—Chapter 8—Saturday, April 30th, Morning—

She'd had to walk for a while before even the earliest shuttles were running, and even after she found one, it didn't go all the way to the police station—but it got her to within a mile. As part of the Systems of Justice course, first-years go on a field trip to the police station, so she already knew exactly where she was going. She'd had such a singular focus for what she was doing, felt such clear purpose—she was doing something about what had happened to her, and that lifted her up.

Stepping through the automatic doors of the station, she marched right up to the front desk and set her bag on the counter. Without waiting to be greeted by the secretary, she stated her purpose for being there. "Hello, I'd like to file a restraining order against my ex-boyfriend. He drugged me with Rohypnol and attempted to assault me. I have samples of the beer he gave me and a urine sample taken within two days, and here are the Dragendorff tests I conducted on each of them this morning, showing positive results," she said, barely pausing to breathe as she unloaded her bag full of solutions onto the counter.

The secretary looked at her, dumbfounded. "Dragon what? Honey, is that your piss?"

Makoto blinked, unfazed by the secretary's reaction. "This is a urine sample I took this morning that tested positive for benzodiazepine."

"Okay, got it," said the secretary. "And your name is…?"

"Niijima. Makoto Niijima."

"Ms. Niijima… Why don't you take your… things, here, and go have a seat. I'll send an officer out to take your statement in just a few minutes."

"Okay, thank you very much," said Makoto, gathering her things. As instructed, she sat down in the waiting area of the police station and looked around, passing her time by taking note of everything going on there. The soundtrack of workaday noises hummed with bureaucracy, efficiency, and collegiality. Every surface was busy with something: resources, references, notices… The occasional poster was meant to help break the monotony of the purely utilitarian aesthetic—posters for various help lines: sexual assault, domestic abuse, drug dependence, suicide prevention—but they only added to the dreariness. There were so many things to worry about in this line of work. So many things people needed help with.

Still—she looked forward to the day when she could sit on the other side of the counter.

In the upper corner of the waiting area, mounted to the wall, was a small television that ran the local news. It was muted, but the captions were on:

'—body was found on the west end of Utsunomiya, just north of the Academy of Justice and Policing. The death follows a pattern, matching a similar profile to two other deaths reported earlier this month. All three victims, men between the ages of twenty and forty-five years of age, were killed by multiple stab wounds to their—'

"Excuse me, Ms. Niijima?"

Makoto was startled by the sudden interruption, and jumped in surprise. Standing up suddenly, she greeted the officer awkwardly. "Uh, yes! I'm Makoto Niijima."

"My name is Officer Kurosawa. I understand you're here to file for an order of protection? Why don't you come with me and I'll take your statement."

"Thank you very much," she said, bowing politely. She followed the officer further into the station, and took a seat opposite him at his desk.

"Okay, let's start with your address," he said, grabbing a pen and a clipboard stuffed with paper. He began by writing her name.

"Four-dash-two Sanjuro-cho, Utsunomiya," she replied.

"Thank you. And can you tell me the name of the person against whom you'd like to file the order?" he asked, clicking his pen absentmindedly.

"Tetsuo Watanabe."

"And what is your relationship to Mister Watanabe?"

"He was my boyfriend," began Makoto. "We'd been dating for about three months, but on Thursday night, he tried to assault me by drugging me with Rohypnol, then he attacked my friend. I also found out he made a copy of my house key without my permission. He made explicit threats, and we're afraid he might still try to harm us."

"And do you think you were sexually assaulted?" asked the officer.

"My panties had been pulled down and my blouse unbuttoned, but my friend prevented it from going further than that."

"So we won't be needing a rape kit?"

"No, Officer."

"Well, that's good. Now, the secretary mentioned something about some… samples?"

"Yes, I brought several things with me…" she said, beginning to open her bag.

The officer stopped her. "Miss, why don't you just tell me what you brought with you."

"I have the beer that was drugged, a urine sample I collected this morning, and the positive Dragendorff tests for both." She paused, noticing the wrinkle that had appeared in the officer's forehead. "I'm in Forensic Chemistry at the Academy…" she added, by way of explanation.

"Yes, wow. That's… thorough," he said, as professionally as he could muster. "Well, I can take the beer and the urine samples into evidence, but we prefer to run our own tests. Ideally, we'd like to collect our own urine sample as well. Would that be possible?"

Makoto thought about it. "Well, I collected this not that long ago, so maybe. I don't know if there's… much left," she admitted, somewhat embarrassed.

"That's alright, whatever you can produce will be fine. We can use your original sample, it's just that the evidence is stronger if we know exactly where it came from. You said the attempted assault was Thursday night? You could come back later this afternoon to produce a fresh sample, if necessary."

"I understand," she said.

"And you understand that this protection order covers only you, not your friend, right? If they believe they're in danger, they need to file their own order."

"Yes, Officer."

"And, this protection order is only temporary. You'll have to go to court to make your case against your abuser to extend the order. If you fail to show up at your court date, your temporary order will expire and you'll have to start the process over again. Is all of that clear?"

"Yes, Officer."

"Very good. I'll get this paperwork filed right away. Watch your mailbox for information about your court date."

"My mailbox…" said Makoto.

"That's correct. Is there anything else you'd like to report?"

"Uh, no, I think that's all. Thank you." Makoto stood up, and was about to turn around and walk out.

"Ms. Niijima?" he said, before she could leave.

"Yes?"

"Your sample?" he reminded her.

"Oh! Right, sorry. What do I need to do?"

"Head through that door and tell the officer back there you need to provide a urine sample. He'll help you from there."

"Okay, thank you very much."

"You're very welcome. Good luck, Ms. Niijima."

Makoto nodded, then headed for the door he'd indicated. Inside, everything went exactly as the officer had said it would. After providing another little dribble of evidence into one of their special cups, Makoto headed out and found herself standing outside the station. She'd done what she came here to do. So why did she feel so deflated?

Makoto pulled out her phone to check the time, but the screen was black—she'd forgotten to turn it on when she left this morning. Oops. Turning it on, it exploded with notifications. Three missed calls and a litany of text messages from four different people. OOPS.

As her apps finished loading, she began by reading her messages. From Ren:

Hey, did you make it home? Let me know where you are
Bump
Hello?
Seriously, tell me where you are
I just talked to Jiro, and he says you're not at Emiko and Naomi's house either
So where are you?
You're not answering your phone
If you're alive, you're in big trouble

Shit… she thought. She was going to have to make that up to him. She took a seat on a nearby bench to finish reading her messages.

From Emiko:

Hey, morning Mako
Did you sleep well?
When you get a chance, let me know where you are
Hey, just checking in
Jiro is here getting bombarded with texts from Ren wanting to know where you are
I just tried calling, but it went straight to vm
Please give us a call when you get a chance
Ren is really worried
(So are we!)

From Naomi:

Makoooooo were r u?
Did we drive u awaylast nite lol
Pls let us know where ur at
Ren is so worried i just love him lol

When she finally got home, she would have her tail between her legs. With an irate ex-boyfriend and a serial killer on the loose, she had vanished into thin air without leaving so much as a note on the fridge, and now her whole circle of friends was out there, freaking out over her. She would have to remedy this, and quickly.

But first, she had one more set of texts to read.

Makoto
I'm still willing to take you back, you know
Please give me a call when you get a chance
I want to work things out
I love you

Jesus fucking Christ. Makoto stood up. She didn't feel like she'd gotten a lot out of her trip to the police station, but she wasn't finished with her work yet. She still had a locksmith to call, then she could retake her home. Before that, though, she needed to call her friends before they called the cops.

Opening her voice mail, she saw she had missed two calls from Ren and one from Emiko. As she began her walk back to the shuttle stop, she listened. First, the message from Emiko:

"Hi Mako-chan, I'm just calling to check up on you. I wasn't worried when I saw you'd left, but Ren has apparently been trying to track you down all morning? He says he's tried texting and calling, and now so have I. Please give someone a call back and let us know how you're doing. Okay, hope to talk to you soon, byeee!"

She doesn't sound too worried, thought Makoto. The text messages made it sound a lot more urgent. Now, to listen to Ren's messages:

"Morning, Makoto, just wondering where you are… I don't know when you left, if it was this morning or sometime in the middle of the night, and I'm just sort of worried, given, you know… everything that's going on right now, sooooo… Yeah, just give me a call and let me know you're not dead. 'Kay, thanks, bye."

There was another call from Ren after that, but he didn't leave a second message. Before she could decide which of them to call back first, her phone started ringing in her hand. "Hello?" she answered.

"Makoto!" cried Emiko. "There you are! You know everyone's been worried sick about you, right?"

Makoto grimaced. "I know, I'm so sorry, I just finished listening to all my messages… I had turned my phone off earlier to get it to charge faster, and I was in such a zone this morning that I just totally forgot to turn it back on. I'm sorry."

"Well, I'm just glad everything's okay. Everything is okay, right? You know there was another stabbing last night? It was on the news this morning."

"Yeah, I heard something about that."

"Jiro says it was right by their dorm."

Holy shit. Makoto was taken aback. She'd been right there when it happened. She really did need to be more careful. "Jesus, wow, that's… really close."

"I know… Anyway, have you talked to Ren yet? He sounds a little desperate to hear from you…"

"No, not yet. I was just deciding who I should call first when my phone rang."

"Okay, well, get on that then. Throw the poor guy a bone."

"I will. Talk to you later."

"Okay, see you later. Byyye!"

Makoto smiled, "Bye, Emi." She hung up. Sighing, she went back to her call log, looking for Ren's number. It barely rang once before he picked up.

"Jesus fucking Christ, I thought you were dead!" he said, answering the phone.

Makoto took a seat at the shuttle stop, screwing up her face at his response. "I gathered you did, I'm so sorry."

"When did you leave?"

"This morning. I got up early and went back to the house to shower and dress. My phone was almost dead, so I turned it off to charge faster, and then just forgot to turn it back on."

"How could you forget to turn it back on? Did you forget that the shit is actively hitting the fan? Where the hell did you go after you got dressed?"

"I was in a zone… I took the beer to the chem lab, and just got so into everything, that I forgot about everything else…"

Ren sighed. "You went to the lab?"

"Yeah. And then to the cops."

Ren was silent for a long moment. "So it was positive."

"Yeah," she replied. The shuttle pulled up to the stop, and Makoto stood up.

"Shit," he said, taking another deep breath. "I'm really sorry, Makoto. I really didn't want to be right about that."

"I know you didn't," she said. "But it's alright. I feel like I'm getting control of things. This is progress." She flashed her I.D. at the driver and sat down in the shuttle.

"What are you going to do now?" he asked.

"Well," she said, sighing. "I think now I'm going to call a locksmith and try to get back into my house. I'd prefer not to have to spend another night on Naomi's couch listening to them… level up," she grumbled.

Ren let out a short laugh. "Ahem. Right." There was a brief awkward pause. "So," he said, "I'll talk to you later, then?"

"Yeah, later. I'm so sorry again for making you worry."

"It's fine, don't worry. We'll talk later."

"Okay, I—" she stopped mid-sentence, changing course. "We'll talk later. Bye, Ren."

"Bye," he said, and ended the call.

—Saturday, April 30th, Afternoon—

The locksmith was unavailable all the way through to Friday. Facing nearly an entire week of couch surfing, Makoto was feeling very down in the dumps by the time she made it back to the house.

She opened the door and stepped inside to find Naomi on the couch with a book, and Emiko in the kitchen making lunch. Mercifully, Jiro was gone when she arrived. He was a nice guy, and she liked him just fine, but right now, just… no.

"You made it back!" shouted Emiko.

"Yes, I'm sorry. Again, I'm sorry," said Makoto, feeling sheepish. And repetitive.

"It's alright, we get it," said Naomi. "You get so serious sometimes when you have important things to do, you sometimes forget about other stuff."

"Yeah, I do, but just because I do it all the time doesn't make it alright. I didn't mean to worry everyone."

"Ren was the only one who was really worried," said Emiko. "You've always been an early bird—I wasn't so surprised to see that you'd left early.

Yeah, well, you didn't know I'd come from across town, she thought. Ren's worry wouldn't seem as out of left field if they'd known she'd actually spent the night at his place. Not one to gossip, she didn't bring that up—there were more pressing concerns at hand anyway. "I had to get to the chem lab. I tested that beer for date rape drugs."

Both women stopped what they were doing and really looked at her. "And?" said Emiko.

"He did it," she said, nodding ruefully.

"Oh my gosh," said Naomi. "I don't believe it. I mean, I believe it, I just don't believe it…"

"What now?" asked Emiko.

"I have a locksmith coming to the house on Friday. Until then, I guess I just hang out here…"

"I mean about the beer. About Tetsuo."

"Oh, I went to the cops already. I filed for a temporary restraining order, but I have to go to court before it's official."

"And until then? I mean, I know we've studied this, so I feel sort of stupid for asking, but… what actually happens after you file for protection? Are you protected?"

Makoto shook her head. "I don't know," she said. "I sort of get the feeling that all it really does is… order them to leave you alone. I don't really see the teeth in that though. I don't know what enforcement there is…"

"Has he tried to contact you?"

Makoto pulled her phone out of her pocket and opened up her text messages. "He sent me that," she said, pushing her phone across the table to Emiko. Naomi got up from the couch and scurried over to see.

Emiko's jaw dropped as she read the messages. "'I'm still willing to take you back'? Does he have brain damage?"

Makoto gave a sad chuckle.

"This is unreal," she said, handing Makoto back her phone. "Isn't your sister a prosecutor? Have you tried talking to her?"

Makoto cocked her head, considering this bit of advice. "You know, that's a good idea. I hadn't considered that."

"You should call her," said Naomi. "Big sisters are supposed to help with stuff like this, prosecutors or not."

—

"Honey, I'm hooooome," shouted Jiro cheerfully as he popped his head through the door. He came home to find Ren pretty much exactly where he'd left him: Sitting at his desk with an open textbook.

"Welcome back," greeted Ren. "Have a good night?"

"Ohmygod, yes I did. I have officially seen naked lady parts. You're looking at a man, man."

Ren scoffed, dropping his pencil into his book. "Sounds very mature. I hope you used protection."

Jiro shook his head. "Wasn't necessary. We enjoyed some delicious third-base action, but I was a total gentleman. An absolute, generous lover." He puffed up his chest, smiling proudly.

Ren rubbed his forehead uncomfortably, sighing. "That's… commendable. Good job."

"You appear to have done nothing but study all night, though… That's so lame. Sorry, buddy. Well! Good news! I have some time today—I can study with you!"

"Thanks," said Ren simply.

Jiro plopped himself down in his desk chair, facing Ren. Splaying his hands out in wonderment, he declared, "I shall teach you the ways to woo the womenfolk…"

"I'm okay with sticking to just crime stuff, if that's alright, but if you want to make it alliterative, I can accommodate that."

"You're no fun at all," said Jiro.

—Sunday, May 1st, Afternoon—

"What time is it?" asked Naomi. She could've checked her own phone, but she didn't.

"It's… Three-oh-eight," said Makoto. "Seven more minutes."

"I can't believe you're going to be gone for the rest of Golden Week. This sucks," grumbled her friend.

"She comes back Friday morning, Naomi—it's not the whole week," corrected Emiko.

"Well, practically the whole week," she said. "I still can't believe that dumb locksmith couldn't get to you any sooner than Friday…"

"Yeah, well, he said he was on vacation. It is Golden Week, after all—out of town through Children's Day."

"Lame," said Naomi, her tongue sticking out. "Golden Week won't be the same without you. Stupid Tetsuo…"

"Stupid Tetsuo," agreed Makoto.

"Nice for you to get a few days with your sister, though," said Emiko.

"Yeah, I haven't seen her since Christmas. She just came up for a day, on her way to Fukushima. It was nice to see her, but it was over too quickly."

"She's a busy woman," said Emiko.

"She is," said Makoto. "It'll be good to see her." Makoto checked her phone: 3:15pm. Any minute now.

"What's poor Ren gonna do while you're gone?" said Naomi.

"Yeah," said Emiko. "You've been hogging Jiro all this time—Ren has no one to talk to!"

"I texted with him this morning," said Makoto. "He's been busying himself by studying and training. He wants to test out of Intermediate Bladed Arts."

"Is he that good with a knife?" asked Emiko. They could hear the train approaching.

"He's pretty good," said Makoto, a small smile tugging at her lips. Sleeps with a blade on his ankle and everything.

"Aww, it's here!" whined Naomi, as the train pulled up, screeching to a halt. "Text us every day! But say 'hi' to your sister! And bring us back something!"

Makoto laughed, hugging her friends. "I will, I promise." Emiko and Naomi took turns each giving her a kiss on the cheek. Pulling away, she gave each of them a look overflowing with affection. With a distinct lack of enthusiasm, she stepped up to the train, suitcase in hand. The doors opened, and in she climbed. "Byyye! Take care!" she shouted, waving at them from the door.

Proceeding further inside, she scanned the train for a good seat facing the platform. Finding somewhere suitable, she sat down and waved to her friends once again. The train pulled away, and she watched as her friends got smaller and smaller, waving to her as she left them behind, onwards, to Tokyo.