Warnings: None

Speak

Chapter 08:

"Meetings"

I spotted Momo as soon as I walked into the café. She sat near the back by the kitchen entrance, idly stirring a mug of something with a spoon. Her hair swung long, shiny, and thick over her shoulder, a rich curtain of inky black that matched her liquid eyes.

She was not alone.

I suppressed a frown as I crossed the restaurant. When Momo requested via email we meet to chat, she did not mention the presence of a third party. The stranger sat at Momo's side and chattered with animated enthusiasm. She wore high pigtails, strands streaked with shades of pink. Momo wore a simple sweater and jeans, but her friend dressed like…what was the term? A goth Lolita? Yes, that was it. Lace, satin, petticoats, and a small frilled bonnet atop her head gave the stranger the look of a china doll.

They saw me coming just before I reached them. Momo smiled on reflex, but I detected tightness at the corners of her eyes. Her scent washed over me when I drew close: plumeria blossom, clean soap, and nerves. The scent of bitter coffee rose from her mug. Her friend smelled of powdery makeup and earnest excitement, cup full of sweet cocoa.

Why had Momo invited this woman along? And had she truly presumed I would be willing to allow a third party listen to our conversation?

"Hi!" said the woman at Momo's side. She stood and bowed, hair nearly brushing the plate of cookies on the table. "I'm Yuuki!"

"It's nice to meet you," I said. I kept my tone polite, though internally I stood on edge. "My name is Shuichi."

"Oh, I know who you are." Yuuki's smile was warm, genuine, and eager. "Momo tells me everything!"

I swallowed, unsure of what 'everything' entailed. How many of my secrets had Momo told her?

Before I could unpack Yuuki's meaning, or lose control of my mounting indignation, Momo stood. She afforded me a tight bow before gesturing at the chair opposite her. I sat at her behest and would have asked a question had a waiter not approached for my drink order. When the waiter left, I looked to Momo again.

She was staring at me. I couldn't read her hooded gaze or firm lips. When she met my eyes, she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

"It's good to see you," I blurted.

I regretted the words immediately. I'd spoken to fill the void of aching silence. Momo did not seem impressed. She tucked her chin toward her chest and took a sip of coffee.

"I was worried you were angry," I continued—and then I felt another pair of eyes on me. That girl, Yuuki, stared at me with a worried expression. My ire intensified, though I kept it under strict control when I said, "I apologize, but why exactly are you here, miss?"

Yuuki opened her mouth, but when Momo lifted her hands and signed something, Yuuki paused. Then she said, "Don't mind Yuuki."

For a moment I thought she had referred to herself in third person. Then I realized she was acting as Momo's voice—not relying on "Momo says this, Momo feels that" to convey meaning, but acting as her literal voice by narrating words exactly as Momo spoke them.

"I thought it best we meet in person, but clearly that poses certain…issues," Yuuki said as Momo signed. She kept her eyes on Momo's hands as they moved in tight, controlled motions. I kept my eyes on Yuuki, drawn to looking at her because she was the one speaking. "Yuuki is here to interpret for me. She'll act as my voice while we talk."

Yuuki paused. She looked my way. When our eyes met, she frowned. "Don't look at me."

My brow knit. Why did Momo not want me at looking at her?

Realization dawned on Yuuki's face. She shook her head. "Oh, sorry, that was me, not me-for-Momo." She pointed at her friend. "Look at Momo when she signs, not at me when I speak for her. She's the one talking, not me." At that she winked. "Pretend I'm not here."

"Easier said than done."

"Sorry." A light blush colored Yuuki's pale cheeks; Momo looked down, cheeks flushing as well. "I'll try not to switch between Momo and myself. Until further notice, all words out of my mouth are Momo's."

Yuuki looked to Momo for approval. Momo smiled. Yuuki pantomimed locking her lips with a key and hiding the key under the decorative fern sitting on the windowsill near our table. Then Yuuki shifted so she sat sideways in her chair, facing Momo with her entire body.

When Momo began to sign again, I did as Yuuki asked. I held my gaze on Momo and tried to pretend Yuuki wasn't there. I certainly wished for her absence.

"Communicating with me takes some adjustments," said Momo through Yuuki. Her eyes were still tight, wary, apprehensive. "I appreciate your patience."

"Of course." I couldn't help but spare Yuuki a glance. "However, I still have some reservations about this method. Some of the topics I wish to speak with you about I deem sensitive."

Momo didn't seem surprised. She signed something to Yuuki and then took a pair of earbuds and a CD player from her purse. These she handed to Yuuki. Yuuki put in the buds and pressed play. Soon I detected the tinny sound of upbeat rock music blaring in her ears.

"Is that better?" Yuuki said for Momo. Momo, meanwhile, signed with firm conviction, boldly meeting my eyes as though daring me to challenge her. "She doesn't need her ears to understand me. Like this, Yuuki won't hear anything you say. She'll only see what I sign. She'll only see my half of the conversation."

"Yes, this is better," I said. "Thank you."

Though I spoke calmly, in truth, I was surprised the solution to my worries was so simple. It occurred to me that Momo must have done this before, and many times. The realization was both impressive and sobering. To live as she did must provide myriad complications—and at that thought, the resentment in me collapsed. I had no right to be angry with Momo for inviting Yuuki. Yuuki was only here to help. Without her, a face to face meeting like this might well be impossible.

What did that mean for my future with Momo?

"Anyway," Yuuki said for Momo, "this felt like something we needed to do in person. I might rely on email for a lot of communication, but when I tried writing back to you, words just failed me." Momo smirked. "I'm better at talking than writing, ironically. No idea if you've ever had the same experience."

My lips quirked. Momo was surprisingly talkative. "I've never had an experience quite like this one, I'm afraid."

"And I've never experienced a coincidence quite like ours before," Momo retorted. Yuuki did a remarkable job of injecting emotion into her interpretation of Momo's signs. The irritated tone in her voice corresponded perfectly with Momo's jerky signing and knit brow. "I know I asked before, and you said it was really coincidence—but are you sure?"

I did not want to lie to Momo. I chose my words carefully.

"I was unaware of your existence, or of the existence of any cousins of mine, on the night we met," I told her. "Meeting you was completely unplanned on my part. I was utterly surprised when you appeared on my mother's doorstep, and I assure you I did not manipulate any part of our meeting in any way, shape, or form."

Momo's eyes stayed locked on my face. I maintained a pleasant, neutral expression, one I had perfected during my time as Shuichi. While I spoke only the truth, I omitted much. The fact that I had met her while on a mission for Koenma, who had doubtless researched the lives of all who worked for him, made me suspicious of certain aspects of our meeting, but there was no need to inform her of that. I did not enjoy deceiving Momo, but there was no reason to worry her needlessly.

I would do all the worrying. And if I found out Koenma was manipulating me, let alone Momo, there would be hell to pay.

She did not need to know about that, either.

Eventually Momo looked at her coffee. She took a sip, then combed her hands over her hair. The tightness around her eyes slackened. When she smiled, I saw the cheerful woman I had met on that sidewalk weeks before.

In response, something inside me slackened, too—a tension I hadn't known I held, relaxing at long last.

"OK. I believe you," she signed. The tension inside me slackened further still. "Weird things happen. And I've lived a pretty normal life, all things considered, so I guess it was time for something strange to happen."

In my long life, this was merely the next in a long line of oddities. Another thing she didn't need to know.

"So, with that out of the way, I have some questions," Momo said.

"I will do my best to answer."

"What should I call you? I know your family knows you as Shuuichi, but you introduced yourself to me as Kurama—"

"Stop."

The word came out more sharply than I intended. I did not want Yuuki to know my name, though it seemed too late to prevent as such. Momo, however, did not look at all phased by my tone. She waved a dismissive hand before signing again.

"Yuuki knows," she said. "About Kurama. All my friends know. My mom, too. They all know about your two names."

It took more willpower than I would like to admit to keep my voice steady—because this had the potential to be disastrous. The knowledge of my name could endanger anyone who knew it. For Momo to have given that knowledge to multiple humans—

But why had she told them?

What game was she playing?

Calling on my experience as a warrior and strategist, I willed myself into a state of calm, forcing my spiritual energy into submission before it could run amok. And old trick, but effective. My blood ran cool as my senses sharpened. Colors and shapes swam into perfect clarity. Sounds, even the subtle pulse of Momo's blood, echoed in my ears. Her scent curled around me in a honeyed cloud as I asked, "Why did you tell them?"

She frowned. "Why wouldn't I tell them?"

"That name. Kurama. I'm trying to leave it behind."

Another dismissive wave. "So leave it. I'm not going to pry into your secrets. We're all allowed to have them. I won't hold yours against you."

Before I could press further, the waiter reappeared with my order. Perhaps this was an advantageous distraction. It afforded me a moment to think. I settled back in my seat, hand loose around my mug of tea. Its scent chased away other distracting stimuli, leaving me more focused than before. Momo looked earnest enough. She waited for me to speak with hands in her lap, lips pressed into a resolved line.

Would she truly let my secrets stay that way?

I suppose I took too long to answer. She reached out and gently curled her fingers around mine. They felt cool and dry, in contrast with my mug of tea. I curled my fingers around hers on reflex; at that her smile widened, pleased.

My energy rippled. Her scent wafted through the aroma of the tea, filling my senses with plumeria.

"I mean it," she signed when she pulled her hand away. "If you don't want me to call you Kurama, I won't."

My energy unspooled. Her scent faded, my senses returning to their relaxed, human state.

"Thank you," I said. I appreciated her respect in this matter; her discretion reflected highly on her character. "Still. Why did you tell your friends my names?"

Momo's brow furrowed. "Yuuki is my best friend."

I waited for her to elaborate. She did not.

"I apologize, but I do not follow," I said. "What does that have to do with my names?"

Confusion and disbelief waged war in her eyes. She stared at me like she wondered if I was serious. That, in turn, confused me. What about my question was so odd, to leave her speechless?

Eventually, her confusion cleared. Skepticism took its place as her hands gave shape to her thoughts.

"Could you—could you realistically expect me to not tell anyone about this crazy coincidence?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I needed to tell someone," she said. "About this. About you."

"Why?"

At that she drew in a startled breath. I waited, expression firm, until she spoke again.

"Was I supposed to just act like meeting you wasn't this bizarre thing?" she told me. "Yuuki's been my sounding board through all this. She's my biggest support. I had to tell her what happened. Otherwise, I wouldn't have gotten through this."

I closed my eyes.

What a fool I could be.

This was the human element: the element I most often neglected to consider when traversing human social interactions. Momo had told her friends because she needed their comfort and support—not for reasons concerning some calculated stratagem.

She was not some demonic mastermind. She was a human woman. How had I forgotten?

"In fact, Yuuki was the one who suggested I ask you to meet me here today," Momo continued. "Without her, today wouldn't even be happening."

"I see," I said. I opened my eyes, smiling an apology. "Forgive me. I hadn't considered the possibility you'd tell your friends my names simply to get their opinions on the subject."

"You didn't consider—?"

Yuuki fell quiet as Momo stopped signing. Momo considered me as though attempting to recognize a long-forgotten acquaintance in a crowd—like she had forgotten what I looked like, and wanted very badly to remember. The look did not fade when she lifted her hands and signed.

"Don't you have someone you go to when you're stressed, and when you need to talk things over?" she asked.

I began to assure her that of course I did—but I could not answer in good faith. My list of confidantes in this world was insignificant. I had made no lasting associates in school. My contacts in Demon World were political, at best. Kuwabara and I were not close. Hiei had no interest in discussing one's thoughts and emotions. Yusuke was the small exception in all this, but even he was not privy to my innermost thoughts. All my life I had been alone. That had never bothered me before. It was merely the way of things, a way of life I learned as a fox, and one I had not cared to unlearn as Shuichi.

Now, however, under the weight of Momo's flabbergasted stare, I wondered if my solitude was unnatural, after all.

"I told my friends about you because I tell them everything," Momo signed. "I told them because I needed their help. Surely you know what that's like—needing to confide in someone?"

I did not. Still, I murmured, "Yes. I suppose that is a natural human impulse."

Momo's expression softened She had no reason to suspect I spoke ironically. Only two humans occupied this table, not three.

"Exactly. But I didn't tell them all that much," she said. "I told them 'Kurama' was a nickname you were trying to outgrow. They know not to call you by it. Plus, I told them all about the guy named Kurama who saved me from those thugs…including his name and what he looked like." She laughed, a breathy, wheezing sound. "What were the odds I'd have a cousin and a savior with that hair and those eyes?"

"I do suppose that would have been an impossible secret to keep," I relented, appreciating this logical, concrete answer. "My looks are rather...memorable."

That earned me a smile. "Yeah, you're not exactly subtle. And Yuuki comes to family dinner sometimes, too. No way we could've kept the lid on that pot." A mischievous glint illuminated her features. "And by the way—my friend Akko's sister had a total crush on you."

My brows lifted. "Did she, now?"

"Mm-hmm. So we definitely couldn't keep it a secret from her. Akko's seen your picture too many times to not know your face. But since she's always known you as Shuichi, switching to that name felt normal to her." Her hands spread, a saintly gesture that did not match her sparking eyes. "Which means everything's OK! Right?"

Admittedly, her reasoning put me at ease. I smiled. "Right. Your friend Akko isn't a fan of mine herself, is she?"

"Oh, no." Her grin could only be described as devilish. "But I can't promise anything about her sister."

"In that case, I'll be avoiding Akko's family reunions from here on out."

"That's probably best."

Momo sobered. Her hands trudged through their signs like they swam through mud.

"Speaking of which," she told me, dragging reluctant through the signs, "I'm sorry about the other day. I know all that stuff about my grandfather must have been awkward for you."

Yuuki gasped when she finished interpreting, fingers pressing to her painted lips. Momo ignored her. Clearly Yuuki knew about Momo's family—that Momo's grandfather considered Momo defective, unworthy of the family name.

Though I had never met the man, I felt resentment stir.

"I am sorry, Momo," I said.

"What for?" she said. Her shrug telegraphed tired resignation. "You can't control my grandfather."

"Even so. I regret the way you were made to feel at that dinner due to his behavior."

"Thanks." Another shrug, accompanied this time by an airy sigh. "Of all the families your mother could've married into, I'm sorry it's mine."

"Momo—"

My hand wrapped around hers almost of its own accord. She looked as surprised as I felt. Though tempted to pull my hand away, retreat from her warm fingers as they curled reflexively around mine, I found that I could not. Her dark eyes regarded me with intent, bold and wary—but warm. If she was surprised by my actions, it was not unpleasantly so.

Deep within me, something growled.

I silenced it at once.

"I don't regret becoming a part of your family," I murmured. My thumb drifted across Momo's knuckles. "And I promise you, neither does my mother."

Momo's eyes fluttered shut, lashes staining her cheeks. She lifted one hand, palm flat, toward her mouth. Fingertips just brushed her lips, and then she pulled the hand forward in a short, sharp motion.

"Thank you," Yuuki supplied.

Then Momo pulled her captured fingers from mine, and signed using both hands.

"Though I don't mind hand-holding, it makes it hard for me to talk," she said. A droll smile. "Need both for signing."

"Ah." I should've known.

"Unless you want to sit here and stare into my eyes in silence all night, of course." She winked. "Your eyes are gorgeous, so I wouldn't mind, but…"

Bold eyes, warm smile, sweet words. I'd been approached by women before, in both this and my past life, but Momo's innocence was unfamiliar. She didn't desire my strength, the way a demon might. And she didn't desire to date me for status, as the humans at my school so often did.

No one had looked at me like this since…Maya, actually. But even she had had ulterior motive, envying my link to the supernatural.

As far as I knew, Momo had no motive. She simply liked me.

Much the same way I was growing to simply like her.

How novel.

I resisted the urge to touch her hand. "Momo, are you flirting with me?"

"Maybe." The corresponding sign was languid, slow, as liquid as her onyx eyes. "I mean, now that we've got the whole 'you have dirty secrets and I'm OK with it' talk out of the way, is a date still on the table?"

"Yes," I said. I surprised even myself when I did not hesitate. "I'd like that."

Her smile widened. Momo leaned forward, her scent fragrant and enveloping, as she reached for me.

Just as I felt the warmth of her hand fan across my skin, and just before her fingertips brushed my wrist, the watch upon that wrist—the energy detection watch given to me by Koenma—began to scream.

NOTES

Sorry this update took so long. Meant to go on longer, but this felt like a good stopping point so I cut it short.

A lot has happened in my life lately. It's been hard to come back when expectations are high. I worry I can't meet those expectations. The stress keeps me away from this story. But I'll get over it.

So many thanks to those sticking by this story after so long. Hopefully I'll update quicker next time. Love you: j.d.y, Xanaldy, Sanguinary Tide, OdinsReaper, Arai2302, AkaMizu-chan, Kaiya's Watergarden, Heve-chan, MLeggyLeaf, Lariee, ILoveLilies247, Me, Guest, jcampbellohten, halem847, StrawberryHuggles, BarbyChan4ever, Leela, and RosyPastry.