TACO Run

Chapter 26

Once Nao was gone, Makoto tucked a strand of hair back and smiled up at mister Olberic easily. "So!" she said brightly. "Do you have any plans for today?"

He shook his head, frowning slightly. "I had thought I would return with the Truthseeker, but as he said, there is naught for me to do, save train."

"Well, there's not really an excess of room for that here," Makoto admitted. Even with a decent floor-plan, their furniture took up the space he would need. "Though I guess we could move things around a bit, if you wanted."

"There is no need," mister Olberic demurred. "I would not wish to put you out."

"Oh, it's no problem at all!" Makoto assured him. "It's probably a good thing, actually… Nao and I are decent housekeepers, but we probably ought to clean under the couch and such."

"Ah."

It only took a minute or two to move the couch up against the wall, and sweep up the dust, shed hair, and dropped food-wrappers that had accumulated over time. Thankfully it wasn't a lot, but Makoto still felt a little embarrassed.

Still, doing that gave mister Olberic enough space to do basic strength-training exercises like push-ups and such, and the cleaning had been put off for too long anyway.

Makoto perched on the edge of the couch once she was done, chin cupped in her hands. A smile tugged at her mouth, because he'd taken off the denim button-up she'd picked out for him so as not to get it all sweaty, and the grey t-shirt she'd given him beneath that fit very, very well. After a few minutes, though, she spoke up. "You don't mind if I ask you questions, do you?"

He paused in stretching just long enough to answer her. "Not at all."

"Thanks!" Grinning to herself, Makoto bounced off the couch and fetched herself a cup of juice from the fridge as she started asking him questions about where he'd come from, what it was like, the people there, etc. She wouldn't really do anything with the information she got, of course. Even if she hadn't promised Nao, there just wasn't much for her to do with it, not that wouldn't have a negative outcome.

But even if she couldn't do anything with the information, it was interesting. His hometown—technically not his hometown, apparently—sounded like a nice little mountain village. Finding out that the area it was in was called the Highlands made her imagine him in a kilt, though, which… yum.

Makoto set aside that particular mental image for later perusal, and grabbed her laptop from her room to get started on her work.

Mister Olberic gave her a puzzled look when she sat down cross-legged on the couch, balancing her computer on her lap and opening it up. He took a break from his workout to drink some water and sit with her, asking the occasional question about her work.

Makoto was more than happy to explain, although she very quickly realized that most of her explanations were only leaving him more baffled. She could even point out the exact moment he went 'this is beyond my comprehension, so I will accept it without question or understanding'.

It was completely the opposite of talking with Professor Albright. Even when her answers had satisfied him, the professor had found more questions to ask based on the answers she'd given. He'd been fun and mentally stimulating to talk with, but there was something much more relaxing about hanging out with mister Olberic. She could see why Nao was willing to bend a bit more where he was concerned, despite her brother being pretty stiff-necked otherwise.

After a little while, though, mister Olberic went back to his workout. He'd put the phone aside to charge properly when he started, since he wouldn't need it and its battery was running pretty low, but Makoto had had to help him plug it in, because he wasn't really sure what he was doing.

Makoto's own phone rang around the time he started doing cool-down stretches. It was the manager of the Sky Egg, needing some clarification about the number of guests who'd be present at the venue for CC's event. The conversation didn't take too long, but Makoto went through her emails again to double-check the confirmations and make sure no one else had canceled since she last checked. There was a politely-worded email from All Might's agency reaffirming their decision to decline, based on the Number One Hero's unpredictable and fully-booked schedule, and a clarification from Best Jeanist's agency about their willingness to help supply any temp staff with matching uniforms—Makoto discussed that with the Sky Egg's manager, who regretfully decided that denim uniforms would not be on-brand for their location, despite him personally being a huge fan of the Fiber Hero.

Once she'd sent Best Jeanist's agency an appropriately regretful refusal of the offer, she and the Sky Egg's manager ended their call.

Mister Olberic was frowning at her.

Not an upset frown, just a thoughtful one, as if something was bothering him a little and he couldn't figure out what.

"Mister Olberic? Can I do something for you?"

His frown deepened slightly, and he moved over to retrieve his phone and earbuds, slowly and awkwardly setting them up again. "Did you not wear spectacles when first you woke?" he asked once he was ready. "I had thought such things were not so easily set aside, especially for one who must read for their duties."

Oh! "That's right," Makoto agreed. "I'm kind of near-sighted, so I need glasses or contacts to function."

His puzzled frown didn't lessen. "What are…" A pause, as he clearly struggled with the word for 'contacts', which apparently didn't translate at all, unsurprisingly.

"Don't bother!" Makoto laughed, setting her laptop aside and uncrossing her legs. "I can just show you—though it might freak you out a little." Carefully, she tilted her head back and pinched the contact lens out of her right eye. When she looked back at mister Olberic, blinking rapidly to counter the weirdness that was having only one lens in, she saw a look of undisguised—if mild—horror on his face.

Makoto bit back a wincing laugh, and waved him closer with her free hand. "Here, see?" she said, balancing the lens on her fingertip and holding it out for him to see. "This is a contact lens," she explained as he hesitantly leaned closer. "It's not glass—it's a softer material that won't hurt my eye when I wear it. I do like my glasses, but sometimes I don't like the way they look with a particular outfit, or I have to do something where they might get in the way. That's when I wear these. They correct my vision just like glasses would, though they take a bit more maintenance and are a little harder to put on in the mornings."

"I would think so," mister Olberic agreed, nodding slow understanding. A faint smile suddenly quirked his mouth. "No doubt Cyrus would ask you more, but I fear such queries are beyond me."

Makoto laughed, and stood to go properly wash and reinsert her contact lens. He either hadn't noticed that it also changed her eye color, or hadn't particularly cared. Oh, well!

When she emerged from the bathroom again, mister Olberic had retrieved a shinai from the corner where they'd tucked all of his things, and was inspecting it carefully. As she watched, he turned it over carefully in his hands, and then gave a few short, testing swings, making the air hum with the shinai's passage.

Makoto smiled, appreciating the sight. "Everything good?"

He tipped his head towards her in acknowledgement. "Perhaps not," he demurred. "This practice blade Master Kamiya lent to me is fine enough for practice, though unsuited to my own experiences. But I fear that even with the adjustments we have made, there is not room enough for proper training with a blade within these walls."

Hm, well, that was a point. Their ceilings were higher than the average—the apartment complex had several Quirk-related accommodations—but they were still low enough that trying to extend his sword overhead would clip the ceiling or a light fixture. And even with the couch shoved back to the wall, there really wasn't enough horizontal space for swordplay either.

And from the little bit Nao had said, mister Olberic used sword practice as a way to keep himself mentally and emotionally stable here.

Hm…

"Would you like to go outside?" she suggested. "It's probably a little damp and chilly out from the rain yesterday, but the apartment complex has a small courtyard that might have enough space for you." Mostly the older folks in the bottom-floor apartments used it for calisthenics and socializing, and Makoto had only been down there a few times, but maybe it would work.

Besides, Nao had said that they couldn't leave, but they wouldn't be leaving if they were in the complex's courtyard, right? Right!

Mister Olberic's faint smile only reaffirmed her decision. "If it would not trouble you, I would appreciate the opportunity."

"Great!" Makoto beamed, closing her laptop and tucking it under one arm. It only had a couple hours of battery life, but that should be plenty.

It was nearly nine o'clock at night before Naomasa pulled into the apartment complex's parking lot. It had been a productive day, though it didn't exactly feel like it, and the Chief had pointed out to him that he needed to go home and rest up a bit, which had reminded him of his promise to Makoto, to try to be home earlier.

Well, it wasn't exactly early—he'd ended up eating takeout at the department—but it was definitely earlier than the night before, so Naomasa didn't feel too guilty about it.

Makoto had kept him updated throughout the day with her and Olberic's statuses and activities, which he'd appreciated, especially when the Chief, Kikuchi, and a few other members of the force asked after his well-being. Naomasa had passed on the updates as best he could without revealing too much to the officers not in on the story, and given a more thorough recounting to Kikuchi and the Chief.

According to Makoto, they were doing very well. She'd taken a little advantage of having Olberic around to help her move and clean under the furniture—she claimed it was at least partly his idea when Naomasa scolded her for making a guest work—and then they'd gone out to the apartment courtyard to give him some time outdoors to train in the fresh air.

Apparently—and the Chief's ears had quivered with amusement at this—the older ladies in the complex had been very appreciative of Olberic's presence, and taken much more shameless advantage of him to help them with various chores that they couldn't quite handle on their own. With Makoto as interpreter, of course.

Considering Naomasa had occasionally gotten roped into helping with trash or groceries himself, even after twelve-hour work shifts, he wasn't exactly surprised, though he was definitely relieved that Makoto was handling the actual interpersonal relations on that one. She was much better at deflecting suspicion than he was. Which, while often annoying or worrying, was a valuable skill under these circumstances.

Though apparently there'd been at least one conversation about whether or not it was alright for a 'young lady to be left home alone with a foreign man', which, honestly, hadn't even occurred to Naomasa as a possible problem. It was Makoto, after all. If she could handle Captain Celebrity at his wild-stallion smarmiest, she could handle just about anyone.

Not to mention that Olberic was the last person Naomasa would worry about concerning his sister's well-being.

Apparently, though, Makoto had handled the arguments by laughing them off and calling Olberic one of Naomasa's friends, which… wasn't strictly accurate, but wasn't exactly a lie, either. He liked Olberic, despite the headache the whole situation gave him.

As far as Naomasa's own work was concerned, well… he kept Makoto updated on the little bit of progress they'd made in finding Olberic's friends. Which wasn't much. He couldn't exactly put out an APB or BOLO on them, after all, and while they now knew that Professor Albright was somewhere in the general vicinity of Makoto's university, that was still a pretty large area. Even with an actual picture available, the few people he could reasonably ask or assign to search the area for him didn't find anything concrete. The librarian on duty recognized the picture, and backed up Makoto's story, and said he'd been back the next day for a few hours in the early afternoon, but that was all. They hadn't spoken, and he hadn't come back today at all.

The few other inquiries Naomasa had made to other sections of the department had yielded little fruit. There hadn't been any reports of a good Samaritan helping out sick or injured people, and no one had called in reports of anyone matching either Alfyn or Therion's descriptions.

Kikuchi had brought him one set of reports, however, that had shown some potential.

Apparently, a small shrine to Inari in Naruhata had gone to collect its offerings on Monday evening and found very little cash in the box, but instead a small pile of wallets, complete with IDs, membership and credit cards, etcetera. Some of the wallets matched those reported missing, including Kayama Nemuri's, though a few didn't have reports attached. The wallets' owners had all been contacted and had their property returned already, but Naomasa had managed to get ahold of Kayama and question her about the circumstances of the theft.

Because all of those wallets turning up in one place made it obviously theft, and Naomasa had a suspicion—more like a faint hope—that it might have been Olberic's thief friend, if only because he couldn't imagine anyone else having the gumption to pickpocket a Pro Hero. Someone who was ignorant of Kayama's primary job, though, might risk doing that. And considering Olberic's respect for his skills, he might actually be capable of it, too.

Kayama did recall meeting someone who matched Therion's description, but not until two days after her wallet went missing, after it had already been returned. Naomasa wasn't sure it was actually him, though, because according to Kayama, he'd gotten tangled up in dealing with the Sturm and Drang brothers and tripped over himself twice escaping their grabby hands and her soporific mist.

Still, it gave him another possible lead to follow up on. He'd requested a copy of the report on the Sturm and Drang brothers' arrest—they were currently jailed at a different holding facility awaiting trial—and if it didn't reveal anything concrete, he planned to visit them if he had a chance tomorrow, to try to learn more.

He wasn't expecting much, though. Those three were degenerates and a plague on society, and not especially bright, besides.

Still, any progress was better than none, and Makoto had reported that Olberic was being very patient and accepting of the minimal progress, which wasn't exactly a surprise, since he was a very patient person in general, but it was a relief. He'd also expressed gratitude that Naomasa had asked the Chief for an update on getting his sword back, even though the answer had been 'not yet'. If nothing else, he'd get it back when they found his friends and sent them all home.

Knocking softly, just in case they were already asleep, Naomasa unlocked the front door and slipped inside the apartment, bending down to untie his shoes. "I'm home."

"Welcome home, bro!" Makoto called out from the kitchen. "Nice to actually see you!"

Naomasa rolled his eyes, but smiled faintly as he locked the door behind him. "I told you I'd be home earlier tonight," he called back.

"And you don't lie," Makoto agreed, moving to where they could see each other. "But that doesn't mean something couldn't have come up with a case at the last second."

Naomasa frowned at her, getting his other shoe off. "I would have at least texted you if that happened," he pointed out. She'd doffed her blazer and slacks already in favor of pajama bottoms and a tank top, but it looked like she still had a bra on in deference to Olberic's presence.

"True, true!" Makoto laughed. "Anyway, bro, have you had dinner yet?"

"Takeout at the department." There was a Chinese place not far from the department, and Tamakawa had been willing to pick them up something for dinner.

"Ha! We had takeout, too." She linked her arm through his, cheerfully walking with him to the kitchen, where Olberic was sitting and drinking a cup of… Naomasa thought it was barley tea. "Well, technically delivery, but you know that little tonkatsu place a few blocks down the street? They have this really neat millefeuille-style tonkatsu on offer right now."

"I'll take your word for it." Makoto was much more aware of all the various business in their area, due to her work and social media presence. "Sir Olberic, how was your day?"

"It passed comfortably enough," he allowed solemnly. "Makoto has been very accommodating, and your neighbors are pleasant folk."

"Missus Ono made us honeyed lemon slices," Makoto explained, eyes dancing with humor behind her glasses—apparently she'd already removed her contacts and makeup for the night, too. "And someone really likes them."

"They are unlike any sweets I have had before," Olberic agreed. "I have heard of apples or plums being preserved in honey, and even dates, in the Sunlands. But never the sharp fruits such as lemons."

Oh. Huh. Naomasa hadn't considered that. Honeyed lemon slices were just… a thing people gave to athletes here. "I'm glad you liked them. And I see Makoto got you some pajamas to sleep in, too." He'd changed out of the denim ensemble from earlier, and into a pair of blue-and-white checked drawstring flannel pajama bottoms, paired with a white short-sleeved t-shirt.

To Naomasa's surprise, Olberic actually smiled at that, shifting to sit a little straighter in his chair. "They are very comfortable," he agreed, seeming almost inordinately pleased. "Were they not sleepwear, and ill-suited to an active life, I would think all men would prefer them to any other form of trousers."

Naomasa had to laugh at that. "I know exactly what you mean." And if Makoto seemed maybe a little too pleased with her purchase and Olberic's enjoyment of it, well, he was going to pretend he didn't notice. "Mister Kikuchi wanted to let you know that he appreciates your regard, and that if you do come by the department tomorrow, he looks forward to talking with you again."

"I look forward to it as well," Olberic agreed. "You had said that Master Kamiya will also return tomorrow, to train the men stationed there, and I would like to see her again, that I might thank her in person for the consideration she showed me before."

…it couldn't hurt to let him visit the department again, could it? Not if he was going to be occupied with other people. Especially since Naomasa couldn't expect Makoto to just stay at home with him indefinitely. "As long as you're willing to endure the drive, I think that should be fine."

A wry, resigned expression. "I have endured many things for the sake of seeing friends again. I can endure this one also."

Naomasa had to smile at that.

Not long after the Truthseeker's return, Makoto went to bed, wishing them a good evening. Once she was gone, Olberic stood to rinse his mug of barley tea, and set it aside to dry. "You have a lovely sister, Truthseeker," he said appreciatively, folding his arms over his chest.

Rather than being pleased, however, the Truthseeker's face contorted itself into an almost comical expression of mingled shock and poorly-concealed unease.

Why would…? Ah. "My apologies; I misspoke," Olberic said solemnly. "Your sister is a lovely woman, but I have no interest in her as such."

"Oh thank goodness." The Truthseeker buried his face in his hands, utterly relieved, before raising his head again with an awkward cough. "I mean…"

Olberic chuckled. "I know what you mean, Truthseeker, and I am not offended. She is your sister, and you wish her only the best." And a foreign man who would surely leave this land as soon as he was able was not the best, no matter what type of man he might be. Olberic doubted that the Truthseeker would interfere with his sister's choices in life, but that didn't mean he had no opinions on them.

Besides, according to what the Truthseeker had told him, his sister was barely of marriageable age. A grown woman, yes, and certainly capable of making her own decisions on such matters, but far too young for a man beginning to approach his middle years.

A thought occurred to Olberic, and he leaned one hip against the kitchen's counter. "Have you a woman in your life, Truthseeker?" he asked curiously. "Other than your sister, of course." The Truthseeker was between Therion and Cyrus in age, by his guess, and not unhandsome. There was no reason he could not have a young woman he was courting.

The Truthseeker flushed a little, brows coming together in irritation or embarrassment. "No. I don't have the time for that kind of thing, work being what it is."

Ah. "I understand. It is oft the way of dedicated men, that matters of the heart be left at the wayside." He himself did not give such things much consideration, unless others brought the topic to his attention.

And it seemed that his reply had put the Truthseeker at ease, for his brows unknitted and he gave a sideways smile. "Isn't that the truth," he sighed, and then rubbed the back of his neck tiredly. "Well, we should probably be going to bed soon. Do you need my help setting up the pullout?"

Olberic was briefly confused, before recalling that collapsible bed stored within the settee was called such. "I would appreciate it," he said solemnly, pushing away from the counter. He was not confident in his ability to handle such a thing himself. Not yet.

Once the bed had been properly set up and his phone set to regain its energy for the next day, Olberic bade the Truthseeker a good night.

A/N: Makoto technically works for Captain Celebrity as his Personal Assistant, doing all of his scheduling and public relations stuff. She's very, very good at management and production-type things.