A Peculiar Liaison
"Don't worry. I'll do something about it. Everything will be fine."
Makoto had repeated those words several times to different people in the past week. Rumors of Shujin students getting blackmailed by the mafia were spreading like wildfire. Wherever she went, it was on the students' lips in the halls and spoken in hushed whispers in the teacher's lounge.
"It's like, actual mafia right?"
"They go around saying it's a sweet part-time job, but they're actually making you do something illegal!"
"What? No way!"
"I heard some kid in my class was a victim, but hey, not my problem!"
"Shouldn't the teachers and student council be doing something?"
"Psh. That's if they even feel like bothering. They didn't care about Mr. Kamoshida's abuse, remember?"
Makoto bit the inside of her mouth, drawing blood. The principal was in hysterics.
"It would be bad enough if it was just one victim or two but the rumors say there's actual criminal activity. Criminal activity, Niijima-san! Did you not hear me?!"
"Well, um, I did mention that to you before, sir…" she said as respectfully but assertively as she could.
"We've had parents of our students inquiring about these rumors. How could this happen to me?!" howled the principal, kneading his flabby frog-like face in both hands.
In her heart she despaired. It was clear the principal only cared about his own image and would not listen to reason.
"This is the greatest failure in the history of this school! If word gets out, it could affect the future of our business..."
The principal was in denial. All panicked reactions to those rumors were preceded by a preposterous "if". IF their students were involved in criminal activity, IF they were being blackmailed, IF an actual criminal syndicate was involved, then it was probably connected to the Phantom Thieves somehow and thus...
"Th-this is the student council's responsibility!" He jabbed one stubby sausage-sized finger at her. "I thought I told you to find a solution! I'm busy enough as it is, so I thought I could count on you to take care of this little problem!"
She bowed her head. "I'm doing everything in my power, sir."
"From what I hear, the student body is growing more and more dissatisfied with you."
Her voice caught in her throat. The principal's small beady eyes gleamed with eerie calm. His normally wide, slack mouth formed a sinister grin.
"I suggest you find a solution quickly, Niijima-san. At this rate, you will soon have no place in this school."
...
Makoto suppressed a shudder and quickened her pace. It was too cold keeping to the shady alleys of Central Street. But according to her sources, this is where the rumored scouters could be found preying on high school students desperate to make some easy money.
"Where are they? I hope they're taking this seriously. We're running out of time..." she muttered under her breath.
Her shoe kicked a pebble, sending it rolling into a stagnant back alley. Her eyes followed its path and when she turned the corner, she spotted a familiar profile. Slim frame, a height of approximately 175 cm, slightly taller than the average height for a Japanese male, sporting frames as dark as his untamable mess of curls.
Ren Amamiya - Poking around one of the few deserted blocks of Central Street. The pebble she had sent skittering across the pavement caused him to look up.
She marched over. He appeared to balk at her sudden appearance. Such was the standard reaction from seeing the student council president, she reasoned ruefully. Even as she sighed inwardly, she attempted a polite smile and greeted him with the common pleasantries.
"How goes the investigation?"
Amamiya shrugged. "It is what it is."
"I see." she said crisply. "It's nice to see you're taking the investigation seriously. But I think it would be in your best interest to follow me. This way."
His eyes followed her before his feet did. Surveillance he was already used to. Morgana had prepped them beforehand. Keep a low profile while paying attention to your surroundings, see what you can use to your advantage - such is the way of a noble Phantom Thief. But not at this level.
"Problem?" she asked tersely.
"None whatsoever." he said through a forced smile.
"I see."
If looks could kill!
Ren swallowed his saliva. His gait became increasingly stilted as they approached a narrow alley. He could feel her cold glare on his back. Like daggers. Or shuriken. Or some spiky punchy weapon thing.
I feel like if I look back, she'll bite my head off. Is this why she brought us to this secluded alley? She's gonna pick us off one by one. Starting with the leader...
"So, why are we together again…?"
"Just this once." she responded, her tone matter-of-fact. "Two pairs of eyes are better than one, right? A source told me we could find scouts around here. They look for teenagers who look like they're down on their luck. By the way, do you have any information you'd like to share?"
"Such as…?" He tilted his head to the side.
"Any progress towards finding the boss?" she replied, trying to keep the impatience from her voice.
He nodded. "We talked to several people at school. One of them mentioned Central Street was the place to go."
"Iida-kun, right?"
His eyes asked her how she knew.
"Iida-kun came to me for advice. The rumors are getting to him..."
There was sympathy behind those sharp eyes of hers, not for poor Iida but for him. Ren wasn't about to ask why.
"What's the matter?"
"Nothing." Amamiya fiddled with his hair. "So, uh, what do you plan on doing if we find those recruiters?"
That downcast glance. That slouched posture, as if he were trying to make himself as small as possible. His hands were in his pockets, probably to hide the fact that they were shaking. He was frightened. Just like her council members. Just like all the students who flooded the student suggestion box in their panic. Just like Iida.
...
"President Niijima, why aren't you doing anything about this?"
The accusation stung but Makoto allowed the outburst. Iida was panicking and needed a place to vent.
"The rumors are spreading like crazy! Even that delinquent transfer student knows! He tried extorting me over it too!"
Endure it. Just endure it for now.
"President Niijima, aren't you going to help me?"
Things were always going to get worse before they got better.
"Why is it always me?" Iida whined.
That's what I want to say.
But she knew as the student council president she had to remain calm. Calm and always in control of her emotions.
"Hang in there just a little longer." she told him. "I've turned up some clues that should help..."
"Really? Are you sure you aren't just saying that? I can trust you, right?" Iida cried desperately.
Even her words of reassurance sounded fake in her own ears.
Makoto clutched her arm. "I do want to keep everybody here safe, yes…"
"Then DO something! You're the only one I can turn to! Please…!"
The principal had averted his eyes. The teachers had clamped their ears shut. The students did both, hiding behind some flimsy belief that everything would sort itself out.
That's why it was up to her. She had to protect the students. No one else would.
...
"It's all right. I will handle this."
Amamiya tilted his head in the other direction. She leveled her gaze.
"You're worried about what to do when we encounter them, yes? I will ask the questions. You can just stand there and listen in."
Ren sighed quietly.
This girl. Always trying to dominate the situation. Did she really think she was in control of everything? ...Or that she had to be?
"I feel sorry for you…" he said softly.
Makoto slowly turned around. It wasn't said out of pity or in a condescending manner. Nor was he calling her pitiable or pathetic which is what most people meant when they told her they "felt sorry" for her. He just said it.
"What? "
That tone would've frozen anyone's blood. That glare would have frozen them in their tracks. They would have immediately cowered and apologized profusely. But this young man faced her head on. He tore past that abrasive barrier. That invisible shield she donned daily to bear the toils and demands that increased day after passing day. Two roiling emotions clashed inside her. Why? Why did this boy's words affect her so?
Amamiya sighed quietly again. "That you feel like you have to do this."
"I'm the student council president. It's expected of me."
"Is that right?"
She balled her hands into fists. "You wouldn't understand. And I don't need you to feel sorry for me. Shouldn't you save that sympathy for yourself?"
A vague gesture was all she could manage. She didn't want to finish. And he knew what she meant.
"You mean throw myself a pity party? Tried that for a while. Wasn't working for me." He shrugged contemplatively. "So I moved on."
She watched him pace around, bewildered.
"What changed you...?" she asked cautiously.
He gave her a wry chuckle. "Who knows? Maybe it's the friends I've made. Maybe it's because I realized I'm not the only one who's suffering. Maybe it's because I decided I'm done moping around."
He stopped suddenly and looked her straight in the eye. "I've got more important things to do. It's not just about me anymore. What about you, Niijima-san? You say it's your duty, but are you really doing all this work because you feel obligated?"
Her gaze wavered for a moment. "What - what are you saying?"
"It's okay to ask for help." he said simply.
She grit her teeth. "I don't - I just need your cooperation. Until I get this problem fixed. You do your part and I'll do mine. Then I won't trouble you anymore. You won't have to deal with me after this… That's what everyone wants, right...?"
He watched her with a slight frown on his face. She clenched and unclenched her fists. Her shoes ground gravel. Her breathing came in short bursts, expelled through narrow nostrils. It was like she was constantly fighting within herself.
"Hey…"
"Do we have an understanding?" she asked so sharply, it made him jerk back involuntarily.
"Fine. Yeah. Sure."
She glared. He stared back, unperturbed.
"Do we have an understanding, Amamiya-kun?" she repeated more sternly.
It appeared she didn't accept flippant answers.
"Deal. As long as you uphold your end." he said evenly.
"You don't need to worry about that." She thrust out her chin. "I don't make promises I can't keep."
"That's a relief."
She frowned, perturbed by his soft smile.
"I've met a lot of people who took back what they said as soon as it was to their advantage. So hearing you say something like that is assuring."
"You don't even know me." She narrowed her eyes. "What makes you think I won't do the same? Maybe I will decide to turn in that recording after this."
He smirked. "You came to us first asking us to prove our justice. I'm willing to bet on that."
"Just based on that?"
"And you address me by name."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
She crossed her arms. He shrugged.
"We're in this together, like it or not. Got plenty of enemies and not enough allies as it is. We have more than our fair share of troubles and barely any information to work with. I figure since we're working together, we might as well get along. So I'm choosing to trust you."
His countenance was softened by a warm friendly smile. "I hope you'll do the same. 'Cause I don't see this working any other way."
Makoto stared at him, lips parted but unable to speak. But deep down she knew he was right.
Amamiya jerked his head up, his expression guarded. "I think someone's coming."
"Yo, yo, yo! You two got some time? I gots a sweet part-time job for you. Real easy and it only takes a few minutes - promise. Pays in cash too. Loads of cash. Interested?"
A man dressed in a purple paisley shirt and cheap black loafers sauntered up to them.
"Looks like the information was spot on. He must be one of the recruiters we're looking for." she whispered discreetly before confidently addressing the Overly-friendly Guy. "Excuse me! About this job..."
"Wait-" he muttered, as she shot past him.
The Student Council President was all atwitter. It was certainly better acting than one of his teammates.
"What sorts of things would we do for this 'sweet part-time job' specifically?"
The recruiter splayed both palms. "Oh, it's easy! Totally simple! A quick little delivery kinda thing. That's it!"
"A delivery, huh? You wouldn't be asking us to carry anything dangerous, would you?" she inquired with the appropriate mix of naïve curiosity giving way to temptation.
Overly-friendly Guy laughed raucously and wiped away a fake tear. "HA-HA! That's a funny one, miss. Real funny."
Makoto smiled primly. "Huh. So you won't answer me. Then, as I thought-"
The not-so Overly-friendly Guy rounded on her. His breath reeked of tobacco and smoke.
"Ahn?! You're a nosy little kitty cat, aren'tcha? Know what happens to nosy little kitty cats? Huh? How's about a guess, sweetheart?"
Makoto stepped back reflexively, drawing back her dominant fist. The reason for those brambly-looking rings on his fingers was now obvious. This punk was used to hitting people and he made sure it hurt. High school girls were no exception.
"Um-"
In the space of a blink, Amamiya stepped between her and the punk.
"Violence is not the answer."
Overly-friendly Guy clicked his tongue. He shoved Amamiya's shoulder but the boy stood his ground.
"Forget it! You kids ain't worth my time. Learn to take a joke, dumbass!"
The punk turned on his heel and shambled back towards Central Street.
Makoto dug her nails into her trembling hands.
They had gotten this far. She just needed a name!
"Hey!" she called as loudly as she dared. "I-if you don't want to deal with us, we could always go see your boss ourselves."
Overly-friendly Guy swiveled his head and leered at her. Her body tensed up as if someone had slipped ice down her back.
"You're either dumber than you look or you have a death wish. You don't know who you're messing with, sweetheart. Welp, I'm outta here. Im'ma go find someone else."
Makoto waited for the alleged mafia member to disappear out of sight and earshot before facing Amamiya.
"How suspicious. I'm pretty sure he's part of the mafia we're looking for." she said, with a perturbed frown.
Amamiya nodded assent. "Aren't you gonna go after him?"
She shook her head wearily. "No. We don't have any proof. He'd probably just give us the runaround again. I tried to trick him into saying something, but he dodged all the traps I was laying down."
Amamiya made no reply. He only slipped his hands in his pockets and raised two incredulous brows.
She looked at him askance. "W-what is it?"
"Nothing. Um, I'm just glad you didn't get hurt." he mumbled, tugging on his bangs.
"Oh. Yeah…" She too, reached for a loose strand of hair and plucked at it.
Makoto brought her hand to her chin. There was no way such a meek answer would scare off someone who was in with the mafia. It made her wish she had been able to see beyond Amamiya's broad back. What sort of expression did he bear at that moment?
Their eyes met.
"By the way… thanks for standing up for me."
His eyes widened in surprise but his following expression was unreadable. Makoto gave him a curt nod.
"I'm going to go now."
She flew out the alley. Her mind replayed the last few moments over and over. His words, his actions exuding undeniable courage flooded her senses.
"What a strange person… Why did he defend me? He didn't have to..."
Her bag straps slipped down her arm. She gripped them tightly and broke into a run.
"He could've just left me. Why didn't he just leave me be? Why did he have to step in and-"
And WHY am I still thinking about this?!
She knew why. That niggling feeling that wormed away at her conscience and wouldn't let her rest until she addressed it. She had treated him unfairly and she had to make things right. Before the day was over.
But what if he didn't understand? What if he had already forgotten? What if what he did meant nothing to him and she was making a big deal out of nothing?
She imagined the possible scenarios. He would be with his friends. He would scoff, act incredulous, which would be answered with stifled snorts and giggling in the background. Then they would have a good laugh about it afterwards. Seriously? She called just for that? That Niijima. Stuck up, goody two-shoes President Niijima, always trying to get on people's good side for her own benefit. Always overcompensating with that ingratiating sophisticated speech of hers. Always trying to make up for her shortcomings. Too late now!
Or he would be home. He would pick up. Call her a stalker. Call this an invasion of privacy. She would apologize and attempt to explain but there would be nothing but cold silence on his end. The receiver clicking would tell her their conversation and this temporary alliance was over. And she wouldn't blame him for it.
But what if he was different after all…? Different from all the rest?
"You address me by name."
"Then...why don't I make a bet myself?" she murmured into her fingers.
But how? And where was home for him? Or rather where was he staying in Tokyo? Did he have his own apartment? Was he staying with a friend or relative? What did his school record say?
She stopped in her tracks. "Right. The school record. They should have a phone number listed under his address."
"Leblanc Café. How may I help you?"
A gruff, baritone voice greeted her. Had she dialed the wrong number? She quickly double checked the school record. It was Ren Amamiya's file. The number matched the address. But a café?
"G-good afternoon, sir. Um, sorry to bother you but is Amamiya-kun there? I'd like to speak with him if possible."
She heard the man click his tongue and mutter, "What'd the kid do now?"
Her heart sank. Even his guardian - if it was his guardian, thought he was a troublemaker.
"Are you a teacher, ma'am? Did he give you trouble at school?"
"Oh no, he's not in trouble." she replied, sitting up straighter. "On the contrary, he helped me- Pardon me! Where are my manners? I'm the Class President of Shujin Academy and I-"
"Class President, huh? Now that's a different story. What can I do for you?" chortled his alleged guardian.
"I was wondering if I could get his number? I have something that belongs to him and I'd like to return it to him as soon as possible."
The man's laughter was colored by a worldly-wise weariness but the earnestness and innocence in this young lady's voice brought him back to the simpler days of his youth.
"Say no more, Miss Class President. He's out right now but he'll probably be back around evening. Curfew and all." He tapped something that sounded like glass. "Got a pen and paper ready?"
She stared at the handwritten note. It was easier than expected and she had the good sense to maintain a respectful attitude during their brief conversation in spite of her nervousness. Now she just had to push the green button.
But what if he-
Before her nerves could take over, she quickly pressed it with both thumbs.
*calling*
She held her breath. Each ring of the dial tone seemed to increase in volume along with the blood pounding louder and harder between her ears.
He wasn't going to pick up. Of course not. Who would answer an unknown number? At the very least she could leave a message. But wait, did he even have a voicemail?
No, wait. She needed to rehearse what she was going to say. And quick!
On the fifth ring she expected to be dropped but then came the click she was waiting for. Someone had picked up. There was silent static for a moment then a polite but cautious, "Hello?"
"A-Amamiya-kun? This is Niijima. Makoto Niijima... I, um, wanted to say thanks for earlier."
He was silent on the other end.
He was creeped out. Of course he would be. Getting a call from an unknown number from a girl he barely knew, who had barely spoken a kind word to him.
She felt a twinge of guilt.
"You must be wondering how I got your number. I...dug it up. I duly apologize and I realize while I am apologizing after the fact, it didn't feel right keeping it from you, so..."
Crackles of static were heard from the end of the receiver. She held her breath again.
"It's fine. Take care of yourself, Niijima-san."
"Y-you too! Um, that's all I wanted to say. Bye."
Morgana popped over his shoulder.
"Who was that just now?"
"The Council President." Ren whispered, still staring at his phone quizzically.
"How did she- I'd like to say I'm surprised but at this point, she's proven to be pretty resourceful. That Niijima could give detectives a run for their money. Thorough to boot!" Morgana growled warily.
Sojiro looked up from his polishing as if he understood their conversation and confirmed he had received a message from said Student Council President asking for his number. Ren thanked him, politely excused himself, and went upstairs.
When he reached the top, he heaved a long sigh and rolled his eyes. That cheeky grin and tone was deliberate. Was Sojiro going to do this with every girl he talked to?
Sorry, Niijima-san. I hope Boss didn't say anything weird to you.
He plopped down on his bed.
Sounds like she got home safely. But she sounded a little nervous. Shy even. Heh. I didn't even know she could do shy.
"I hope she's doing okay..."
Morgana joined him. "Then again, she called just to say thank you, right? That's actually pretty nice."
"Yeah." he murmured, smiling faintly as he turned his phone over. "Maybe she's not so bad after all."
Makoto set her phone down. A heavy weight fell from her chest. She could breathe freely now.
For the first time, in a long time, she felt like she had done something right. Perhaps more importantly, she knew she had done right by someone.
Although neither of them knew nor expected it at the time, there was a growing sense of solidarity between them that would flourish and greatly enrich their lives than if they had parted ways.