At the Crossroads
October 31st. 7:23 PM
Shinjuku, Crossroads Bar
"You sure come here a lot...I guess I don't really mind it, but keep yourself in check, okay?"
"I always do, Lala," Mishima reminded her, closing the door behind him and rolling up the sleeves of his baggy green shirt.
"Fair enough. You here to work I take it?" He nodded, eyes scanning for the regular five o'clock boozehound. "Ohya had to step out to take a call," Lala informed him, reading his mind, "not sure if she'll be back in tonight."
"I'm not that lucky Lala, she'll be back. I mean, she better be, I've gotta talk to her and she's already flaked on me twice."
"You're really serious about this book of yours," it wasn't a question, Lala's eyes were hard as she put out her cigarette.
Mishima smiled, "don't worry Lala, you'll be in it. The whole world will know that the Crossroads was integral to the Phantom Thieves' mission, I'll drum up more business than you'll know what to do with!"
"That's what I'm scared of sweetie, I got all the lost souls I can handle already. Have you decided on a name for it yet?"
Mishima stiffened as he recalled Akira asking the same question. "Mishima, I'm gonna tell you this right now, unless I find out that you had a literal gun pressed against your head, if you don't name this thing the Phan-tome, I will personally hunt you down, and kick your ass. "The placeholder is 'The Phantom Thieves of Heart : Shadows of Tokyo'."
Lala pulled back a little, "maybe you wanna workshop that with Ohya, with the year she's spent in culture and entertainment, I'm sure she'll be able to help you come up with a...snappier title."
"I'd rather she keep getting me meetings with people than turn my book into a magazine headline."
"Fair enough, she can go a little over the top with her names. Speaking of people though, it's almost time for the regulars to show up, hurry and get your apron on."
"Yes ma'am!"
For the next hour, the Crossroads was all rattling glasses and off-key singing to accompany the low hum of jazz in the background. Mishima ignored the stares he got from various guests throughout the night, no doubt confused to see a high schooler in a place like this, instead throwing himself fully into filling any food orders, as well as getting water and oolong teas to those who were drinking more than their fill. Lala was constantly beside him working in overdrive, pouring glasses and chatting up a storm with customers.
"Look Lala, I know you're not into economics, but hear me out-"
"-yeah, I had to leave the job site today, my boss is nuts, even by my standards, you know he-"
"-c'mon Lala, I've had a long day of dealing with idiots, so now I get to be the idiot, now show me that trick with the-"
"Lalaaaahh! Two moaw glashesh, I'm countin' eight fingrsh on thish hand, sho I won't drop theesh onesh!"
Once all their guests were situated, Mishima returned to the counter, the sheer number of them intimidating him. The bar certainly didn't look big during its off hours, but when filled to capacity, it held quite the crowd. Once he was back behind the counter, he found an absolute mountain of glasses and plates in the sink awaiting him. Lala's ability to hold so many conversations at once was nothing short of sorcery as far as Mishima was concerned, but the woman couldn't be bothered to do dishes for the life of her, it was like she let it pile up throughout the week just for him. And you just let it happen Mishima. At least the pay's good.
Eventually the flow of customers tapered off, and Lala was wandering between tables, no doubt dropping her tidbits of nurturing wisdom, leaving the bar to him. There were a handful of folks drinking alone tonight, and it was his job to alleviate that problem. Let's see, sweaty man, seems a little intense, better leave him be. That guy's gone twelve rounds with a single malt, might be good for a laugh. And my third choice is a woman, naturally. Well Mishima, suck it up and go for it, maybe Lala's right and you'll learn something. Mishima's gaze fell on the drinker closest to him, a slightly older woman, probably in her early thirties, dressed in a red and violet evening gown. It was part of his job to chat up anyone that Lala couldn't get to, so at least he had a solid ice breaker. He sucked in a deep breath to steel his nerves, and approached.
"How are we tonight Madame? Anything I can get for you?"
A pair of soft hazel eyes jerked up from a glass of wine to give him a once over. Crap, she's kinda cute. "I could use a tall drink of water," she told him, flashing a dazzling smile.
"Coming right up!" Thrilled to be able to fill any order without needing to flag down Lala, Mishima had a chilled glass down before the woman in seconds. She blinked, frowning at him from across the counter. He felt a bead of sweat form on his forehead as he glanced expectantly between the woman and the glass. Crap, that must've been code for something, he despaired, but in a flash her smile was back, one that Mishima sheepishly returned.
"You a new part-timer?" He nodded, and the woman's smile broadened, her eyes far less restrained now, as they glided over him with interest. "It's like Lala is catering directly to me, bringing me all these gems!"
"Er…'gems', ma'am?"
"You see dear, I meet a lot of men in my line of work, so I pick up on a lot of points that make a man, points I might be willing to pass on to gems such as yourself, to make you really shine."
Getting less cute. "Ah," Mishima replied cautiously, trying to get a better grasp of the situation. Her hair was tied up in an intricate bun, but one that had come half undone, her disheveled brown tresses falling messily down her temples. Her outfit was an elegant single strap dress, though the strap hovered very loosely on her shoulder now. And at the end of the day, here she was, drinking the night away in a bar in the Red Light District. A lot of men, huh? "What business are you in exactly?" he asked, heeding Lala's advice that when all else fails, just let them talk, pass no judgement, and they'll open up.
"I'm a party and event planner, corporate gigs, birthdays, luaus, that type of thing, so I meet all kinds of people. What did you think I did?" She teased, giggling as Mishima turned scarlet. "You know, I see potential in you, uh…." She trailed off, looking at him expectantly.
"Mishima. And 'potential'? Is that what you call it?"
She giggled again, "well Mishima, a sense of humor is very good to have." He smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes, humor, right, ha ha. "Yes, you have potential, it's just buried...deeper than most." Ouch. "The first thing I'd look into is getting a new wardrobe."
"My clothes?" Mishima tugged lightly at the hem of the loose shirt, it was one of his favorites.
"Of course, a proper man takes pride in his appearance, not just wearing...whatever fits." The woman took a quick sip of wine, failing to disguise the look of contempt she gave his outfit. "Besides, what're you trying to hide? You're not bony, you've got muscle on those arms, I'd wager that you must play a sport."
"Well, I am part of the volleyball team at Shujin," he admitted, blushing in embarrassment, unconsciously puffing his chest out a bit.
"Oh," she paused, a worried look on her face. "Shujin, that's...the team that used to be coached by that olympic medalist, right?"
Mishima deflated. "Yeah, Kamoshida, he's…" Rotting in a cell like he deserves. The reason I dress like this, trying to hide old bruises. The reason I'm a coward. "He's somebody I was too scared to stand up to, the reason I never wanna be weak again. It's part of why I'm working here, I wanna be a better person," he finally managed, confident in his answer. The woman's frown refused to budge, crap, that got a lot heavier than it should've, what would Akira say? He's normally good at breaking tension, 'course he's also much more charming than me. I'm spending too much time thinking about this, it's making this silence really awkward. "Maybe that means it's fate that brought us both here tonight."
….
This is harder than I thought it'd be.
The woman smiled softly, taking another sip of wine. "Well, a man who shows humility is...charming in his own way, I suppose. You're definitely an interesting one Mishima, quite different from that other part-timer."
She must mean Akira. I wonder if she could tell me what he did for Ohya, since Lala refuses to tell me. "Ma'am, you wouldn't happen to-"
"Maria! So good to see you again, how did the Kuze party go?" Mishima let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in as Lala approached, maybe she really could read minds. Regardless, anything to save him from himself with the way this conversation was going.
"About as well as you'd think Lala, that whole family drinks like a horde of demons," the woman, Maria, huffed. "I couldn't even cut loose a little and dance, not a person in the building who could keep on their own two feet for more than a minute. Turns out that men can get too rowdy, so that's that theory out the window." She sighed, her whole body slumping against the counter. Glancing up at Mishima, her eyes crinkled in delight, "what about you Mishima, do you dance?"
"Me!?" Um…" Mishima looked to Lala for support, seeing only amusement in her eyes. C'mon Lala, help me out here!
"Sweetie, can you take this tray to the gentleman in back for me? I wanna catch up with Maria here." Mishima mouthed a quick 'thank you' to Lala, snatching the tray out of her hands.
"Keeping him a mystery isn't going to keep me away Lala, you of all people should know that. Oh Mishimaaa~ Do hurry back now, you hear?"
Emboldened as the mantle of conversationalist was lifted from his shoulders, Mishima smiled at her, the words coming effortlessly now. "Whatever you say, Miss Maria, I'm here to please."
"Hoho!" She cheered, taking another drink, "there's definitely a wolf under all that wool, you are going to be something special. Lala, where do you find these boys?"
"They find their way to me, probably since I'm not always trying to compare them, looking for some 'perfect guy'." Lala gave Mishima a wink, one hand coming out of her robes to shoo him off. "You know that's the biggest reason you can't keep a man for more than-"
Sucking in a breath, free of Maria's...unique company, he noted the drinks he was carrying, a whiskey and two waters. Thanks Lala. Breaktime...sorta. Pulling out a notepad from his back pocket, he maneuvered to one of the back tables where a lone businessman with a bowl cut sat, idly tapping away at his phone.
"Excuse me, are you Keiji, sir?" Mishima probed, one eye flitting over his notes while he set the drinks down.
"That's correct, which makes you Mishima," the man smiled pleasantly, gesturing to the open seat across from him. "I'm afraid I didn't order whiskey though, just a water. I can't stick around for too long you see, I didn't tell my wife I was stopping here on my way home."
"It's on the house sir, as thanks for agreeing to this," Mishima told him, perplexed that Lala had confused an order. "SInce we don't have much time though, let's get right into it. The Phantom Thieves helped you by changing your boss' heart, a…..Shinsuke Kishi, right?"
Keiji took a sip of water, his eyebrows raised in surprise. "Wow, you're pretty well informed. I'm impressed, I mean, I didn't even post his name on the forums, yet the Phantom Thieves got to him within a few days, and now even a kid like you figured it out? Wait...are you-"
"I'm just a big supporter of what they do. With this whole scene with Okumura, I wanted to make a documentary about them, so people don't forget all the good they've done. I've been stalking through the Phantom Aficionado site for all the material I can find." Mishima gave the man a confident smile, he'd gotten good at telling that story after all, he couldn't evade attention like Akira did, so he couldn't afford to let slip how closely he was linked to the Phantom Thieves. Keiji seemed to accept the explanation, nodding along attentively. "Of course there's only so much I can get off the internet, so I'd like to hear your side of things sir. What business are you in?"
"I'm a sales associate working for a big soft drinks manufacturer."
"Well that's definitely unique. Do they let you take home any free soda?"
"That they do," Keiji laughed, patting his small pot belly happily, "a benefit of the job I take full advantage of."
"How long have you been working with your company?"
"About twelve years now, and I'd been working under Shinsuke for five."
"I see. Five years is a long time, what exactly did your boss do to you that he needed a change of heart?"
"He would always take credit for the things that his subordinates did, and he went around telling people that we were worthless. It kept anybody from moving up in the company, it meant the higher ups worked us to the bone because they thought we just weren't accomplishing anything, it drove so many people to quit because of the stress."
"That's horrible." Mishima took a sip of water, five years of being called worthless, how wasn't he fired? "Okay, so I realize at the start of their campaign, nobody really believed in them, since it seemed like it was just a high school rumor. When exactly was it that you started to believe in the Phantom Thieves enough to post on the Phan si-er, Phantom Aficionado website?"
"Honestly?" Keiji rubbed the back of his neck, looking almost guilty, "it wasn't that I believed in them, I was just desperate by that point, and even then I didn't post his name, I was just sorta...venting I guess."
"You posted anonymously?"
"Yeah, in fact I think the only person besides my wife who I told my boss' name to was La-" Keiji stopped himself, turning towards the bar where Lala was still entertaining Maria, "you don't think that Lala is…" Mishima took several deep breaths to keep from laughing, then shook his head. "Huh, maybe it's my wife then," the man joked.
"So what got you so desperate that after five whole years of this treatment, you finally needed to say something?"
"I posted on the website during the Medjed incident, the higher-ups weren't really concerned with the threat, the company just wanted to capitalize on the countrywide panic while competitors scrambled to protect their assets, so they moved up the production of a new soda brand. We were in charge of throwing together an ad campaign. You're looking at the creator of the Santa Soda slogan."
"Wow! That's uh… 'Everyday's a gift, so enjoy the present with Santa', right?" Keiji nodded, a smug grin tugging at his lips. "Huh, y'know for anything else, I'd say that was a super situational slogan, but this whole year's been kinda crazy."
"It certainly has. Thing is, Kishi claimed credit for my work, just like with everything else. And they were gonna promote him for it! The higher-ups were gushing over how sales were up nearly fifteen percent."
"BULLSHIT!"
"GEEZ!" Mishima jumped in his seat as a manicured hand crashed down on their table, the familiar scent of jasmine perfume fighting a losing battle to alcohol assaulted his senses. Frowning up at the source of the odor, Mishima wondered how many people he killed in a previous life to deserve this. At least five. "What the hell Ohya?"
"He's feeding ya bullshit Mishy," the reporter claimed, dropping that god-forsaken nickname in the middle of a crowded bar. Undeterred by his hand gestures, trying to subtly wave her off, she continued, "a news article's one thing, but for a documentary like you're doin'? Ya need facts, facts that the Second Maid Man over here isn't being forthcoming with."
"Ohya, this is an interview, not an interrogation. Go bother Lala and leave this to me, okay?"
"Already did, she sent me over here. Good thing she did too, you're doing such a fantastic job already, you're asking the real cutting questions there Mishy. MOVE!" Dragging a chair over to the table, Ohya shouldered him aside, kicked up her feet, then grabbed the glass of whiskey. "Leave it to Lala, the beautiful bitch cracked the top shelf stuff for me!"
"Is she a..." Keiji paused as the reporter completely drained her glass in a single go, "friend of yours?"
"She's...my partner," Mishima told him, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Try not to mind her drinking too much, she's got the tolerance of a man three times her size." Alright Ohya, come into my interview, treat me like a child, let's see how a gin-tlewoman reporter does it.
"And for sassy, unappreciative Phan-boys, I've got the strength of one too," Ohya remarked, slapping the back of Mishima's head. "Now, where were we?"
"WE," Mishima growled, drawing an invisible line between himself and Keiji, "were just covering how his boss stole credit for his sales, and if I understand it correctly, the idea of him finally getting an even higher seat in the company over a slogan encouraged him to reach out for the Phantom Thieves' help. Is that about right?" Keiji nodded, his eyes nervously darting to Ohya, noting her unimpressed glare.
"First and last parts I believe, nobody fired him despite Shinsuke Kishi telling people how useless he was, so he was definitely pulling in some juicy sales figures that Kishi couldn't let go of."
"How long have you been listening?"
"Since 'do they let you take home free soda,' have I told ya that you're killing it by the way?"
"Just figured I'd ask," Mishima murmured, jotting down some additional notes, right, the boss would be the one to protect him from getting fired, so long as he stayed a golden goose.
"And for the last part, the asshole getting promoted after five years meant that Keiji here found the courage to stand up to him, at the bottom of a bottle, calling him out anonymously, on an online forum." Keiji tugged at the neck of his shirt, seeming to shrink in his seat beneath Ohya's critical analysis. "It's the middle that's a load of crap, boss took credit for A slogan, not his, at best he was in the same room when that slogan got written. A room full of people surrounded by cups of coffee at four in the morning, cracking stupid jokes because they're all exhausted and terrified of the call that might come any minute from somebody more important than them that'll put them out on the curb if they can't make a deadline. That's the environment that cranks out stupid slogans like that, a kid like you wouldn't know that, so Keiji here thought he could pull one over on you, make himself look good. You're a better than average salesman who belongs exactly where he is on the corporate chain because he's also a colossal coward, that about right Keiji?" Gulping loudly, Keiji averted his eyes, then slowly nodded.
"Christ Ohya," Mishima muttered, impressed but still stunned by her crass delivery as he made hasty adjustments to the notes he'd taken. "I take it that the room you're talking about is one you've been in a few times before?"
"I catch enough crap from Akira and Lala, I'm not taking any from you," she warned, staring hard at her empty glass. "I'm gonna need more of these to even want to continue this conversation. Well,' the woman shot to her feet, her indignant sneer replaced by a wide smile as she glanced between Keiji and Mishima, "since you don't want my help, and clearly don't need it since you've had this interview so well in hand Mishy, I'll be at the bar." Taking an extravagant bow, Ohya walked away, leaving Mishima to pick up the pieces of a shattered Keiji. Eight people, I killed at least eight people. That constitutes a massacre, right?
"She's a bit...yeah," he sighed, "maybe it's best that we do only one more question." Keiji didn't respond, seeming exceptionally pale suddenly. "Um...Keiji? Sir?"
"Wha-oh, right, one more question. Sure. The wife's probably...wondering...where I am."
Mishima took a long gulp of water, trying to muster up his inner drunkard reporter. "As somebody who's been helped by the Phantom Thieves in the past, do you believe that they're guilty of killing Kunikazu Okumura?
"Yes." Mishima managed to control his expression, passing no judgement as he set to work transcribing the statement. "So I'm a coward, but I'm not an idiot, Shinsuke might've been a horrible person, but the fact is that what he did worked, brutal tactics are just more effective. In business especially, everyone starts out with good intentions, wanting to do right by their customers, partners, even their competitors. Once you get big enough though, you can't keep micromanaging everything, you need to start making bigger decisions that end up hurting people, and the best you can do is try to make the ones that do the most good. I guess even the Phantom Thieves aren't immune to that, for them, changing somebody's heart must be tough work, but killing him off like that shows how nobody's safe, maybe get people to start giving themselves up. I dunno."
"So would you say that the Phantom Thieves are justified in their decision?" Keiji didn't respond, resting his head in his hands. That was as far as he'd be able to take this interview. Mishima offered his hand out with a smile, "thank you so much for your time sir, you've been very helpful."
"Right, sure thing," Keiji breathed, shaking Mishima's hand. "Is uh...another whiskey, off the table?"
Mishima laughed, "I'll bring it right over, on the house of course."
"I hope you know that you're not getting paid tonight, that whiskey doesn't come cheap after all, sweetheart." Mishima frowned as he returned to the counter, taking a seat beside Ohya as he shucked off his apron, the tension instantly flooding out of his muscles.
"Can't you just take it from the royalties I'll get from my book?"
"Haha, YES!" Ohya whooped, throwing her hands up in victory as Lala scowled at her. Thankfully the bar had finally emptied out, or the drunk woman would be turning heads with how obnoxiously loud she was being. "'Atta boy Mishy! Now you're talkin' like a writer."
"Celebrating victory from the comfortable home of the starting line," Lala noted. "This is why I want him speaking to other customers, not just you."
"And he has been, it's been helping the boy build confidence, a month ago this kid wouldn't have had the balls to be that sassy out loud. That said, I take credit for at least half that transformation, I give only the best bad influence for my favorite part-timer after all," Ohya raised her glass in a toast. It took her a few too many seconds to notice that Mishima didn't have a glass. "Lala! Get the boy a drink, chop chop!"
Mishima eyed her suspiciously. "I figured Akira was your favorite, I bet you don't harass his customers like that."
"Akira? Hell no," she scoffed, "refuses to drink with me, even when Lala ain't around, keeps trying to offer me coffee instead. I haven't given up on corrup-er, convincing you to join me for a drink though. You're always so nervous when ya talk, you're holdin' back on me Mishy, a few glasses of Dom Perignon outta get ridda that censor!"
"Ohya, the censor exists for a reason, you don't wanna hear what I actually think about you." Lala laughed at that, clearly enjoying herself by just observing, conspicuously not bothering with the piles of dishes in the sink. "And c'mon Ohya, that's your criteria for your favorite, which one of us is more likely to be a drinking buddy?"
"Well, you're fun to hang out with too, Mishy, not like Akira, boy's too sharp for his own good, every interaction we have feels too much like we're butting heads."
"What would you call what we do?"
"Bustin' eachother's chops! It's what friends do after all."
"Friends...is a word," he remarked.
"And it's the right one," Lala added, setting down a glass of water for him. "You can deny it all you like, but I don't think I've ever seen anybody as comfortable around Ohya as you are." Both Mishima and Ohya groaned.
"Thanks mom," they said in unison, before looking at each other with terror in their eyes. "Oh god." Lala started cracking up at that, eagerly listening for a third joint remark.
"Alright Mishima," Ohya coughed, a fine rosy dusting to her cheeks as the alcohol probably started to hit her. "This woman's strong arming me with free high end booze to stay, since you apparently need to talk to me so bad, so talk."
"Lemme guess," Mishima droned, looking at Lala, "that'd be free-to-me booze, that's also coming out of my pay, right?"
"Out of your royalties," Lala corrected with a wicked grin, "better get your money's worth while she's still coherent then."
"Right, hey Ohya," he began, not even looking at the reporter, "ready to tell me what the Phantom Thieves did to help you?"
"Not even close to drunk enough."
Mishima sighed, "thought not. Well in that case, I'll settle for information on the guy I asked you to look into."
"Who guy?" Ohya asked, giving a blank stare. For cryin' out loud…
"The real estate agent from Yongen-Jaya?" No recognition in those brown eyes. "Trying to buy up the old theater there? Threatening people's lives and livelihoods? Works for Sugawa Real Estate? Gave you literally everything but his friggin' Individual Number and all I asked for was his name, THAT guy!"
"Virtually, practically, basically, essentially, all of those would work, it's not 'literally' everything," Ohya corrected him, grimacing, "this book's gonna suck." He waited several seconds for something more, but got nothing out of Ohya as she continued casually sipping whiskey. He cleared his throat. "What? Oh, right, that guy. I forgot you did this for Akira." How this drunk had figured out his connection to the Phantom Thieves so quickly still baffled him. Thankfully Akira vouched for her, so with any luck there was nothing to worry about. "You're not gonna believe this." Twelve, twelve people, I have killed at least three families in a past life.
"You didn't get a name."
"I did," Ohya protested, "I wrote it down somewhere, I just…" she patted all of her pockets, then winced, "forgot it."
Mishima massaged his temples, keeping his breathing even. "That's fine. It is, it's totally fine," he muttered, trying to reassure himself more than present company. "It's been a good day, I got an interview, that'll probably be worth a few...entire sentences in the final copy. I've gotten my first experience with debt on account of somebody else's drinking problem. And I got chatted up by a man eater of a woman whose highest compliment was that I have potential, it's just buried unnaturally deep." He sighed, standing up from his bar stool, "I'm gonna...head home Lala, take care. Ohya," at least she had the decency to look like she was sorry, "try to at least get on the right train when you head home this time."
…
Ohya grumbled into her whiskey, eyes downcast, refusing to be held by Lala's judgemental silence, searching for the words to break it. "Only took the wrong train because that damn girl mixed them up on me."
"You were arguing with a video ad for that idol Risette, in the middle of the station," Lala reminded her, putting the last of the collected glasses into the sink, looking at the mountain of dishes, then staring longingly at the door.
"Yet ya keep on pouring for me. Can't you just admit that sobriety is boring Lala? You live off the dumb shit I do when I'm tehhhhh," catching the bartender shaking her head, Ohya hesitated, "-levehhhh," another shake, "-teeeeeen?" Nod. Oi. "Thirteen rounds in huh?" She shrugged, "Well I hope it's as fun for you as it is for me."
"It breaks my heart most days," Lala told her bluntly, looking utterly crushed, "I perform, I counsel, I try to be a friend, and when all that fails I can still offer a drink to comfort folks. But when that's all I can do, it hurts. So for my sake, can you at least tell me why you refuse to tell Mishima anything about your past? Or why you lied about forgetting the name? Anything."
Ohya belched, giggling to herself at the sound. "Sorry Lala, only kinda comfort I deal in's sixty proof and up. You should try it, experience the thrill of an open bar at least once in your life." Lala remained stone faced. Okay, throw her a bone. "I don't need another lap dog, you saw how clingy the last one got when I took your advice and 'opened up'." Lala didn't even blink. "I just don't wanna talk about the Phantom Thieves so much, it's already my job, I don't want it to become my life too." Damn, this woman's giving me nothing. I've talked too much about reporting, she's starting to see through my bullshit. "I just…" Screw it. "Can't keep helping them Lala...the police are in on this now."
"You're scared."
"Who wouldn't be!? I mean...Okumura, the guy crushed Burger Baron, a fast food juggernaut, down into a bite sized hostile buyout slider, by pouring money into negative press on them after that employee had a psychotic break and started getting busy with the wrong kinda buns."
"I thought he just got naked, that's what the news mentioned."
"That's all public tv could mention, I looked into it a bit more after learning what happened to Kayo, and it's not pretty. Okumura definitely had a hand in that... break, mental shutdown, whatever you wanna call it, I just don't know how he was involved. And now, him dying the way he did...I'd have to do some digging to confirm it, but I've got a hunch about who's behind all this, and I just don't think they can handle it."
"And you think Akira's gonna just stop because he doesn't have your support?"
Ohya froze. She wasn't that far gone, she'd said nothing about any individual, much less Akira. "What're you talking about?"
"The other reason I let you drink," Lala told her, smiling with a childish delight that told her she was safe, "eventually you open up to me, sometimes you just forget about it come morning. One of the perks of sobriety is you can actually guarantee discretion, so you don't need to worry about this reaching any other ears."
Sorry Akira. "I just...I don't know how they work. For once in my life, I can't fucking figure something out, no matter how much digging I do!" Taking a deep breath, Ohya ran her hands through her hair, trying to still her nerves. "I've got no idea how they do what they do, which means I've got no idea which name I feed them ends with Akira on the news, death by suicide, shot himself in the back of the head."
"Ichiko…"
"And Mishima, the kid's just a Phan-boy, he's an idiot kid. The Phantom Thieves, they're his heroes so he doesn't believe a word of it when the news is saying that the mental shutdowns are all on them. With this documentary of his, he's becoming more and more of a journalist, I open up to him, and he's gonna wanna know more about those cases. He'll do his research and because he's just an idiot kid that doesn't understand how dangerous some information can be, he'll ask the wrong questions to the wrong person, and then he'll end up just like Kayo."
Then the silence was back, only this time it didn't feel like Lala was lording over her at least. Why couldn't this shit just be simple for once? Lala looked about ready to speak, let's have it then, what sage wisdom do you have for your single most hopeless customer? "All three of you are looking for the truth, in your own way, sure there are risks involved, but that makes it important. You can't try to get in the way of that, you need to support each other. At least give Mishima the name, so he doesn't lose faith in you completely."
One foot in front of the other, one step at a time. Tried and true, if nothing else. "Yes mom," Ohya muttered softly.
"Great. Now that that's sorted, can I pour you another, or are you tapping out for tonight?"
"Depends, you willing to walk me to the station later, make sure I'm not accosted by any more digital women?"
"Sure," Lala chuckled, "just this once though, after that you've gotta start trying to control your drinking more."
"Then here's one to procrastination!"
...
Well there ya have it folks, the answer to the question nobody had, 'what're Mishima and Ohya up to right now?' As somebody who was lukewarm at best to both of these characters, I gotta say, coming out the other end of writing this chapter, I think they're some of my favorites now, and hopefully after reading it I've swayed some of you as well. This was just something that popped into my head a few weeks past that I hammered out in about three days, and I'm really happy with it, and hopeful I can keep up that working pace because...there's been an incident.
Through a tragic cavalcade of kerfuffles, a certain three year old niece of mine was left to her own devices on my computer about two weeks ago, and grew very fond, in a very short time, of the delete key, and used it on several important papers of mine, some of which were chapters of this. Naturally I didn't make copies of any of these, because silly me, I figured, well I'm not a total idiot, and I almost never leave my laptop unattended, so why would I? Thankfully I hand write the first few pages of everything I make, just to get my thoughts in order, so I'm not gonna be totally lost in recreating them, but my more important documents need to come first, and they're being more trouble than I anticipated. As such, the next chapter is probably gonna take a bit longer to put out. At least now I won't have to wonder if I revised them properly, so, silver lining.
As always, thank you for taking the time to read through all this, and if you could leave your thoughts on how I'm doing, I'm always looking to improve, so I'd be much obliged. Enjoy your day everybody.