Spring, 2016

Makoto walked into L'Effervescence as a completely different person than she was at work. Not only for her date but because of the restaurant's reputation. L'Effervescence, a restaurant that combined Japanese and French cuisine, maintained high standards for Tokyo's more comfortable residents. Even with the restaurant's small size, its interior contained an entirely new world for Makoto to explore.

Most of the restaurant was steeped in a sleek shade of black, including carpeted floors. On one side of the restaurant, windows peered into a muted green garden. The other side showed off a staircase to a more private area, likely for the higher-paying customers. Each table in sight was adorned with wine glasses and a single bright flower.

Makoto never dreamed of going to a restaurant so nice unless she'd reached the peak of her career. If Ren wanted to show off, he certainly had—Makoto just hoped he wasn't compensating for some coffee-shop-owner-related insecurity.

Her navy blue dress was more uncomfortable than she remembered, hampering how quickly she usually walked. Makoto purchased the dress years before for a canceled special occasion. Such occasions didn't come around every week, and throwing herself into work headfirst in the days since didn't help. Even dating, the scenario most likely to demand that Makoto use the dress, was avoided. Too much time, too much effort, and too confusing for someone as busy as Makoto.

She tried a few times, though, to some very disappointing results. It wasn't like she said no to every interested man or never put herself out there; all of it just lacked for her. Makoto saw nothing interesting about fawning cops hitting on her at her desk or the countless friends of Chihaya that demanded to be set up. The one thing that held them all together—the boredom they inspired—didn't bode well for dating.

Ren was different for a reason Makoto couldn't pin down. He was her most abnormal romantic experience—drunkenly wandering through unfamiliar streets to be saved by a mysterious coffee shop owner versus the time a man approached her on patrol with flowers—and maybe that was enough for Makoto's impulsive side to proclaim him as the one.

Maybe he was just exciting because he was so new, so different from anything she'd encountered before.

Makoto knew nothing except that she wanted to learn more about him. Even if the date didn't go well, getting a few questions answered would satisfy an unscratchable itch.

"Hi, I'm here for a reservation under Amamiya."

The hostess nodded and looked down at her digital layout of the restaurant. Makoto looked past the hostess's desk to see the various customers of the restaurant. Their displayed extravagance of golden earrings, bracelets, and every piece of jewelry in the city made Makoto, clothed in what she considered fancy, feel underdressed and plain. Maybe the date wasn't such a good idea if Ren expected her to look like their fellow customers.

Makoto continued scanning. Nearly every table featured couples; the ones that didn't instead had groups of men talking. Makoto assumed business because of the restaurant's nature and because she watched too many movies, though she couldn't be sure. However, she did know that each person at L'Effervescence cared for their appearance a great deal. Men swiped their hair back into place, women adjusted crooked earrings, and servers straightened out their name tags in the back corner—Makoto saw it all.

Each individual popped from their table so much that her eyes passed over the one person she looked for. "I'm sorry, there doesn't seem—" the hostess said just as Makoto restarted her scan of the room.

"Oh, I see him. Thank you," she said to the hostess before walking past the desk.

Ren sat at one of the few tables next to the windows. Unlike the other customers, Ren kept his outfit simple and a bit more natural looking. Jeans, a black jacket, and a white shirt were a far cry from the attention-hungry outfits of the rest of the restaurant. The lingering feeling of being underdressed faded as Makoto's only acquaintance at the restaurant matched her properness.

"Evening." She pulled his attention from the window towards her, his eyes wavering on her dress.

Makoto sat down in her black cushioned chair. "You made it," Ren said as his eyes settled on hers. She wanted to look away, look anywhere else, but she couldn't falter in the gaze.

"I figured a date with you would be less…" Makoto waved her hands as she tried to find a word that wouldn't offend Ren or assume his status, whatever it was. "Fine dining."

Ren smirked. "You want to try my coffee?"

"Just a little."

"That's a good plan for the next date." Ren looked to his left, his smile fading as he watched the same people Makoto had earlier. She wanted to follow his eyes but failed, instead focusing on the subtle movement of his own. They darted from person to person, each moment they locked in saying something about the person they found. Had she looked like that with her scanning and analysis at the hostess's desk? "What do you think?" he asked, eyes still on other tables.

"Of?"

"L'Effervescence."

"It's nice. I like the garden view. You come here a lot?"

"No. Actually, it's my first time." Ren propped his head up on his fist, his elbow resting on the table, and covered his mouth. His people-watching continued as he spoke to Makoto. "I'm starting to think coffee might have been better. Not my kind of crowd."

Ren's words swatted a few of the butterflies in Makoto's stomach, making her less worried about the choice of restaurant being an attempt to show off. "That's good to hear. I was worried—"

"That I'm like them?" Ren sat back in his chair and dropped his arm from the table. Now, with his attention on Makoto, his pursed smile returned. Makoto returned the look, spawning a few more butterflies to keep her on edge.

"Well, sort of, but I was more referring to feeling out of place. I've never been to a restaurant this nice."

"That makes two of us. Sorry if I made it awkward." Ren rubbed the back of his head, red coming to his cheeks. "I may have done a quick internet search for the best restaurants for first dates and guess what popped up?"

Makoto didn't question the strangeness of that, instead interpreting it as Ren being the same as her: his dating life barely existed. "Sounds like you don't do a lot of dating."

Ren shrugged, not phased by Makoto's question. He was confident in his reclusiveness. "I don't meet a lot of new people, so it's hard to get anything going. What about you?"

"Oh, erm…" Makoto wanted to question Ren's answer more, so shifting the focus back to her took her by surprise. Someone a few years older than Makoto who was in a position to get a reservation at a fancy restaurant while owning a barely functioning coffee shop that didn't meet many people? Ren Amamiya must have had a story and Makoto needed to hear it. "Here and there. Not much, though. I'm starting to think I might be too committed to my job for anything serious…" She realized that she said the worst possible thing for a first date. "B-but… Um, what'd you mean by not meeting a lot of people?"

"I—"

"Let me change the question." Ren raised an eyebrow at Makoto's forwardness. His eyes darkened with added attention to Makoto. She wondered if he'd done that when they'd first met while it was too dark to notice. "You don't meet a lot of people, Leblanc's rarely open, but you're able to take me here for dinner. Just what is it you do for work, Ren?"

"I'm a financial consultant."

"Isn't that for retired old businessmen?"

"How about retired young men?"

"You're retired?!"

"I inherited money, more than enough for me to live comfortably. I bought Leblanc to give me something to do when I get really bored." Again, Ren looked over at their fellow restaurant-goers. Makoto followed his gaze this time, watching as many of them ate their food. They laughed, yelled, and smiled at each other. Some were serious, some were playing the quiet game of pettiness, and some sat alone while waiting for their dinner dates to arrive. "But I rarely spend any of it. Just enough to sleep at night and eat food the next morning."

Makoto looked back at Ren, a man more and more intriguing with each elaboration. "So… What do you do with all that free time?"

"I read a lot of books and work out a lot." Ren looked toward Makoto again. Makoto worried his inconstant eye contact reflected poorly on her. Maybe he considered her undressed? Maybe he regretted asking her out? Maybe he couldn't think of her as anything more than some drunk wo—"You know about Leblanc, already. I enjoy some basic cooking, but nothing beyond curry."

"Wow." Makoto realized she'd started playing with her hair. She dropped her hand from her head into her lap, laying the other hand over it to imprison it. With her nerves relaxed and her dumb questions quelled, she gave Ren the attention he gave her. "Quite the life you live. I'm jealous."

"Oh, it's not nearly as nice as it seems. Like I said, being retired doesn't exactly help me meet new people."

"What about your consulting work? Don't you meet people through that?"

"Yeah, but you know who I'm doing consulting work for?" Ren waved his hand to his left, indicating the crowd of the restaurant. "I can't stand them. I'm not particularly good at my job either, so they don't want to go beyond a working relationship with me."

Makoto paused, her eyes lingering on Ren. He wasn't disheveled or strung out—he was a well-put-together man who didn't lack for looks. It wasn't like he disregarded his appearance; he worked out. Did he really let himself underperform at his job, if at anything? "You strike me as someone who doesn't allow himself to be bad at something."

"I'm good at everything, except for consulting." Ren chuckled at his joke, getting a similar reaction from Makoto. "It's a soulless job, really. These people, all of them wanting to take advantage of someone, reach out to me on how to do it and I have no clue. It's not like I'm living off money that I made, you know?"

"Are they that bad?" Makoto looked out at the other people eating dinner. They were the same as Ren and Makoto, just more dressed up and with brighter, practiced smiles on their faces. No matter how wide they were, Makoto saw no joy in them. "They're people too, aren't they?"

"Yes, but they're the top part of the upper class. They didn't get there without ripping off a few hundred or a few thousand people, or they were just born into it and have no clue what real life is like."

Ren knew that his description applied to himself, at least from Makoto's point of view. He didn't work an actual job, received a massive inheritance, and wasn't even thirty. What made him different—the mystery? Self-awareness?

"Jeez… I don't know why you keep consulting if it's only those kinds of people you work with. Or, better yet, why not just work with smaller businesses?"

Another shrug from Ren. "I give bad people bad financial advice. It evens the score somewhere down the line, right?" Ren's smile asked if Makoto was done picking his brain yet, hoping that she'd gotten the answer she wanted. He didn't like talking about the people he worked for, yet his answers only generated more questions. "I hope that didn't come off the wrong way."

"No no, I get what you're saying. If you're not very good at financial consultation, might as well stay away from the good people and let them succeed. I'm just surprised at your honesty, that's all. Nobody I work with would admit to being bad at their job."

"Really? It feels like police officers should be the first people to know if they're good or not."

"It's not a matter of knowing. Most of them are just too prideful to say whether they're decent. That's why most of them become police officers; it's the power." Makoto found herself matching Ren in releasing her disgust for her workplace. "They don't see the point in helping one person because there are millions more and they're only on the force for special treatment. It's the ultimate example of having a fragile ego."

"That's messed up."

"I know. It's a large majority of people on the force, too, so what can I do about it?"

"I suspect you have an answer for that."

Makoto laughed. "Less of an answer, more of a maybe-possibly-perhaps. I always thought I could make a real difference as commissioner, rather than helping just one or two people a week."

"Commissioner Niijima..." The way he said it ran up Makoto's spine and down her arms—goosebumps. "Has a nice ring to it. If only it didn't take so long for promotions to kick in, right?"

"Tell me about it. I've spent only a year in the OCCB and—"

"OCCB?"

"Organized Crime Control Bureau." Makoto paused to laugh at her forgetfulness. "You just made me realize that the only people I speak to are police officers who would know that kind of thing. Anyway, that year felt like forever. I can't imagine the next thirty to forty years I'll need before I even get close to commissioner."

"But you're committed to it?"

Makoto sighed. She smiled as she referred back to her original sentiment. "Maybe, possibly, perhaps. It might be a bit too high of a goal, especially when I'm in a good situation right now. Better to focus on the present, right?"

"Not necessarily. How can you continue through the present if you don't hope for a better future? Even if you're hoping for something impossible, it's better than putting your head down on the grindstone and shaving years off your life."

No wonder he was bad at his job; he'd chosen the wrong profession. "That was weirdly inspirational."

"Think I could do public speaking rather than financial consulting?"

"Maybe. What would you talk about?"

"The best date spots in Tokyo. What else?"

"I have to say that," Makoto said in between bites of her food, "this is the best seafood I've ever had."

Ren smiled to respond immediately, but swallowing his food took priority. Once finished, he wiped his face with a napkin. "I know, right? Makes me feel a bit better about choosing this place."

They both ordered seafood dishes at the waiter's recommendation. Neither of them recognized much on the menu and Makoto hesitated to take interest in anything over her usual price point, which meant that most of the menu was avoided. She hoped Ren hadn't noticed, but he asked the server to bring the best on the menu no matter the price.

"Honestly, we could come back sometime. Maybe dress up a little more, too," Makoto said.

"Really?"

"Well, I was thinking about it." Each bite made her forget her and Ren's scathing observations of their peers. "This is the place to become a regular."

"I don't know if I'll be able to get in here ever again."

"What do you mean?"

"The people sitting around us booked their tables a month in advance. I did it a few days ago, and only managed it because I know the manager."

"Through your consulting work?"

Ren rested a hand on the table, raising and dropping his fingers in a cascading line. "Something like that."

"Then… Why wouldn't they let you come back?"

"Let's just say that the hostess gave me a hard time about taking someone else's reservation." Ren looked down at his food. He scooped up another bite and smiled as he ate it. "Worth it." He continued his vagueness, but it made him all the more enrapturing to speak to. Makoto assigned herself the case of Ren Amamiya, determined to understand what made him tick.

Just who was Ren? He had the connections to secure reservations at prestigious restaurants, live off of an inheritance from an unidentified person, didn't allow people to contact him, and drew the ire of an independent doctor. None of it added up for Makoto, and that made him all the more intriguing. She watched each of his movements to see if they connected the dots.

Alas, his way of chewing or his glances around the room failed to clue Makoto into anything. She would have to settle for something much more difficult than visual analysis to learn Ren's secrets: conversation.

"Ren… I'm sure you know how strange you are." Ren didn't respond, only raising an eyebrow. Obviously, he had questions, yet he didn't ask. It was a running theme throughout the dinner. Makoto made an observation about him, then he stayed silent until it forced her to explain herself. So much pressure sat in those silences, all of it created and perceived by Makoto alone. "What I mean is that you're unlike anyone else I've ever met."

This time, however, Makoto got him to speak his question. "Is that a good thing?"

"This is the most interesting date I've ever been on, that's for sure."

Ren laughed. "I'll take it."

"But… There are just so many questions I have."

"Fire away."

"When I went to Takemi-san's clinic the other day to find a way to contact you, I couldn't because, according to Takemi-san, people don't contact you." Makoto sat back in her chair so she could focus on analyzing Ren. Any reaction to her question would be noted and recorded in her memories, vivid as that very moment. "Plus, she made her feelings towards you clear. Why the animosity?"

"When I was in high school, Tae hired me as a test subject, of sorts. She would pay me to test drugs for her." Makoto's mouth opened to protest the strange arrangement, but Ren continued talking. "When I finished school, I began to refuse to help her. Despite that, I've continued going to her if I need any medical help. She may say she dislikes me, but it's not enough to deny me service."

"And…" Makoto gulped as she processed the first answer. "What about contacting you? I'm a police officer and I couldn't even find out how to reach you."

Ren frowned, Makoto wanted her words back. Did she just give an indictment of her skills? Even his look asked her, "What does that say about you as an officer?"

His eyes wandered to the side of her eyes, almost like he was wa—Makoto immediately stopped playing with her hair, her face flushing red because of Ren noticing.

She expected a light-hearted jab, but Ren preferred silence. He smirked and moved on as quickly as he noticed. His strong eyes wandered the room, passing over the people that disgusted him. Finally, they found Makoto again and they softened. "Inheritances are tricky business. You know the curse about people who win the lottery?"

"Somewhat."

"Same thing for inheritances. Everyone comes after you for the money. Friends turn on you now that they can't relate, the guy who bullied you in high school comes along asking for his share, and the family members who disowned you want the sum they're entitled to." Ren took a sip of his wine, pausing to breathe deeply as he swallowed down the drink. "And they all come after you the same way: every morning, they'll wake you up with a phone call."

Makoto wanted more. She wanted the source of the inheritance, the people who came after Ren, how much he lost from the inheritance tax, etc. Unfortunately, Ren's talkativeness faded as his answer concluded. Even the eye contact that kept him friendly couldn't keep his face from souring into bitterness. That same look from his people-watching returned, hovering over his wine glass like he wanted to crush it with his bare hands.

"The simpler answer is that I'm a private person." Just as quickly as Ren's hatred rose to the surface, it vanished. "Sorry that you weren't able to reach me, but Tae told you that I'm pretty proactive about getting back to people, right?"

Makoto was delighted to give Ren some of his own medicine. "Something along those lines." No wonder every answer he gave was vague—it made speaking so much easier.

"Well, at least she's honest. Did she give you trouble?"

"Not really, more of a hassle over wanting to speak with you. She really, really doesn't like you."

"Eh, she just wants to be bitter over me. Deep down, she likes me." An impossible idea, especially with how dedicated Tae was to badmouthing him, but Ren seemed to know it. His words came in dry humor, lacking any conviction behind them. He replaced the emptiness behind those words with undeniable charm. "Tae's in denial." Makoto swore L'Effervescence's lights flashed off of his smile, but all too briefly to be sure.

For the first time since sitting down, the conversation did not come to them. Makoto knew what the next step was, but that didn't mean she liked it. She had to ask a question and the only one left to be asked would pry beyond anything he told her up to that point.

"Could I ask another question?"

"Unfortunately, asking that puts you at the maximum." Ren smirked as he laid his hands on the table. "Sorry."

Makoto laughed. "Seriously. One last question, and I completely understand if you don't want to answer this one." Ren's grin faded, only nodding in response as Makoto opened her mouth. "Where did your inheritance come from?"

The reaction Makoto sought came with a delay. First, a pause, his eyes deviating from Makoto, hands withdrawing from the table, and swallowing any spit in his mouth. Makoto watched as the loose ball of thread before her unraveled into nervous ticks and she regretted asking every step of the way. She thought it would be too prying; in the end, it was too unnerving.

Nonetheless, Ren managed to sputter, "I-I… My pa—"

"Good evening, sir." Both Ren and Makoto looked up at the interrupting waiter. He held a bottle of wine, its neck trapped in his elbow while his hand supported its bottom. "The party at the booth in the back corner sends a gift." The waiter set the bottle of wine down on the table. "Does the gentleman wish me to pour?"

Ren turned around in his seat. Makoto only saw the back of his head but knew the exact path that his eyes were taking around the room. She looked as well, finding nothing out of the ordinary or any details to indicate the sender of the wine.

Ren's head of shaggy, unkempt black hair came back around and looked up at the waiter. If he saw something Makoto missed, no hints were given. "Sorry to do this." Ren reached under the table and emerged with his wallet in hand. Several banknotes left his wallet, offering themselves to the server. "Keep the wine, but tell him we graciously accept and thank him for his unparalleled generosity."

"Very well, sir." The bottle was lifted off of the table. With a bow, the waiter took it away from them and back to wherever they stored the wine.

"Um…" More and more questions. Makoto preemptively blamed her curiosity for not getting past the first date. That concern aside, she couldn't keep her mouth shut. "What just happened?"

"Someone I do consulting work for is sitting behind a few tables behind me." Makoto started to lean sideways to see past Ren. "Stop. Don't look, keep your eyes on me."

"What?" Unexpectedly, she did stop without knowing why. Still as curious as ever, she obeyed Ren despite her inquiry outweighing her respect for his request. "Why?"

"Because he's the worst of the worst." Ren reached across the table to squeeze Makoto's hand, holding the cat in place so curiosity wouldn't kill the cat. "That wine wasn't a gift, it was an insult."

"Do you guys have a history or something? I don't see what's so—"

"Just trust me on this. It's better off if you never see him."

"Alright." Makoto breathed deeply, settling back into her seat. "I trust you."

The final third of dinner went perfectly. Ren and Makoto ordered dessert and were again presently surprised by the quality of the food. They both learned to stop doubting L'Effervescence no matter how expensive a sliver of fish may have been. They forgot about the people around them, coming out of their shells and getting just loud enough to get annoyed glares from the regulars. The wine that Ren ordered certainly helped.

Yet no matter how much wine she had—which wasn't very much because Makoto did not want a repeat of that night—the wine that Ren's acquaintance had sent lingered. She didn't ask Ren any further questions on the subject, but she kept the man at the back of her mind, ready and waiting for an opportunity to satiate her curiosity.

When they stood up to leave, Makoto thought she would get her chance. Unfortunately, Ren made sure to close the distance and block her view of that corner of the room. The man must've been truly awful if Ren cared that much about Makoto simply looking at him.

With how quickly he closed the distance, he forced Makoto to start walking to the front or else face him just as closely as she did when they first met. "I'm gonna go give the server a bit extra for his tip. Wanna wait up front?" Her previously tamed butterflies were unleashed by his proximity.

Makoto nodded, sending him and the butterflies away simultaneously. The opportunity to look presented itself, but she didn't know whether Ren kept her in sight or not. Getting caught looking would betray the trust he placed in her and the fact that she trusted him on the issue.

Ascending just a few steps, Makoto reached the platform with the hostess's desk sat. At its side, a black leather bench sat unoccupied. L'Effervescence neared closing time and stopped accepting new customers, so no one needed to wait for a table. Makoto took a spot at the end of the bench and began what she hoped would be a short wait for Ren. Any attempt to look into the corner of the room would've been blocked by the hostess's desk, but Makoto believed she had outgrown her curiosity.

"Ma'am?" Makoto looked up from the floor. With the kind of smile one only saw in fine dining, the hostess looked down on Makoto. "That seat is reserved for people waiting for tables." Or maybe Makoto took the smile the wrong way. She saw it in places other than fine dining. For example, whenever she spoke with the other remaining Niijima.

Makoto wanted to argue. She wanted to wave her arms around and remind the hostess that there wasn't a single soul waiting for a table because L'Effervescence was closing soon, but she let it go for one reason: she was out of place.

"Sorry," Makoto sheepishly spat out. None of the bitterness or anger that she wanted to give the hostess came out.

Makoto stood up; a new view of the restaurant presented itself. As the regulars stayed longer into the night, they got more and more drunk. Makoto and Ren did a bit of drinking, sure, but the regulars were sending waiters down to the storeroom every twenty minutes. Those standing up or trying to leave the restaurant swayed in the wind of inebriation.

However, one person stood out. Ren, perfectly still, towered over the table in the back corner. Makoto couldn't see much, except two people sitting at the table. One was obscured by Ren's form, but Makoto could define the back of one of them.

A bald man watched as Ren spoke to the unseen man. The bald man's age was apparent in the wrinkles on his head that Makoto could sharply see from across the restaurant. His skin practically gave up on clinging to his head and sagged down into his neck.

Ren spun around from the table, fire in his eyes and his face contorted in fury. As soon as he began walking over to the hostess's area his intensity subsided into the calmness Ren maintained throughout the latter half of the date.

To Makoto, the most fascinating part of Ren was the control he had over himself. She noticed definite lapses in control when more passionate topics came about—or when that i-word was said—but he reigned himself in so effortlessly that it made Makoto jealous. As she saw it, he had more understanding of the self than the average person.

As Ren kept his head down and walked, Makoto's urge came back strong. Ren wouldn't know if she took a quick peek. Well, that shouldn't have mattered to her because she was betraying his trust even if he would never know. The two warring sides to the decision did little to sway Makoto either way. Along with everyone else in the restaurant, Makoto conceded to impulsivity.

At that forbidden table, across from the bald man, sat a man more youthful than the first. Middle-aged, early forties by Makoto's guess, with curly black hair that jutted out on the sides. Next, Makoto noticed the man's size; he was massive. The bald man, who did hunch over the table enough to hurt his case, looked almost two feet shorter than the younger man. Both wore pitch-black suits with white undershirts.

Makoto couldn't help but let her eyes linger; what on earth could that man have done to Ren?

A warm voice popped Makoto back to reality. "Ready to go?"

"Oh, yes."

"You drove right?" Makoto's nodded confirmation prompted a smile from Ren as he opened the door for her. "I'll walk you to your car."

"Thanks." Makoto started to walk but stopped. She turned around to give the restaurant a parting glance, something of a kiss-off for what may have been her final time at L'Effervescence. Hopefully, she would be able to come back and feel more natural around the regulars. Or, hopefully not. Feeling more natural would mean that she was becoming one of them.

In that last look, Makoto's gaze crossed a familiar path and locked on a familiar sight. The two men in the back corner met her eyes and stared from across the room. The bald old man held a cigar with his lips, pointing it upward with just the strength of his mouth as smoke rose from its smoldering end. The other man did nothing but hold eye contact with Makoto.

Then he smiled.

"Makoto? You okay?" She snapped around to Ren. The smile made her forget everything as if she only existed when that man noticed her. "The door's pretty heavy," he said, adding a laugh so Makoto wouldn't feel bad.

"S-sorry." She walked out the open door and left the curly-haired man behind, whatever his intentions were behind the smile. Makoto heard the door behind her shut as Ren took his place next to her.

"Which way did you park?"

"Oh, um…" Makoto looked left, then right, down the street even though she knew the answer. "This way." She started walking quickly, not realizing how unnerved she'd been in her final moments at L'Effervescence. The smile should've stayed behind the closed restaurant doors but it followed Makoto and Ren down the sidewalk. Cars went in the opposite direction that the two walked, following the one-way road.

"Did, uh… Something happen back there?" Ren asked suddenly. Makoto planned to walk in silence, despite having a positive opinion of Ren and the date itself. She didn't want to stay silent to spite him, she just lost the ability to think coherently.

"I'm sorry, Ren. I couldn't help myself."

"You looked?"

"Yes."

"Eh, I figured you would. No big deal. Just another bad guy who needs to see a barber, right?"

Makoto gave Ren a smile, one far more endearing and honest than the one she got. "At least I know you're not lying about them. I only looked at them and that was more than enough." With the taboo of those men as a conversation topic being shattered, Makoto pressed on. "Why'd you go speak to them? That waiter really could've used the tip." It was a joke, sure, but Makoto wanted clarification for Ren's lie.

"Actually, I did tip the waiter. I just took the time to stop by their table to thank them for the wine."

"No business?"

"Thankfully, no. They wanted me to sit down and go over the situation that their company's in." Ren slid his hands into his pockets. He naturally walked faster than her but slowed down to her pace. Makoto noticed, seeing him awkwardly shuffle just to slow himself down. It wasn't difficult to stifle a laugh—she just thought of more questions.

"Who do they work for?"

"Full of questions, aren't you?"

"Sorry, you don't have to ans—"

"They're with the Kirijo Group. They're part of the land development sector of the company. I work with them to make sure they have the proper permits for stuff like that."

"That is… Far more boring than I hoped. I thought they were the spawn of all evil."

"They're evil because they're boring."

"Oh, I see…" Makoto laughed and the pair continued walking. She didn't notice, but her comfort with Ren brought them nearly shoulder to shoulder as they walked. They still had quite a way to go because of Makoto's trouble finding parking; an everyday struggle except when she worked, for obvious reasons.

"So… How does tonight stack up to when we first met?"

"Tonight wins. Easily."

"Because you'll be able to remember all of it?"

"Hah, exactly. I enjoyed myself."

"Same for me. I wasn't expecting it to go that well, honestly. No offense to you, I just haven't had the best experiences with dates in the past."

"No offense taken. I thought the same way until I sat down."

"And then my irresistible charm lured you in?"

"I could verify that, yes, your charm wasn't just me remembering that night incorrectly."

"I'm glad. Taking in street drunks without asking questions is a new thing for me. I usually have them go through a survey, multiple background checks, and their astrological sign needs to align with mine before I help them." Makoto loved the dry humor enough to laugh her ass off as they kept walking. "But given that you weren't a sixty-year-old man with a wizard beard, I think you stood out from the competition."

Makoto knew he joked, but her first impression on Ren still embarrassed her, even if he liked it. Her cheeks reddened every time she remembered about falling into him because of her shaky footing. "I'm sorry if I'm apologizing too much, but that night was really out of character for me. I swear I'm not an alcoholic."

"Oh, I believe you. TMPD doesn't employ street-wandering drunks, right?"

"Most of the time." Makoto still felt the need to explain herself without Ren asking. He deserved to know, didn't he? "A few coworkers and I were celebrating a promotion I got. We made the very common mistake of going to the batting cages—"

"—As we all do," Ren interjected.

"And they left me behind when we parted ways." The reality of that betrayal never really hit Makoto until she said it to Ren, realizing how fucked up what Chie and Yukiko did was. "But I'm their boss now, so who gets the last laugh?" She said it to show Ren she had a sense of humor, too, and to stick it to her mental images of her coworkers-turned-subordinates.

"Promotion, huh? What do they have you doing now?"

"Organized crime. We're looking into a small bōryokudan syndicate. I get to lead the investigation."

"Look at you, moving up in the world. At this rate, you'll be commissioner by thirty-five."

"I wish. I need to do something, anything with the case first, but it's hard. Every direction I look is a dead end."

"Hm. I'd offer advice, but…"

Makoto smiled, tugging on Ren's shoulder to jest with him just as much as he did with her. "Financial consultation is dirty work, you have to know something!"

Ren chuckled. "Yeah, you get what I mean. The closest I get to bōryokudan is watching TV."

"You never know, I'm sure some of the companies you work with have ties in some way or another. The last twenty years have seen a lot of regulations that forced bōryokudan to at least attempt legitimacy. They have their hands in everything now."

Makoto and Ren turned a corner. There sat Makoto's white sedan, an old, used car that Makoto cherished for every kilometer it gave her. It was a miracle it didn't make her late to work more often by breaking down.

"This is me. Do you want a ride to your car or…?"

Ren shook his head. "Nope. I took the subway." She watched his arms straighten as he tried to force his hands deeper into his pockets.

"I'm surprised. You seem like you'd drive everywhere."

"Why'd you think that?"

Because she applied every single wealth-related cliché to him to fill the gaps before she got to know him. He must've bought foreign cars while test-driving new ones every week, right?

Makoto kept her rude assumption to herself. "I'm not exactly sure," she said through a delicate smile that toyed with Ren in the same way that his vagueness teased her.

"Well, I'll be taking the subway. It's not so bad, you know. It's my one way of meeting new people."

"Sure, but they all have headphones in these days." Makoto didn't look at him as they spoke. Unlike their dinner conversations, they didn't need eye contact to continue. Both kept their gazes on the car, just knowing that the other was at their side was enough. "Oh, and don't forget drunks nearly walking through the window of your shop—another great way to meet people"

"True, true."

"How about you drive next time and we ca—"

"Actually, I don't drive anywhere. I don't own a car, and I never got my license."

Makoto took her eyes off the darkened sidewalk, looking for a smile or something that indicated sarcasm. "Really? Is that a joke or just another fact of Ren Amamiya?" she teased, expecting him to laugh it off.

Ren pursed his lips into a weak smile. "It's a promise I made to myself. I've never liked driving, so I'll never do it."

"At least you're saving the Earth."

"I do take regular trips on my private jet, though."

"Hah!" Makoto stepped closer to Ren, looking up into his eyes from a few inches below his eye level. "Thanks for tonight. We should do it again."

"I agree, but maybe a bit simpler next time. I could make you some coffee?"

"I'd love that." Makoto made the first move. Stepping even closer, she wrapped her arms around Ren and hugged him. Without hesitation, he returned the gesture. His chest was warm on the side of Makoto's face, as warm as couch cushions that greeted every late-night wanderer. When they finally pulled away, the cold air stung the side of Makoto's face. "I'll text you, alright?"

Ren nodded as he slipped his hands back into his pockets. He watched her as she stepped off the sidewalk and into her car. As ignition began, Makoto waved out the window. One hand left its pocket to slice back and forth through the night, sending Makoto off in a blaze of successful glory.

That wasn't the end of her wonderful evening, however. Free of manners and social obligations, Makoto pulled out her phone when she reached the first red light. A flurry of text messages from coworkers awaited her, all of them congratulatory and excited.

"Holy shit..." she muttered. Green light glared through her windshield, yet she read that top text message from Adachi over and over again until she'd memorized every pixel.

AT: Hayase and I got called to a murder scene in Meguro. Turns out the shooter is one of our guys. Treasure trove of evidence, you'll jump for joy when ya see it!

Finally, Makoto set her phone down in one of her car's cupholders. It left a smile on her face, one complimented by the wine, the jokes, and the confusingly excellent evening she had with Ren Amamiya.