4/4: Wednesday
"I'm sorry, Sayama-san, it's out of my hand."
Nakamura had taken a seat outside of the teacher lounge, enjoying a moment to himself, when he heard the school principal talking to their English teacher, Aika Sayama. He pulled out some manga from his bag and pretended to read from it.
Sayama herself had come to Kamiya about some budget cuts that prevented the school from ordering the new materials she had requested. She had made the decision to bring this up to Kamiya himself, since they had just gotten a large donation from Akiyama Energy, the electrical company for the town, and many teachers were under the assumption that it would lead to better supplies.
Evidently, it wasn't just Sayama that had a problem with funding.
Nakamura heard Sayama ask, "How is it possible that all that donation money is already gone?"
"Fee and regulations, yes," Kamiya offered, not that Nakamura believed a word of it. "We're getting less and less money from the government, so what money we get from donations need to be used to keep us afloat and paying both for our teachers and upkeep on the school grounds, yes."
Yesterday, when Akira had asked him to listen in for anything suspicious, Nakamura had found it an odd request. The more he thought about it, however, the more he realized that nothing about the school's financial situation made sense.
Schools went through rough patches, that was common enough, but for there to not even be enough to get new supplies when they received donations on a regular basis? That was cause for concern. It was also a cause for concern that it was a high schooler and not one of the adults to notice it first.
"Are we truly that underfunded?" Sayama asked. She did sound puzzled and suspicious, but the likelihood of her actually calling out the clear lie was low.
Kamiya let out a noise that sounded like a cross between a cackle and clearing some phlegm from his throat. "We are, yes. I promise, I am doing all that I can. Now, please, I have things to take care of."
"Yes, of course. My apologies."
Nakamura put his book in his bag and quickly scurried away before either of the two teachers could see it. He wasn't entirely sure just how useful this information was to Akira, or how new, but it was nice to confirm some things.
The sun was setting, the small town of Meguro was settling down for the night, and one man had a goal in mind.
Akira was walking down a mostly unfamiliar street with a very familiar weight in his bag. He had his hood pulled up over his head, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible.
"There," he said, tilting his head slightly towards a large home.
Home might have been too modest. It was a garish thing, a real eyesore. There were terraces, balconies, several stories, a sort-off Western gothic feel to it. A large spire was attached to the side, looming large over the neighborhood.
"Jeez," Morgana said from the bag. He popped his head out and shook it a couple times before looking at the large structure. "This guy's just a high school principal, right? How does he even afford that?"
"I have some idea," Akira replied, not breaking his pace. Kamiya's residency was in the better part of town, about a half-hour walk from the school, only a few minutes by car.
It was apparently a pillar of the community, where more than a few events were held, such as fundraisers for the school and whatnot. If Akira had to guess, most of that money just went right back into Kamiya's pocket. Or into another sportscar.
Speaking of vehicles, the two parked on the driveway looked as out of place in the small town as the house itself did. Akira wasn't great with cars, so he wouldn't be able to pick out the year, or brand, or make, but he was certain that they were far too new and expensive looking.
The yard was gated off, preventing trespassers or petty thieves. It might not be a problem for Akira, but he'd never tried to actually break into a place in the real world. If he was Joker, then he'd do so without hesitation or effort. Alas, such bravado was lost with the Metaverse. A little, anyway.
Instead, he found himself relying on one of his old teammates. He glanced back at Morgana. "Think you can handle it?"
"Handle it?" He let out a little huff of indignation. "Do you understand who you're talking to? I was doing the whole Phantom Thief thing long before you and the ape came across me!"
"Firstly, the 'ape' has a name. It's Ryuji," Akira said sternly. It was an ongoing problem between his best friend and the companion in his bag. Morgana held an intense dislike for Ryuji that no one seemed to understand, and Ryuji, being Ryuji, never handled the situation with grace.
It led to verbal fights, and possibly the closest the Thieves ever came to prematurely disbanding. Nothing came to that level again, but the constant sniping between each other, usually instigated by Morgana, was being to wear thin on Akira's patience.
"Secondly, you never actually succeeded at stealing a heart without us, did you?"
If cats could blanch, Morgana would be doing so. Sometimes the little guy needed an ego check, even after all this time. Akira wasn't happy doing it, but it prevented further problems.
"Err, yeah, I guess you're right." He cleared his throat. "I can do it though. This isn't a castle; this is just some guy's house! What's the worst he can do? Call animal control? I can get away from those knuckleheads with ease."
"Good. He's got to have some dirty little secrets stashed in there," Akira said, walking past the home.
"You can count on me, Joker!"
4/5: Thursday
"So, like this?"
Akira looked over to the beans his father had just ground up. He shook his head. "Not quite. They have to be evenly ground, and it looks like some of it is too fine for the French Press."
Daisuke clicked his tongue and shook the grounds into the trash. He set down his mortar and pestle. "Sorry. I'm not very good at this."
"It's okay," Akira said, presenting his grind to him. "No one makes a great cup on their first go-around. There are three important factors that go into a great cup of coffee; grind, heat, and time."
"Coffee's a lot more complex than I originally thought," Daisuke admitted. He crossed his arms and leaned on the counter."
Akira shrugged. "Neither did I. Sojiro hammered that home quick. Anyway, since we'll be using a French Press, you'll want a coarse grind. They're a little bigger than typical grinds. Since the beans are sitting in the water, there's less surface area that needs to be covered, and it'll be too big to pass through the mesh.
"Next, you don't want the water to boil. If it's too hot, it'll extract too much of the coffee too fast, making it too bitter. Good rule of thumb, boil it, then leave it off the stove for thirty seconds.
"Finally, if you leave the coffee in for too long, it'll get too bitter again. Four minutes, that's all it takes. No more, no less.
"Of course, different blending methods require different grinds, as well as heat and time. For example, commercial coffee, coffee you typically get at a gas station or a Starbucks, need a medium blend, pour-over coffee uses a medium-fine, so on and so forth."
Daisuke didn't bother to hide his amusement and pride. It was nice seeing his son just talk about one of his interests. Even if said interest was just making coffee.
"I typically use a mortar and pestle," Akira continued, motioning to the tools, "but using something like a burr grinder is the usual go-to when it comes to this sort of thing. No blenders or bladed grinders, though. Only amateurs use those."
"Wow," Daisuke said, shaking his head. "You really are starting to sound like Sojiro."
"He taught me well."
"Yeah." Daisuke had grown quieter. "He did, didn't?"
Akira looked over to his father and frowned. He hadn't expected that response. Was his father… jealous of Sojiro?
Good, a part of him thought. That's what you get for abandoning me.
He pushed that thought away. It didn't do either of them any good to be thinking like that. But it didn't feel quite right to broach the subject right now either. It was the morning, after all, he needed to get ready for school. Making coffee was one thing, having an intense conversation that probably deserved its own day to have was a whole different thing entirely.
Before he could ruminate further, his father said, "Thanks for the lesson, Akira. You should probably get ready for school."
Akira nodded, silently thanking his father for the out. He quickly made his way back up to his room to get dressed for the day.
God, why was it so hard to just talk?
J: Got a question for you.
O: your god might have an answer
J: Funny.
J: Got a situation over here in the sticks.
O: and you need the help of your awesome navigator
J: Naturally.
O: (￣︶￣)
J: Would you be able to find out if a principal was embezzling funds into his own personal bank account?
O: (눈_눈) please i thought this was going to be a challenge
J: So, you can do it?
O: ( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)
O: do you really need to ask that
J: Okay, yeah, that was a stupid question.
O: if the guy is stupid enough to upload it to the clowd i can just pull it from there
O: would take like 5 mins
O: 10 tops
J: And if not?
O: then we just do a repeat performance of what we did with makochans sis
O: plug in a flashdrive to his computer wait a few mins then i can read it from there
J: Any flash drive will work?
O: obvs not
O: ill have dad mail you one of mine
O: its up to you to actually plug the thing in
J: I doubt Mona would be able to do it himself. I'm having him scout out the guy's house.
O: name
J: I don't remember his given name, but his surname is Kamiya. There should be enough public records to narrow that down.
O: cool ttyl bout to do some crime
Akira laid his phone down on his desk and rubbed his facial hair. He knew Kamiya carried a personal laptop with him at school, but whether or not that piece of hardware had any useful information was a real gamble.
He knew it was kept in the principal's office, but he'd never seen Kamiya really wander the halls of Tokuyama. That would make it difficult to get in, get the information, and get out before getting caught.
He'd need a distraction. And he unfortunately knew where to get one.
4/6: Friday
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Nakamura asked, following Akira closely.
School had just gotten out for the day and students were already trying their hardest to leave as fast as they could. Akira himself stuck around for a few minutes before meeting up with Nakamura near the stairs to the roof.
The first year had explained what he had heard throughout the week. It wasn't entirely new information, but it did add fuel to the fire. Something was definitely going on behind the scenes. He needed to get to that laptop.
"No, but there's nothing else I can think of to get Kamiya out of his office for the time I need," Akira explained, climbing the steps. "You don't have to be here, you know."
"I can't let my best friend get hurt!" Nakamura proclaimed, falling closely in step.
"'Best friend', huh?" Akira said, giving him a grin over his shoulder. "I'll take that compliment."
Akira opened the door to the roof and stepped into the sunny day… spotting Kazuya Tanimura and his two minions.
They were seated on some boxes on the other side of the room, each with a cigarette, and slouched like some stereotypical yankii. Tanimura himself was seated with his back towards the entrance and didn't even react, but Spike and Pierce immediately jumped to their feet, looking ready to lay down some pain.
Akira took a few steps forward, aware of Nakamura cowering behind him.
Spike and Pierce looked beaten up, far more than Akira did to them a week ago. They each sported bruises and cuts that weren't there before, so something must have happened.
"Got some balls coming up to our turf," Tanimura called out, taking another drag on his cigarette. He still didn't turn around. "Got some business with us?"
Akira said, "Yeah. I was hoping to have a chat."
Tanimura slowly stood from his seat and turned to get a good look at the man who knocked a tooth out. He was now sporting a black eye, but looked otherwise untouched, at least compared to his minions.
He took in one last breath of nicotine before flicking the cigarette away. "How's the face, Kurusu? Pretty badass looking scar you got there."
"It's alright." Akira shrugged. "Bruise is healing nicely. How's the tooth?"
"Eh. It was rotted anyway. You just saved me a trip to the dentist." Tanimura gave a gappy grin as the minions let out low giggles. Or maybe they cleared their throats.
It was hard to tell.
"Always happy to help," Akira replied, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He pointed to his own eye. "I don't remember giving you that though."
"Oh, yeah. Since you beat me, some people thought I'd lost my touch." Tanimura glowered towards the two minions. They both cowered in fear. "Don't worry. I set the record straight."
"That's good to hear," Akira said.
Tanimura looked past him to see Nakamura trying to hide himself completely behind the taller high schooler. "What'd you bring Naka-chan for? A peace offering?"
"Nakamura is here as my friend." Akira pulled his right hand out and clenched it into a fist. "Leave him alone."
Tanimura held up his own in surrender. "Got no interest in the pipsqueak, anyway. What do you want, Kurusu?"
"What are your feelings on Kamiya?" he asked, returning his hand to his pocket.
"The principal?" Tanimura barked out a laugh. "Me and the boys go out for Sunday brunch with him every week. The hell do you think my feeling about him is? I hate the bastard. You could probably flip a coin for whether he hates me more'n you."
"What if I told you I think I can take him down?" Akira took a few steps forward. "I have reason to believe he's doing some nasty stuff. Stuff that could put a man in prison. I just need a little help getting that public."
"Pass."
Akira grimaced. It was the reaction he expected, though he wasn't particularly happy about it. "Why not?"
Tanimura shrugged and took a seat on the makeshift table they group were using. "Not really interested in the whole 'hero' thing. You got that on lockdown anyway."
"I'm not trying to be a hero," Akira argued.
"Well, you're failing. Now beat it. I won't go down like last time."
Akira looked down at the shaking Nakamura. He wasn't going to get any help there, the kid was scared out of his mind. So, he decided that it was time to strike a deal.
"What will it take?"
Tanimura didn't respond. He adjusted his seating, but otherwise remained in the same position, barely acknowledging the question. Spike and Pierce took a few steps towards Akira. He took the implied threat with the same amount of nonchalance.
Nakamura stammered, "U-uh, Senpai? M-Maybe we should-?"
"What will it take to get your help?" Akira stood firm, not backing down.
Tanimura sneered and jumped off the table. "You pack a pretty mean punch, Kurusu. And the way you caught mine? I didn't see that coming at all. Never had a fight like that. It felt great."
Akira didn't respond.
"I want another," Tanimura announced. "A real fight. Just you, me, and our bare hands. That's how you're getting my help."
Nakamura shook Akira's arm. "H-Hey, you don't have to, uh, have to do this! I'm sure there's another-!"
"You could get expelled with my plan," Akira said, still standing firm. "It'll probably involve some bodily harm to your little pals."
Tanimura grinned. "Well, they could use the discipline. Ain't that right, boys?"
Spike and Pierce blanched, but they remained silent regardless.
Akira found it in himself to resist laughing at their obvious fear. Tanimura had his lapdogs well trained. He asked, "So how is this going down, then? Here and now?"
Tanimura shook his head. "The old gym. Sunday. I'll be there all day. Show up whenever if you want our help. Got it?"
Nakamura grabbed Akira's arm. "Senpai? Are you sure this is a good idea?"
He gave Nakamura a reassuring smile before returning his gaze to Tanimura. "Sunday it is. I'll see you then."
"Heeeey! Wuzzup my favorite little info-guy?!"
"Not much, Ohya-san. I have a question, how much does a principal make at a high school? On average?"
"Whu? Why d'ya need ta know that?"
"Humor me."
"Uuuuuh, lemme see, about 8,640,461 yen."
"Did… did you just know that?"
"Well, why wouldn't I?"
"Hm. Would you be able to sell a story about a corrupt high school principal in a small town?"
"It'd be a decent puff piece, I guess. Thas about it."
"I might have something for you in the next week or two. I'll keep you posted."
"Thanks, Aki-chan! Youse the best!"
Morgana stretched himself out on Akira's bed. "Ahhh! Nothing like a good night's rest after a long day at work!"
Akira smiled and dropped his bag onto the floor. "How'd it go?"
"So, I didn't find much in the way of evidence, but that guy's house is really nice on the inside! Lots of expensive appliances and junk! It's so neat and organized."
"I figured as much," Akira replied. "Man likes to spend. Hey, how many computers did he have?"
Morgana scratched at the back of his ear. "None that I could see. Just a lot of big TVs and junk. Why does a guy even need four TVs?"
Akira nodded, twirling a piece of his hair. "Who indeed. I have Futaba and Ohya on standby to give a hand. Just waiting on word from our little hacker."
His phone's distinct pi pi sound alerted him to a new message. He pulled it out and saw that Futaba had indeed just texted him. "Speak of the devil," he muttered.
O: got an update
O: i hear that
J: Are you still spying on me?
O: maybe
O: (←_←)
O: not important tho
O: tried looking the guy up came up with squat
O: just that he likes his expensive shit
J: That's about all that Morgana has figured out. I had him see what's what in his house.
O: ヽ(°〇°)ﾉ mona actually broke into a house
O: sick
J: I'm proud of the cat.
"Not a cat!" Morgana called out over Akira's shoulder.
O: yes you are
O: so yeah dad sent the flash drive this mornin
J: Does he knows he's an accomplice in a potential crime?
O: nah he doesnt need the heartache
J: Good to know. I'll be on the lookout for it. How long will I have to keep it plugged in for?
O: 10 minutes
O: youll need access to his laptop for at least that long
J: Shouldn't be too hard.
J: Thanks, Futaba. Have a good night.
O: going to bed this early (︶︹︺)
O: weak
O: say hi to takemi for me
Just as Akira was about to flop onto his bed, Morgana called out, "Wait! There was something else!"
"What was it?"
"So, the guy just leaves him mail all over the place," he explained. "There is no organization there. So, I was looking them over and I saw a name that came up a lot, and a letter."
"A letter? Like a real letter? Handwritten and everything?"
"Yes! Anyway, it was from some guy called Akiyama. Does that mean anything to you?"
Akira pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, it does. This means it's going further than just the principal. Well, maybe Ohya will get a better story than just a corrupt principal."
4/8: Saturday
María set her jaw as she looked at Akira. "You look like you're planning something."
He looked up from the beans he was grinding with the mortar and pestle. It had been a few weeks since Javier had given him the task of finding his own blend, and he wasn't any closer than he was before.
"What makes you say that?" Akira asked with a grin.
"I wasn't a teenager that long ago, Kurusu," she said, pointing at him with her unlit cigarette. "I know the look in someone's eyes when they're thinking about casuing trouble."
Akira shrugged, going back to his blend. "General shenanigans."
"Suspicious," María said as she lit her cigarette, then shrugged. "Just don't get arrested."
"That's the goal."
4/9: Sunday
As Akira approached the old gym, dressed in his Shujin tracksuit sans sweater, he could see why it was closed down. It wasn't a very large building, and it looked like it should have been condemned long before it was officially shut down.
He had never gone here before his probation, but he questioned exactly how helpful it would have been even if he had. Whatever posters or signs there were had long since been torn off and faded away.
He pushed open the door, which was unlocked, and looked around and couldn't help but be surprised at what he saw. Dead center was a boxing ring. Despite the dilapidated outside, and the dim lighting, it looked like someone was mostly keeping the old place clean. There was even some new-ish looking equipment.
Sounds of fleshing hitting canvas filled his ears. Akira moved further in and was even more shocked that he saw a full-fledged boxing ring sectioned off by itself. Off to the side of the ring was Tanimura, hammering away at a free-standing punching bag.
No sign of the Tweedledee and Tweedledumb, for which Akira was grateful. He was already going to get beaten up, he didn't need it to be a three-on-one affair again. Tanimura himself was dressed in loose-fitting shorts and a white tank top.
As he was throwing punches, Akira's eyes scanned the bench close to himself. On it was a pair of clothes, probably Tanimura's, along with a journal and pen. He raised a brow as he gave a quick skim over the contents.
He couldn't tell much, but it seemed like it was a story that Tanimura was writing. That was the guess, at least. It was too far away to read in detail, but it looked like some high fantasy story. Maybe.
Akira averted his gaze as he heard Tanimura throw one final punch into the bag before turning to Akira. His eyes… brightened?
"Hey, you actually showed!" he said, smiling widely.
That was… more than a little unnerving, Akira thought. The expression didn't look right on Tanimura's face. It wasn't an unpleasant smile, it was surprisingly warm, but the rugged appearance of the delinquent seemed at odds with the genuine happiness.
There was also the tone of voice. Like someone meeting up with an old friend.
Akira looked around the building, searching for any sign of Spike and Pierce. "No friends today?"
"Hell no," Tanimura proclaimed, cracking his knuckles. "Those two dumbasses would only get in our way. I want to fight ya."
Akira grunted and dropped his own school bag onto the floor. He pulled out some tape he bought the day before and started wrapping it around his hands. He was surprised when a pair of MMA gloves were thrown in front of him.
He looked up to Tanimura, putting his own pair on. "Use those. Don't wantcha to break your hand throwing a punch."
"T-thanks?" Akira paused wrapping his hands for a second. "Why do you want to fight me?"
"Cuz I want to," was the simple reply. Tanimura climbed into the ring and bounced in place for a few seconds.
"I gathered that, but—"
"Look," Tanimura interrupted, stopping his pre-fight ritual, or whatever it was. "I like fighting. You're a good fighter. I want to see how good you really are. That's all there is."
"Really?" Akira finished tapping his hands and pulled the gloves on. He slid into the ring and got to his feet, standing just a little taller than Tanimura.
"Really." Tanimura pounded his fists together. "Now, come on!"
Akira cracked his neck and stretched out his shoulders. He pursed his lips and hardened his gaze. He flexed his fingers, took a breath, and lunged.
Pain was something Akira was used to at this point. Fighting Shadows and performing death defying stunts in the Metaverse had made him more tolerable to it. It was how he was able to bounce back pretty quickly after each trip into Mementos.
That didn't mean he was impervious to it though, and the fight with Tanimura was pushing him to his limits.
They'd only been fighting for about five minutes, but after tanking another blow to his mid-section, it felt like hours. Welts and bruises were covering his already damaged body, as Akira was making extra sure to protect his face. He really wanted to avoid a concussion if he could help it.
Tanimura, meanwhile, didn't get hit as often, but the blows he did receive were far more damaging. Akira was precise with where he struck, conserving his own energy, allowing his enemy to tire himself. Even then, the fatigue the two felt was comparable. They were going full speed.
There wasn't much form when it came to Tanimura's punches themselves, but that didn't matter when you were getting hit with a brick over and over again. As he went in for another punch, Akira ducked under it and pushed him away again before running towards one of the turnbuckles.
He wasn't entirely sure if this would work. Normally, this sort of thing only worked in action movies. But, hey, sometimes crazy worked.
He heard Tanimura call out and chase after him, but Akira leapt onto the turnbuckle, then jumped off it and over Tanimura. Akira landed right behind him, and before Tanimura could react, he wrapped his arms around his waist, lifted him up, and fell backwards.
Tanimura's lower neck and upper back were spiked into the canvas, dazing him. Akira didn't waste the opportunity and crawled out from under his opponent and locked him into a tight arm-bar.
As Tanimura flailed beneath him, Akira twisted and pulled on the arm. C'mon, he thought. Give up already!
Tanimura suddenly slapped the mat three times. Akira let him go at the same time releasing a breath he wasn't aware he was holding. They each laid there for a few moments, breathing deeply, before Tanimura began laughing.
Akira looked down at him and breathed out, "What's… so… funny?"
"Nothin'…" Tanimura said. He rolled over onto his back and stared at the lights. "That… was amazin'."
Akira took that in for a minute before letting out a low chuckle as well. It eventually cascaded into wild cackles between the two of them. He wasn't entirely sure why, but this actually was sort of fun.
Not the kind of fun he would ever want to do again, mind you, and he could definitely do without the bruises and the pain.
After they calmed down, they just laid there for a minute. Tanimura asked, "Was that a German suplex? Where the hell did that come from?"
"I mean, suplexes are cool, so…," Akira replied, sitting up despite the jolt that ran through him. He tore off the gloves and threw them to the side. "You hit like a truck."
"It's what I do," Tanimura said, slowly getting to his feet. He stumbled slightly before moving to leave the ring while removing his own gloves. "I have some icepacks and water if you need 'em."
Akira made a grunt of approval, standing up as well. As they both sat outside the ring and nursed their bodies, he looked around the gym. "How often do you come here?"
"Every day," Tanimura said, bringing the water to his lips. He took a few large swallows before letting out a pleased sigh. "Been doin' it for a few years now, even before they closed, and I sure as shit wasn't going to start using the school's equipment."
"Why not?" Akira asked.
"Same as you, I'd bet." Tanimura shook his head. "People always lookin' at me like I'm some fuckin' animal."
Akira snorted. "You do beat people up on a regular basis."
"Well… I do now, yeah, but not then. They still looked at me like some crazy asshole about to explode. I guess it took them treating me like that to become one."
For a long moment, Akira remained quiet. He took another drink. "At end of the day, you made a choice," he said. "I know someone in Tokyo that went through something like you. Difference is, he didn't give in to them. He fought against every damn one of them that called him a 'troublemaker' or a 'delinquent', and he did it by staying true to himself."
Akira leaned closer and said, "So, tell me; does that make what you do okay?"
To his surprise, Tanimura didn't lash out. Instead, he looked to the ground and fiddled with his water bottle. "Heh. Course not."
"Then why—"
"Look, Kurusu, I don't know what you're tryin' to do, but I ain't playing the psychoanalysis game," he interrupted, his gaze hardening as he got to his feet. "I'm not your friend. I got my fight, so you'll get the help. Just tell me when you need me and what you need me to do. After that, we don't owe each other nothin'."
Akira looked him up and down, and then pursed his lips. Tanimura was different than what he was expecting.
Compared to last week, this entire day was almost cordial for the guy. Not once did he bully or belittle Akira. Even during the fight itself, there was no sign of the rabid dog in the alleyway, just a man focused on his goal. He even seemed happy to see Akira when he showed up.
Was this who he really was? Then who was the guy going around and beating on helpless people demanding money? Akira knew not to immediately judge a person based on the first interaction, but they'd known each other for years.
Maybe there was a way to make the Tanimura he saw now stick around.
Akira grimaced. Was this another heart crying out for help? Possibly, he admitted. And if it was, Akira knew he would need to help in some way shape or form.
Tanimura was walking away towards the punching bag when Akira stood and collected his bag. The sounds of flesh hitting leather filled the gym again.
Akira looked over to the journal one more time. He was closer now, and saw it was about some Shonen-type hero fighting an army. That's what he got from the one page anyway.
"Yo, Tanimura," Akira called out.
He stopped punching but didn't turn around. "What?"
"Nakamura-kun and I go workout together every day after school. If you're interested, feel free to join us."
Tanimura turned to look at Akira in bewilderment. "The fuck you offerin' me that for?"
Akira shrugged. "Seemed like the polite thing to do." He grabbed his bag from the ground and threw it over his shoulder. "You never know. You might have fun."
Tanimura snorted. "Yeah. Sure." He went back to the punching bag. "Later, Kurusu."
Later that night, Daisuke looked him up and down over the table. "You know, if you're going to let that friend of yours beat you up, you should at least be wearing protection."
Akira settled into the chair across from his father. His body was stiff. It was probably a bad idea to immediately leave the gym without resting a little more. It was currently screaming at him, telling him, "This is what you get. If Tae were here, she'd kick your ass."
Then Akira would say, "If she were here, she'd take incredible care of me with those magical hands of hers."
Then his body would say, "Yes. Because she wouldn't want to put you at a disadvantage when she kicks your ass."
Then Akira would have to concede the argument. His body was right, after all.
"I'm thinking about ordering some online," he chose to say instead.
Daisuke nods, picking up his cup of coffee and taking a sip. "That would be for the best. Take if from an old man, all that damage done will take its toll one day."
Akira snorted. "I can already feel it coming to collect." He picked up a piece of sushi he had bought for dinner today and dropped it to the floor.
Like a bolt of lightning, Morgana shot from the shadows, snatched it up, and began devouring the poor, defenseless piece of fish. For all of his talk of being a human, he was partaking in very catlike behavior.
Daisuke shook his head. "Why do you feed him your sushi? Anymore and you'll go hungry."
Akira shrugged, then took some sushi for himself. "He likes sushi. Plus, it keeps him quiet for a few minutes."
"I swear, I've never heard of a cat louder than Morgana," Daisuke agreed, taking a drink from his mug.
"Hey!" Morgana called out through a full mouth. "Ahm nt ah ct!"
He was ignored by the two Kurusus.
"Seriously, though," Daisuke said, his attention now fully on Akira. "I'm happy you have a friend, but please, for your own sake, try to take care of yourself? Some bumps and bruises are fine, but you keep this up, I'm not sure how long you'll last."
Akira nodded. "It's fine. We just got a little excited today. I told him that we can't keep up this level every day, so I doubt I'll be coming home looking like this too much."
"Good," Daisuke said, and the conversation quickly changed topics, much to Akira's relief.
4/11: Monday
Akira presented the thumb drive to Nakamura.
"So, that's going to be what takes down Kamiya?" he asked, taking it and looking it over. It looked like any other thumb drive, with the only special marking being this weird cartoon with a large smile on it.
"That's right," Akira said. "I just have to plug that into his computer, everything he has will be installed directly onto it, and I just have to mail it off to our guy."
"Is that even legal?" Nakamura asked, handing the thumb drive back. "I'm pretty sure you can't present illegally obtained evidence in a court of law."
Akira pocketed the drive and looked over his shoulder. Usually, he didn't worry about his and Nakamura's conversations being listened in on, since they were left alone for the most part during their lunch period. There was always a first, however, so that meant Akira needed to be a little bit more careful when discussing sensitive topics.
"Is it illegal if Kamiya accidentally sent them to a reporter, who just so happens to send it to the police?" Akira leaned back in his chair. "I don't think so."
Nakamura let out a low whistle. "Geeze, Kurusu-Senpai. For a nice guy, I'm starting to realize how shady you are."
Akira just shrugged.
Daisuke yawned. He'd woken up in the middle of the night, and he was starving. The perfect concoction for a late-night snack. He lumbered out of his room, and noticed the fridge was opened and someone was rummaging through it.
Probably just Akira, he thought, his brain not completely awake yet.
As he was about the say something, the door closed, but there was no Akira to be seen. He blinked a few times, rubbed his eyes then looked again.
Still nothing.
Then he looked down.
He saw Morgana, Akira's pet cat, with a piece of the sandwich meat Daisuke had bought the other day in his mouth, making his way back towards the stairs.
The two locked eyes for a second, and Daisuke could have sworn he saw guilt flashed in the cat's eyes. Morgana mewled, then dashed up the stairs.
Daisuke took a moment, turned around, and went back to bed.