarky, and it was glorious.

"Stop salivating, Futaba," Yusuke chided her. "It's unseemly."

"I hate you," she told him bluntly. "You are my least favorite friend."

He drew up, affronted, but before he could retort Makoto leaned over and shut the laptop, ending the connection. "You can flirt with Yusuke later. Now it's time for bed."

The look on her face was so dire that Futaba didn't argue. Her phone vibrated in her pocket, no doubt containing Yusuke's response, but she let it go, not wanting to present herself as a viable target for Makoto's rage.

"Yes ma'am," Ryuji said, very quietly. At his side, Ann nodded quickly.

Things wound down quickly after that. With a matter of minutes it was only her and Sojiro in the shop.

"You're sure about this?" Her father in all ways that counted asked.

Futaba gave him a cocky smirk. "Of course I am! Who do you think you're talking to?"

He gave her the look which generally meant I do know you, that's why I'm asking.

She sighed. "I really am, Sojiro. Besides, if his coming here brings Akira back, I can deal with him."

Sojiro sighed. "Yeah well, I stand by what I said. If he does anything you don't like, he's gone." He grumbled under his breath. "Wakaba's gonna haunt me, I know it . . ."

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My biggest regret about this piece is that I haven't managed to outline a Ghost Wakaba character, who would clearly hate everyone and everything except for Futaba, and occasionally Sojiro. Might like Akira, because no one can withstand the allure of the MC.