A2, Ch. 1: The New Normal, Pt. I

4/28

Lines.

A bunch of lines on the large LCD screen.

Funny thing, how a line graph can make a large crowd of people trace it out with their eyes.

Make their palms sweaty at the sight of it.

Make their knees weak.

Be consumed by long drops. And not just the ones on the graphs.

Akira stared up at the screen with them, hearing the same things Leblanc's TV told him while scarfing down the umpteenth bowl of LeBlanc curry:

Financial Armageddon.

He shrugged. Stock prices? A bit too early to be worrying about that, anyway.

"So dramatic, these news announcements," Morgana commented, curled tightly in Akira's bag. "You'd think the world's going to end when you hear this stuff."

"Good morning, Ren."

Her voice was better than any dramatic news announcement. "Morning, Prez."

She cleared her throat, poking her head above the detective manga she was reading with her steady, auburn eyes. "I should remind you that your formal introduction to the Council is today."

"Fine. Miss President, then."

The two started to walk down, passing a homeless man who then rushed up to them, close enough to see the plaid beads of his scarf. He raised a sign of an orange sun in front of them. "THE END TIMES ARE COMING! BUTTRESS YOURSELF WITH THE GRACE OF THE SUN GOD!"

Akira groaned; the chu-hai off this man's breath burned his nostrils. "Excuse me, we need to get going to class." He lightly shoved the man, rough coat and all, out of the way, with a startled Makoto in tow by a loose arm.

She lingered on the feeling of his hand being around her wrists. "You know, I was about to ignore him myself. You didn't have to be so curt."

A few steps later, he let go of Makoto's hand. "Sorry; a bit impatient today." The hand that hovered near his bag had that tremor again. He even had a burst blood vessel in the corner of his right eye. One from staring restlessly over the workbench, night after night since the small taste of vindication several days before.

"Are you anxious, Ren?"

He blew a hot jet of air, goosebumps forming under the arms of his jacket. More half-truths, then. "Regardless of the strings attached, student administration and being under the public eye aren't really my thing. No offense."

She sighed in return. "I suppose I'm like that too. I did prefer the silence of a library cubby and the smell of bleached pages over a room full of people."

Akira smirked. "You're smiling."

She reflexively put a hand over her mouth. Damnit...looking like an idiot again. "Well, anyways, given how adaptable you seem to be, despite all of the drama at school, I don't think you'll have too much of a hassle."

"Yeah...drama." Biggest understatement ever.

The subway to Aoyama pulled up. Then, the rush to get inside began.

The two hovered next to each other, trying to find a small space for both of them to stand. Luckily, they found a place to sit, although they ended up squished together shoulder-to-shoulder.

For Akira, being squished up next to her wasn't such a bad prospect at all. An interesting smell drifted up Akira's nose. Like...sea spray? Makoto, from the crown of her head to the tip of the zipper on the neck of her shirt, was layered with this stuff. Nice. Though..."I didn't know you fancied manga."

"A book is a book. Any opportunity to imbibe in one is sacred."

"...Any book?"

She glared. "I suggest you stop with such foolishness." In the corner of her mouth, she started to show teeth.

And, with those evil set of eyes in her, he stopped there. Prez is all business today. She REALLY is taking her new "job" seriously. It's not helping me. "Any word on Kobayakawa?"

"None. Unfortunately."

The thought of Kobayabawa's being unaccounted for boiled his blood. He interlocked his fingers together, attempting to squeeze out some catharsis. "You said your sister was a cop. Maybe she'd have some news on that."

She smiled while casting her eyes away. After what you've possibly done? Probably not the best. Plus..."The Tokyo police is a large organization. I can't really bother my sister about this stuff. I mean, she was tasked to handle more crimes of a...sexual nature, but even then, she would think it's not worth investigating. A witness has already come forward, after all; Shujin wouldn't be on her radar."

"...She wouldn't care still, even if it's a school her sister goes to?"

"Even if." ...Maybe.

"That's...dedication?"

Makoto knew that it was many tiers past dedication. She frowned, her sighs drifting into airy growls of frustration. Like she was tired of saying "Even if."

...That funk on her face...Renren, you never cease to screw with her. "I'm sorry. On another note...I like the perfume, you know. It smells nice on you."

Morgana grunted in disgust while in the bag.

She lit up for a moment, then slinked back into her pages, stealing a small glance back at her frizzy-haired ward. ...If only he knew I stole a spray from Sis's own bottle, early in the morning. Sometimes, he makes me get the weirdest ideas...

The train doors closed, and the rail began to vibrate and clatter forward.

A teen with brown hair observed from a distance as the train doors closed.

Leaning on a subway pillar, he smirked. "Nijima-san, Nijima-san...you seem...chummy with him."

He then started to walk to his intended line, metal briefcase in hand. "Enough distractions. Another consultation, another meeting with Sae." And maybe...more sushi?

The spittle began to form in the back of his mouth. "Ahh, lookie me. I'm quite the little pig. Anyway, I have a new job waiting for me."

A few stops, and a 15-minute walk later, he found himself in front of a square concrete building facing a verdant forest shielding imperial castles in the distance. "Tokyo Metropolitan HQ," he muttered, standing in front of it and feeling dwarfed.

Entering the building, the receptionist bowed politely, a deeper bow that betrayed his age. "Goro-san. The director is waiting."

He gave a saccharine smile that, much to her shame, made her swoon deep down.

The elevator ride was quick, leaving only a few seconds to fix the red tie under his beige coat, which displayed his school emblem prominently: "Seven Sisters."

The door began to open, and with that, he snuck in a quick brush of his soft, brown hair. ...Even with all the hair products, a single strand always ruins my view. He sighed. Still...I suppose the cameras would disapprove if I weren't cautious enough. Even if I'm not in front of them.

He stepped out of the elevator and walked down the marble hallway. He peered down at the blurry mirror image on the floor; it was more out of reflex rather than actual concern at this point. He then knocked on a large set of wooden doors.

"Come in," said a voice on the other side.

He opened the door to find Sae standing in front of the SIU director.

"Sae. Long time no see," he greeted, smiling that smile once again. "What do we have now on our plates this time?"

"Goro-san. Sae-san. I'll keep this brief. There have been some...flare-ups in Shinjuku. Increased activity, to say the least."

"How much?" Sae wondered. "You're not one for euphemisms."

"I just don't feel like reciting a long list. All the events are suspected to be related to criminal finances and racketeering, Large transfers in cash, if our boys in surveillance are worth their salaries."

"Which is why you have me, then," the brown-haired boy said with bright eyes.

"You seem enthusiastic," Sae commented. "Show business not paying enough?"

"...Actual detective work is worth its weight in gold," he responded.

Sae cringed. It's like he doesn't know the difference between the real world and the stage..."I'm surprised surveillance is dedicating so much time to the clans. They haven't been that active since...several years back."

"Yes, well..." the director said. "...Suffice it to say, I've received orders as of late to increase the pressure on the families. The yakuza, Taiwanese mafia, all of them. My superiors...well..."

"I get it," the showman detective said, smirking while having a balled hand on his chin. "Your superiors need something to tout...especially if faced with potential scrutiny from a new Prime Minister. Which, given the state of things, is rather likely."

The director grumbled. "...Spoken like a true Detective Prince."

Sae imagined her eyes narrowing. ...Or a stoat. "Organized crime though should lead on this, no?"

He took a deep breath. "Do you want to be on this case or not?"

Goro shrugged his shoulders. "I mean, I'm personally fine with taking all of the glo-"

"That won't be necessary," Sae shouted forcefully. She quickly ebbed back to her neutral voice. "I was commenting that it seemed natural, given that you assigned me sex crimes recently, that you'd try to assign someone from there instead of me. Unless...you suspect something of that nature."

"Correct," the director replied. "The activity is centered around areas where...people of the night hover. Just to cover my bases, I have someone from organized crime on standby. He specializes in homicide as well, if we, unfortunately, find ourselves dealing with a major escalation..." he checked his watch. "Sorry, he should have been-"

The doors behind them suddenly rush open, producing after the whoosh of cold air, the low growls of an old man with something lodged in his trachea. A wizened set of eyes, under the shadow of a fedora, stared at the trio in the room.

He opened his mouth, barely, glaring at the two youngest. "Director. I hope I won't be babysitting."

"No, you won't," Sae replied.

His flip phone buzzed. He opened it to find a message: The smell's pretty intense. It's possible. He looked back upward. "Bye then."

"W-wait," Akechi uttered. "Aren't you going to introduce yourself?"

"Sae can do that," she grunted. "After all...we're practically family."

She narrowed her smoky eyelids. You haven't earned that right. No amount of time can change that.

"Umm...Sae-san, what does he mean-"

"Shut up, Akechi," she responded, the corner of her mouth brandished. "Director, the answer is yes. Send the details to my desk. Excuse me." She bowed and then walked briskly out of the room.

"Excuse me as well," Akechi said, bowing to the director as well. "We'll talk about consultation fees later."

Akechi quickly walked to join Sae. "Nijima-san, who was that man?"

She stopped and snapped her neck to stare down Akechi. "My dad's 'partner.'"

"But, you mentioned before your dad didn't do partners."

"He didn't. But this man...he practically made the Lieutenant who he is. He's the reason why Nijimas...and Shinjuku don't mix."

Makoto had the desks hastily assembled, like always.

She noticed how most of them stared unnecessarily at their wringing hands instead of her and the new addition to the team. Except for the only other female on the Council.

Akira was surprised as well by this miss: her poofy, orange hair, the poofy pink sweater flashing shamelessly in his face, and the steady, warm glare she directed towards the two, amogst other things. She reckons it's business as usual, by the looks of it. I suppose it's this, or seeing the guys fidgeting in their seats like clowns, so I can't complain. He then sighed heavily. Seriously...I thought with Kamoshida gone, I'd at least get less comical responses from the student body. But this? From some of Student Council members, no less!?

Makoto turned to her left, and saw him grimacing. And, given the tension in the air, she couldn't blame him. Despite this, she started the agenda at hand. "I appreciate the meeting on a short notice. Now, considering we have a new member, I feel like introductions are in order."

And with that, the Council rose from their seats. Akira started first. "Akira Kurusu, your new deputy." He extended a slight bow to the rest of the group.

Next, the monocled, eczema-riddled boy to his left. "Kuro W-wakabayashi. First-year representative and Treasurer. At your s-service."

Akira couldn't help but draw the most tenuous of connections ...Are all the first years stuttery messes? Ugh...that reminds me. I should check up on Mishima later.

Then, the other female; Akira then saw the band-aids around her fingers. "Haru Okumura. Secretary; I'm the newest by a year. Hope we can get along!"

That last name, and those fingers...no wonder she seems familiar. "So do I. Though, I am curious...do you handle roses a lot?"

She stared back, eyes widened. "Are you stalking me, sir? You know, I can have you sued."

Akira cocked his head back, responding with a crazed look on his face. I know she's trying to joke...but after Kamoshida..."I mean, it's just the fingers-"

She giggled. "Just kidding! No need to look so serious."

"...She likes to tease here and there," Makoto added.

"I know my fingers are a bit jarring. Yes, I do. The sudden showers this time of the year makes planting roses ideal. Though...they're quite painful when they bloom. Anyway, let's move on."

Next was:

"Watanabe. Isshi Watanabe." He turned his anguished eyes away, arms crossed. "I mostly handle...athletic funding. I hope you won't make too much noise from here on."

Akira grunted. Athletic funding? You did that on purpose, didn't you?

"And I am Makoto Nijima. I don't think introductions are necessary."

Everyone then sat back down, the boys still rigid in the lower back, as if they were ready to go darting off the room at the slightest provocation from the new kid.

"Now," Makoto continued. "Let's begin. Now, Akira-kun here will be with us for rest of the year, as outlined by the faculty. We should outline what his responsibilities should be."

"R-responsibilities?" Kuro uttered.

"Yes, Wakabayashi, responsibilities. Kurusu, despite the troubling rumors about him, has enough trust from Kawakami and me that we can say he will NOT cause trouble for us. More than that, I figured having his rotate between the four of us and having him assist you all your separate duties would be a great usage of his time."

"I figure extra help with my sustainability garden on the rooftop wouldn't hurt," Haru said, hands clasped anticipatorily.

Watanabe continued to sulk in his corner of the table. "Spreading the intimacy around the table, Nijima-san. Very generous."

Haru's eyes widened. "Don't sling imaginary mud, Watanabe."

"No, Okumura-san, I'll indulge him." Her voice becomes noticeably low and icy. "Yes, you're going to have time with him. YOU especially are going to show him your neck of the woods with RESPECT. Otherwise, I'll find some 'creative' tasks for you. Or for anyone who tries to do such a thing."

The room turned silent.

Kuro slinked his head deeper into his chest.

Watanabe turned white.

Haru giggled under the veil of her fingers.

And all Akira could think of as he admired her up close:

I owe her some ramen.

Then, the knock on the door. It was Ushimaru of all people. "Sorry, but turns out we won't have school today. Lucky bastards."

Everyone eyebrows raised up as high as they could.

"...What happened?" Makoto asked. It would have to be worse than Shiho to prompt this...

"None of your business, Nijima-san. Save the write-up on the Kurusu punk for later. Go home. And don't forget to study, all of you! Midterms are in a couple of weeks!" Ushimaru then trudged off...

In the direction of Kobayakawa's office.

Ushimaru spent ten more minutes scanning for stragglers. After a while, he found himself in front of Kobayakawa's door.

"I'm back," Ushimaru said bitterly to the beat cop also by the door. "You want me to pace more, or are we done here?"

"Yeah...that's it."

"Good. I guess then interviewing students about that Kamoshida creep wasn't good enough for you." Ushimaru turned around, but suddenly was struck with the worst pain. "Ahh...my back..."

"Get a heating pad. Walk it off."

The long rim hat-wearing detective from before passed a hunched Ushimaru, carrying facial masks.

"Endo-san," the beat cop greeted, hand to his forehead in a salute. "I've advised the faculty to send the students home. At the very least, the third floor has been fully evacuated."

"Good," he grunted. He turned to Ushimaru, who was now by the stairs. "Teacher? Anyone have a key to this place?"

"The principal kept his own key and maintained it himself."

"How polite," Endo chortled. "These teachers care about the sanctity of the principal's personal space. Go hobble on."

Ushimaru grumbled down the stairs.

"Sir, shouldn't we have waited to confirm before excusing the entire school?" the beat cop wondered.

Endo glared a long while at the baby-skinned cop in front of him. "You a few years removed from the academy?"

"...Yes."

He leaned in closer, close enough that the beat smelled the chew in the back of his mouth. "Then, I'll say that if you've been in the business as long as I have, then you get a feeling for these things."

"Well, sir, what's the feeling?"

He then put on the mask. "You too, rookie."

The beat cop slipped the mask over his face.

"To answer your question, we know that the last place this guy was. Here. Nobody reported seeing him, and the IMSI catchers show that he either left his phone here...or he never left." He took a strained whiff next to the keyhole, gagging a little. "And by that smell...I say he's festering."

"But sir, what about the key?"

The detective then pulled off a stub-nose from his coat. "And rely on those feckless cowards? You think, after seeing the news about this place, they would show some initiative? Let's not waste time."

He then took the gun handle and struck a hole in the door window.

He then looked through the hole. "Damn...you're big."

"What is it, Lieutenant?"

"That, my friend, is why you evacuate people away. The smell is killer." He flipped over his phone, having a tired expression on his face. "Get a coroner to Shujin Academy. We got a bloater here."

Notes: Easing into this one guys! It's been a turbulent week at work, and I admittedly been trying to get back into the groove of writing again.

I'm hoping to get the next part out Friday! (And with that, another round of special guests in this AU.)

Stay tuned...