NOTES: Adachi's using Yuudai's first name in his head so we're not confusing. I haven't decided what I'll do for Kanji's chapter. He can't just call them both Doujima. Hurrrr... Maybe he'll permanently switch over to Ojisan, even in his head. That'd make my life easier. I feel like Kanji wouldn't call Ryoutarou by his first name; dunno why but I get that vibe. He's pretty respectful when he's not feeling threatened.

I'm designing Yuudai as though she comes from "the Naoto school of manliness" but is even more manly, haha! I tried to have her use aggressive, prodding speech and act like she's always in control f the situation. I don't know how well it all comes through in the first chapter she's in, but we'll see.

Did you know that they have hot canned coffee in Japan? It's the WORST PRODUCT DESIGN EVER. HOT METAL. I almost burned my hand the first time because I didn't realize. One time a vending machine was screwed up and I got a molten bottle of juice. I thought it was gonna melt in my hand...


Chapter Eight: The Switch

(Tohru)

We end up at a diner between the outskirts of Tokyo and Narita. It's a small, quiet place—Probably only empty because it's a little after lunchtime.

And they do have Western food!

I fidget, moving around the silverware and folding the menu. Ryoutarou gives me a look and I flatten the beyond-bent mess on the table.

"Going to remember how to use a fork?" he gibes.

"Bet you can't," I retort. "You don't even own a fork, do you?"

He squints, like he's thinking. "I do now," he triumphantly smirks. "I have yours."

"Cheater," I huff, folding my arms.

Someone comes by to take our order and I get spaghetti napolitan. He orders hamburg steak.

I finally remember to check my phone—Kubo texted me back some time ago. Felt it buzz.

"sounds like youre getting burned"

Well that's obviously not true—

I glance up at Ryoutarou. He's just leaning on his hand and staring out the window, bored.

He said I'm coming home. He wouldn't lie after all that...

I must be glaring because Ryoutarou furrows his brow and asks me "what the hell".

I sigh. "You know what this looks like."

He picks his head up and glances anxiously around the room. "What what looks like?" he inquires. "We look too..."

"No—Idiot—" I groan. "This whole trip looks like you're trading me off."

"What?" he hisses, trying to keep his voice down. Just then, our food arrives and he's quiet and less grumpy, thanking the waiter. But he immediately goes back to angry right after, lowering at me across the table and not touching his food.

I shove a mouthful of catsup-y spaghetti into my mouth to stall. He stares at me until I swallow and speak again. "You're taking me all the way to Narita. In a cop car—I can tell that you're carrying. I felt the gun when I leaned against you earlier. It looks like you're setting me up to trade me off for something."

He's all red and so pissed

Looks like I slapped the shit out of him or something, that amount of mad and shock.

"Nnnn—I wouldn't blame you," I try, shoving more noodles into my mouth. "Uhm—It just really paints a picture, when you line up all the details like this."

Ryoutarou's got that outraged curve to his eyebrows—The one he reserves for things like me being an asshole and—err—betrayal.

Was Kubo actually right?

After what feels like for fucking ever, Ryoutarou shoves his food away, almost flipping the plate. "I'm going up front to pay. Meet me back outside—I'm not eating with you if you're going to be like this."

I watch him walk away and feel a surge of that niggling panic. It's been working its way through my brain, and now it's attempting to break through to the surface.

I swallow my fear and put away the rest of the food. I even eat his. He'd never make something like this at home—

Shit am I even going back?

It would serve me right for all the times I've crossed him.

When I'm done, I put on my fake smile and wave to the hostess. There was a Family Mart a few buildings up the street.

I'll get some cash for insurance...

I see Ryoutarou leaning against the car, smoking. I narrow my eyes as my survival instinct kicks in. I can make it down the block without him noticing.

And if he does, it'll be a lesson to the both of us.

Leaving stealthily, I slip down the alleyway two buildings over, taking the more sheltered path. Ryoutarou hasn't so much as turned around—He's on the street side of the patrol car.

I'm almost at the other end when I feel a hand grab my shoulder—I'm not afraid.

I know it's gotta be Ryoutarou.

I hear a sad mumble: "So you really don't trust me."

Fuck.

He knew—

I sigh, putting my hands up and starting to turn around. Not much I can say.

I fold my arms and stare at him, letting my weariness show through. Yes, 'weariness'.

I'm fucking exhausted.

"So where were you going?" Ryoutarou quietly asks. "Don't stop on account of me. I simply wanted to know."

"FamiMa."

"That's all?" he inquires, cocking an eyebrow. He sighs and keeps his argumentative stance. "Cause you didn't have to sneak away for that. What's really going on?"

I relent, pulling out my smartphone. "Objectively, it seems an awful lot as though you're getting rid of me. Only Kanji knows where we are, and he wouldn't care either wa—"

"What about Nanako?" he interrupts. "You think she'd let me do that?"

"I don't think you'd give much of a shit what she thinks about it."

His jaw drops open and he falters a little, his hand twitching into a fist. I narrow my eyes. "Am I wrong?"

Ryoutarou steps towards me, his expression more heated now, but I don't back away. "You're wrong about a lot of things," he tells me. "Go to the fucking konbini and get back to the car."

Really curious now—

"What would you do if I walked away? If I slipped out in the middle of nowhere."

He takes another directed step towards me and I reflexively back into the wall. Shit.

"I don't know," he forces the words out, screwing up his face.

That's enough of this bullshit—

I stick out my hand, pressing my palm against his chest to gently push Ryoutarou away. "Okay. That's not what's going on with me, so chill." I sigh. "I'm taking money out of the ATM because I don't have much from after I paid Kubo befo—"

Ryoutarou's eyes flash. "Wait—Kubo told you this?" he disdainfully spits, figuring it out.

My eyes slide downwards. "No..."

"Yes," he insists.

"Yes..." I groan. "Yeah, okay—Just come with me to the FamiMa. I'm getting cash and you should eat."

Ryoutarou backs up, still looking both bristly and hurt. I grab his hand and tug him behind me, back the way I came and down to the small convenience store.

He waits outside while I take out a lot of cash. I pick out a peace offering of gyoza and a mentaiko omusubi for him, and a bag of shimi choco sticks for me. I grab a few cans of cold black coffee and pay in cash, then carry it all back outside.

"Here," I mumble, shoving the box of gyoza at him.

Ryoutarou's eyes are still angry slits. "Just because they're my favorite..."

"There's also mentaiko. But you don't get the Boss until you let up."

He looks at me sideways, chewing on the fist gyoza. "Hnn."

Nothing else is said by either of us until the gyoza are gone. "Trust me. Not Kubo or anybody else."

"Yeah," I snort. "Only trust you. Forever..."

Ryoutarou huffs and rubs my head. "You know what I mean." He hands me the empty tray and I shuffle it back into the bag, taking out the rice ball and my snack. I put the small cans of cold coffee in my pockets.

Ryoutarou snatches away the omusubi while I'm busy. He leans against the car again to eat.

"So how'd you know?" I query.

"I know you—Mostly," he asserts around a mouthful of food. "I figured if I waited patiently, you'd make a break for the alleyway if you were going to run away." His eyes look serious, but he isn't glaring anymore. "After you said you thought I was turning you over somewhere, I don't doubt you downed both meals, politely scrambled out, and went right for the corner store."

He points down the road, to where it bends sharply, and exhales. "Moron—I could see you in the mirror up there."

Sure enough, there's a wide-angle mirror mounted on the corner of a building. Damn.

Have I lost my touch?

"Stop frowning," Ryoutarou scolds. "I'm glad I can read you enough. We're supposed to be partners."

I take a deep breath and shove my hands in the sweatshirt pocket. I draw out one of the coffees and hand it to him.

"I wasn't running. Just getting insurance—The money. I know I can't bribe my way out of anything with the paltry amount I've got left, but if I can escape from some where... I can get away with cash." I pause to laugh bitterly. "The one thing our cash society is good for."

"How many times have you 'escaped' in your life?"

"A few," I admit.

Ryoutarou sighs and hands me the wrapper. "Don't worry about that crap anymore. We're in this together."

"Okay. I'll try."

He cuffs me on the shoulder and finishes the coffee. "What happened to not writing me off?"

"I said I wasn't leaving," I protest. I can hear a whine in my voice—Hate that shit!

"Oh-kay," he breathes, drawing out the word while he crushes the empty can. He hands it to me and opens the door to get back in the car.

I start to fume, but climb back in, too. "What do you want from me?" I mutter.

I watch him turn the car on. When Ryoutarou turns around to back out, and then I can see his face—less guarded in that moment—for the first time today I realize how unsettled he really is.

People are a pain.

When he's done backing up and stops to put the car in drive, I cover his hand with mine. Ryoutarou looks up at me and I can see the anxiety pulsing in his eyes. Can read it loud and clear.

I lean over and kiss him. A good, serious kiss. When I pull away though, he looks confused more than nervous. It's something.

"Wh-what was that for?" Ryoutarou haltingly asks.

I shrug. "Looked like you needed it."

"Haah," he sighs. "I don't get you..."

I close my eyes again while we zip through a number of smaller towns. Ryoutarou puts on the radio and we're at ease.

Until his phone rings.

"What?" Ryoutarou says into his cell. Then he lets out a more surprised noise. "What?!" he barks. "You're at my house?"

"Who is it?" I tap him.

He ignores me and keeps yelling. "You decided it was a good idea to just show up?! There isn't even anyone there—"

Ryoutarou's going really red and he's got that enraged look on his face. So I reach over and yank the phone out of his hands. "Who is this?!" I spit.

"I-it's Ryota!" the man on the other line stutters. "What'd I do?!"

Aurgh!

I laugh derisively. "You picked the wrong day, idiot. No one's home. No one will be home until tomorrow—Get lost!"

Ryoutarou's now directing his displeasure at me, trying to make a grab for the phone. I lean away from his hand. "I got this—" I assure him, covering the mic.

"Ryota." I sigh, trying to sound annoyed, when really this is kind of amusing. "Look. You can't just show up in town or at our house. You need to call first—And not through the TV!"

"I used the phone because no one was there," he grumbles.

I smack the dashboard. "Then why the fuck would you go over?! We have other problems right now. And use the phone from now on—Pho-o-o-ne," I drag out the word. "You clearly know what a phone is."

"I don't have your number. I took Ryou's from Marie."

I tell him the digits and wait while he adds me to his address book. "Where are you even staying?" I question.

"They have a house nearby—"

"Who has—You know what? I don't care." I smack the dashboard. "How far is it?"

"About a forty-five minute walk," he bluntly replies.

I drum my fingers—This is too funny.

"Lemme guess—" I sarcastically intone. "You like walks, huh?"

"Yes."

"Okay." I scratch my head, trying to figure out the next step, here. "Why don't you come by later in the week? After we get home I'll let you know what's good. We're both working, so you can't just come around in the middle of the day."

I hear a familiar "hnn" through the line and roll my eyes. "You're working? Who the hell would hire a goddamn slacker like you?"

"Ryota?" I quip.

"What?"

"Fuck off!" I mash the end button and snap Ryoutarou's old fucking cell closed. I hand it back to him and he looks a little less angry. "I can take care of the shadows. You focus on the rest."

He glances at me after he throws his cell in the cup holder. "Alright," he agrees. "Fine. I'll leave it to you."

I nod confidently. "Want another coffee?" I chuckle.

Ryoutarou give me the 'Moron Look'. "How many did you buy?"

"There's more than one person I need to bribe, apparently."

"Mnn..." Ryoutarou agreeably grumbles, holding out his hand. Then asks me to turn on my smartphone's GPS. "We're getting close, but I don't know where exactly."

I type in the address and direct him down a bunch of narrow roads. "Ever been to Narita?" I ask.

"Yes."

"I haven't. Lived so close, too—Turn here. It's that one." I point to a nondescript low-rise office building. "That's it?" I scratch at my head again and peer at the ordinary-looking place.

Ryoutarou snorts. "Looks can be deceiving." He pulls into a visitor space and throws the police car into park. "Okay," he breathes, reaching over to open the glove compartment. "Put your damn guns in there."

"Huh?" I sniff, narrowing my eyes. "I don't have a—"

"Yes, you do." Ryoutarou pats one of my pants' pockets. "I noticed it earlier. I doubt you've got just one."

I groan and cross my left leg on my other knee. I raise the cuff to show off a derringer. "It's better to have one."

"We're taking a non-confrontational stance—To start with. And guns are still in violation of your parole."

And speaking of parole—My parole officer is coming by later this week.

I guess I should try...

I unstrap the holster and shove it in the glove compartment. "How am I supposed to act?" I quip.

He reaches back over to snap the cupboard closed and lock it. "You're going to act however you want—So I'm asking you to use your best judgment. Think before you do."

I nod. "Don't worry." I take off the sweatshirt and look down at myself. I appear decently professional—I know that makes him feel more confident.

We'll be fine.

Ryoutarou squeezes my shoulder and finally opens his door. "Let's go, then."

I exit the car and follow him to the main entrance. Inside, the building has a completely different vibe than the boring, normal affect it gives off. That's hiding in plain sight, for you...

It's modern, with day-bright bulbs to make up for the lack of large windows. You have to check in at "Reception", which is definitely a heavily guarded checkpoint—I can glimpse a metal detector through the small window decorating the only door.

When we walk over to speak with the receptionist, they don't say anything—It's up to us to make the first move. I wait silently while Ryoutarou states his name and that he's here to pick up papers for "Tatsumi Kuma" and make sure Namatame is released.

Is this an office or some sort of holding pen? I can't read what goes on here, and I'd rather not walk in unknowledgeable.

I don't like this...

We're buzzed through the door and then have to walk through the hi-tech machine, get patted down, and have copies made of our IDs. Ryoutarou is told to leave his USP in the guard's care—That he'll need only his license retrieve it.

We're told which floor and office, and make out way there. Sure enough—The one we stop at is labeled "Dojima Yuudai - Chairman". Ryoutarou makes an aggravated noise, so I slip my left hand into his right before he knocks.

When the door opens a few seconds later, I feel a surge of hostility when I see her—She is definitely that bitch who pushed for stronger sentencing. I feel my teeth showing, so I rush to close my mouth.

I feel Ryoutarou squeeze my hand a few times until I calm down enough.

"Ah—Hello," he tries.

"Hnn," Yuudai replies—And what the fuck is this a family trait or something?! "I see you've finally come crawling back."

Now that I know, there is a clear resemblance—They're both tall, with sharp eyes and a few other similar features. And that aggressive, in-charge way they speak to everyone.

"You have something of mine," Ryoutarou impassively replies, dropping my hand to pull out a cigarette, a motion the older woman notices.

Yuudai frowns. "The hell is that?" she colloquially barks, snatching away the pack of smokes.

I pluck the box back instantly. The two people stare at me like they'd forgotten I exist. "My name is Adachi." I light a cigarette and pass it to Ryoutarou.

"Bodyguard?" his mother jeers.

"Something like that," I retort, sliding the rest of them back into his pocket. And they're still gawking. "What?" I quip. "I was asked to come along. What did you expect?"

Ryoutarou shakes his head to clear it and takes a drag off the cigarette. "We'd like the papers. Where is Namatame?"

"He's down the hall," she gestures with a flick of her head. "He's working however, so don't disturb him until his break."

"'Working'?" Ryoutarou questioningly repeats.

Yuudai nods. "We've made a deal." She gives us a smug smile. "I have a similar proposal for you." She looks right at me and raises an eyebrow. "I'll explain if you'll join me for coffee."

"No, we'll be leaving with the documents," Ryoutarou replies for me. I make a face and he grunts. "Let's go, Tohru."

Sure, now he's fine using my name in public—When he's obviously trying to get me to listen to him.

"Let 'Tohru' decide for himself. He's his own man, yeah?" Yuudai folds her arms and waits for my answer.

I look between the two of them, feeling like one of those animals getting yelled for by both sides. Ryoutarou looks like he's on the edge of anger, while the woman gloats. He's going splotchy red again. I scratch my head and sigh.

I make a decision and pull a can of Boss out of my pocket. "Well, we already have coffee, what else can you offer me?" I smirk.

"Cafeteria vouchers," she spits, less happy than before. Someone likes to think they're in charge...

"Fine—Let's go," Ryoutarou grumbles. He looks to Yuudai to lead the way, a suspicious expression playing across his face. "How long until Namatame is free?" Ryoutarou asks, rudely tapping the end of his cigarette, dropping ash on the floor.

Yuudai doesn't pay it any attention. "A few hours."

"Oi—We don't have that long," Ryoutarou reiterates.

"We'll see," the woman tells him, and ushers us into an elevator. We ride to the top floor—Not that it's too high, only the eighth.

But there are a bunch more buttons, looking like they lead to basements.

"We have ten additional floors underground," Yuudai explains, as if reading my mind. "Test facilities."

Ryoutarou glares and stubs his cigarette on the wall of the elevator, then drops it to the floor.

"Pick that up," Yuudai admonishes, but doesn't lose her cool. "I didn't raise rude children."

Ryoutarou simply stares at her and I get the feeling that he is acting like a complete child—Way worse than I've ever seen before.

Not enjoying this standoff, I personally pick the cigarette off the ground, and try to smile amiably at Ryoutarou. He falters, and I can see he's realizing he's being a jackass. I take his hand again with a sigh.

And that's when she notices. This lady was at several of my court dates and I've seen her around when I worked in Tokyo—she was some police bigwig—and this is someone whom I've never seen appear surprised.

Her eyes widen for a brief moment before she regains control of herself.

"Stop that," Yuudai orders. "You look like queers. Adults don't hold hands like that."

"They do if they're in a relationship," Ryoutarou retorts. "And no one says 'queer' anymore."

"Well, actually..." I mumble, and Ryoutarou gives me a 'shut up' look.

The elevator dings and we silently file out. The cafeteria takes up a good portion of the top floor and has large windows. There's so many different food stations, and I know I ate two meals like two hours ago, but this is too good to pass up!

"Get whatever you want and put it on my tab," Yuudai snaps. "Then we'll go to a conference room down the hall."

Someone's done with the niceties...

While I take different dishes off the line and stack them on my tray, Ryoutarou glares at me. "What?" I tiredly ask.

"We should be leaving."

"I'd like to know what the job is. I need a job, remember?" I reply.

Ryoutarou runs a hand through his hair and grumbles at me. "I got you a job..."

"I need to build a resume," I respond. "Not knit and play with fabric."

This could be something I'd enjoy.

The cashier tallies everything up and then we're walking back over to his mother. "You didn't tell me you want to build a resume." Now he looks hurt.

Oh boy...

"I hadn't thought about it. I didn't think I could get back into law enforcement. But this job has to have something to do with either that or politics, right? It'd be a good step."

Yuudai is clearly studying our interactions like a hawk, now. Or some other angry bird. "This way," she curtly tells us. We walk a little ways and enter a small meeting room.

I set down my food and dig in. Ryoutarou shoots me a disgusted look, so I pass him the last can of coffee. He exhales loudly, but accepts, popping the tab and taking a sip.

"So what's Namatame doing?" I ask, hoping I sound interested.

"With help from us, he was able to manifest his Izanagi," Yuudai smugly confides. "And we'd like to see yours."

"He doesn't ha—" Ryoutarou angrily starts, slapping the table.

I step on his foot as hard as I can. "What's that?" I dumbly question.

"Yeah, what's that?" Ryoutarou boredly echoes, clearly not meaning it.

Yuudai pages through some sort of report in front of her. "We have reason to believe that you have a special ghost inside of you," she explains, appearing to be a good sport.

Until she abruptly changes tactics—

"But cut the crap, you already know all this don't you?"

I hold out my arms and smirk, not ready to give anything up.

"If you'd like to see if you have the potential, we will reimburse you for your time," Yuudai carefully words her proposal.

"Could this lead to a permanent position like my old one?" I question, tapping my finger on the table. "I'd like something like that again."

"No. Fucking. Way." She enunciates each word, keeping a straight face. "You should still be locked up—But—" she pauses to point at me. "We could possibly negotiate the house arrest, giving you more freedom."

"Hmm," I loudly hum.

Yuudai flicks her eyes to Ryoutarou, who's leaning back in the chair with folded arms, the small can of coffee already gone. "I'm not convinced my moronic son even makes you wear the tracking bracelet."

"Excuse me?" Ryoutarou indignantly huffs. "I took it off today because I was told to by your people!"

I narrow my eyes. "He's never been anything but a rule-follower," I supply. "And I don't appreciate the insinuation that he'd let me walk off. He five-hundred percent would not—He takes this bullshit way too seriously." I scoff, and I can feel myself getting worked up—

And I realize that's what this woman wants.

Knows that then I'll make a snap decision about all this—

I don't take the bait. "Do you have some sort of contract drawn up? I bet you do," I say.

Yuudai smirks and draws out a clear file. "Everything is in here. I hope you'll peruse it and get back to me soon."

"Fine," Ryoutarou interrupts. "Now where are Tatsumi's papers?"

"Oh, did I not mention that Tarou has them? He's worked so hard so I let him hang on to them. He should be free shortly."

"Good," Ryoutarou concludes. "Then we'll be leaving." He stands and yanks me with him. I grab the folder so I can at least take a look at whatever this is.

"I was hoping to ride back to Inaba with you," Yuudai sweetly calls after us, smiling knowingly at Ryoutarou.

"Over my dead body," he mumbles.

The woman opens the conference room door and rests her hand on his shoulder. "Ooh, but I do need to meet this Kuma-kun. I have reason to believe he's from another world."

Shit—

"So I'll definitely be in your neck of the woods. I was hoping we could put the past behind us and I would be able to see my only granddaughter."

"No."

"She could get pulled in for questioning, and it would be a shame for her to meet me in such a way... When we are family and all. I know how important family is to you."

"Oww—" I hiss. He's gonna break my fucking fingers!

Ryoutarou lets up on my hand and squares off with Yuudai. "You get one chance."

"How many chances have you given the murder?" she rails, landing a decisive hit.

He's squeezing my hand again—

"That's not your business."

"I know more than you think. All of our platitudes may not reflect the depth of my knowledge on personas—"

She used the fucking word!

She does know more than she's letting on.

"—but I know it all. I know how deep his involvement goes. And he's a danger to you and Nanako."

He's still clutching my hand so fracking hard—

Ryoutarou's going splotchy and dark once more, and this time the woman is, too. Damn they seem a lot alike.

"He's not a 'danger'—He needs help! Which he's getting, as you know, because it was a part of his conditional release—Which you approved." Ryoutarou's advancing more, acting aggressive—

And what the fuck happened to our 'non-confrontational stance'?!

But he's still going. "He's definitely not the 'national threat' you tried to paint him as, and if you insist on pursuing further incarceration, once his sentence is over, the three of us will move so far you will never see us again."

Ryoutarou drops my hand to walk right up to her, getting in her face. Yuudai straightens, pulling herself up to her full height—And damn she's a lot taller than I'd thought.

"So back the fuck off if you want any contact," Ryoutarou concludes. "He's family now, more to me than you are."

Ooh dammit. I do not think that was the right thing to say—

My wheels are spinning out of control.

Control—

I don't have any control over this argument—

This situation—

Fucki—

These are not people I want fighting. It won't end badly for just me, but all of us.

In that moment, it's as though a switch flips inside me.

"That's quite enough," I calmly intone, stepping closer to the two commanding presences. "We all need to back up and take a breather."

Their heads snap around in my direction and both people give me inquisitive stares. That's right. I'm stepping up to deescalate this idiocy.

"Why don't we all think on it and discuss it later, if we're all going in the same direction," I assertively instruct.

They stare like idiots, and Ryoutarou's mouth falls open.

"We'll ride separately," I declare. "I remember the floor plan. Point us to Namatame and we can find out own way out."

Yuudai watches me knowingly—She's seen my demeanor change before. It happened one day in court.

The day they cut me the deal.

When the pressure gets to be too much, I feel almost strangely calm.

It only works when other people are involved. I can't do it when there's a me-problem.

But only when I both feel cornered and have something to protect.

We're given directions to Namatame's "provisional office", he'll be going back to Tokyo at the end of the week. They told his aide he's on a business trip, and once they stopped pretending he was a hostage, he's apparently been very compliant and interested in finding out more about his persona.

Bastard still thinks he can use it to save people.

No one needs his saving.

Back in the elevator by ourselves, Ryoutarou studies me. "What the fuck was that?" he incredulously questions.

"I was taking care of the shit you were screwing up," I respond.

"You're different."

"I'm taking charge," I evenly reply. "Somebody had to."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ryoutarou demands.

I sigh, knowing he's going to be pissed again if I call him out. "You were getting really riled up. So I stepped in to make sure you didn't start making threats—Real threats," I clarify. "In a government building."

"I know what I'm doing."

"Okay, well it's over anyhow." The elevator doors open and we head out to find Namatame's room.


Re-Edited 8/6/17