Thursday, 11/10
"Two words: frozen burritos."
"Have you ever had a burrito?
"Of course. They served breakfast burritos in Hawaii."
"I hear those are quite different from actual burritos."
"Then why aren't the frozen ones worth buying and trying?"
"Because they cost a lot for how unhealthy they are. If you must eat junk food, don't let it hurt your wallet."
Hard to argue with that. Curse those American companies for spending so much on shipping—all I want is an oven-heated burrito. It doesn't need to taste good, it doesn't need a healthy level of calories—I just want to try it.
Ren and Makoto took their relationship to the next level that day. They were so in-step, so synchronized in their lifestyles and habits, that they got to the point that all blossoming couples strive to reach: shopping for groceries together. Granted, the circumstances were different than what other couples faced, but it was an important step for any relationship.
Two items were on the agenda. First, Ren needed to stock his pantry and fridge with food besides bread if Makoto was to continue staying over so frequently. Second, he needed the ingredients to cook curry in his apartment. These were simple and achievable goals that wouldn't scrape the half-hour mark. Unfortunately, someone too lazy to shop for groceries and who only ate bread had a whole new world to discover in the supermarket.
Olives, olives, olives… Why didn't anyone tell me about these before? Unlimited free samples, small, great texture, not frowned on by healthy people—literally, the perfect snack. Only knock against them is that they're pricier than chips and instant ramen.
If Makoto weren't there to protect him from the evils of delicious pictures on frozen food boxes, Ren would've gone broke within ten minutes. All food appealed to his bread-overloaded taste buds. Noodles, cheaply recreated foreign foods, everything. Even frozen takoyaki, a thought that made his stomach cower, caused a little bit of hesitation when he passed it.
All the delicious frozen foods that planned to murder his health within fifty years were forsaken by Makoto and her hold on the shopping cart; she led them across the supermarket to things that looked far less appetizing: real food grown on farms.
Ugh. Gross.
Vegetables were too green, too normal looking to water any mouths. The fresh, refrigerated fish and other meat scented its section with anything but hunger-inspiring smells, and worst of all… Eggs.
There's something about the phrase, "A dozen eggs" that is so utterly depressing. The cement-colored cartons don't help that feeling. Seriously. How many centuries of eggs being a regularly traded product, and we're still selling them in these ugly coffins?
"Choose your chicken," Makoto said, gesturing to a wall of meat packets. Throwing them into a wall enticed Ren more than the thought of cooking any of them. "And choose wisely. Sae's standards will be higher now that you're the chef."
"I can't handle the pressure. You pick."
Makoto shrugged. She grabbed a blue and black package like it was nothing and moved on. The lack of weight she gave to the task of shopping confused Ren. Was he not supposed to overthink every item in the store?
Groceries just aren't for me. I'm a bread kinda guy, you know?
"So, uh… What time is Sae coming tomorrow?" Ren asked, following at Makoto's hip while she directed the cart. They turned into an aisle and stopped next to a row of products.
Makoto's hand reached for one item, stopped, then went to another. "We haven't decided."
"That's cool, that's cool." It was not cool. "Junpei says that his dining table is in storage, whatever that means, so maybe stop by later? I don't wanna depend on Junpei bringing it by anytime before eight."
"Who puts a dining table in storage?"
"Who gives an apartment to a teenager?"
"Someone with too much money and too much to drink."
"Agree to agree. Still, the point about the table stands. Come by later. If the table's not there, Sae better appreciate a TV dinner."
"Please, don't serve her whil—"
"It's not up to me."
"Can I have Junpei's number?"
"Wha— no!"
"I'll make sure he brings the table by. I'm scarier than you."
"You are not."
"Oh yes, I am. Student council president versus founder of an unpopular club?"
"Something tells me Junpei won't fear either of those titles."
Friday, 11/11
One day with no school and your luck is gone. What will you do, Makoto? Answer: look at her phone for the umpteenth time in the last ten minutes.
Makoto Niijima:
-I've found myself with nothing but free time until tonight. Should we do the trial now?
Ren had not responded nor had he read the message. It didn't concern Makoto—the act of wasting time did. That morning, her trip to the gym was postponed when she arrived at the restricted doors to learn that somebody tripped on the treadmill and shaved some skin off. As a result, the whole facility was closed to deal with contamination.
With the gym closed, Ren unresponsive, and no school to attend, what was Makoto to do?
That question sent a text message to an always-available friend and brought Makoto to Yongen, right outside of Takemi's clinic.
"A little clarity before we go in, please?" Yuriko asked.
It went without saying that Yuriko could know, but not know. "Ren and I started working for this independent doctor. We act as her specimens for experimental drugs." Beyond that, Yuriko would be clueless, unless Makoto did more than sleep while she was hallucinating, though that would be easily explainable.
"Got it… So how do I get in on it?"
"You want to try the drugs?"
"Hell yeah."
"Her staff is filled out. Sorry."
"Ah, fuck. Well, you gave me a good idea for the weekend." Yuriko pulled out her phone and started typing. She had no respect for the fact that they were literally outside the clinic, ready to enter at any moment; she just typed and typed. "So, uh, all the results I'm getting for 'independent doctors' are in Shinjuku? Should I…?"
"No, probably not."
"Yeah, good call…" She put her phone in her pocket. "Right, that's over with. Time for you to get supervised!"
Makoto rolled her eyes. A poorly worded text as Yuriko's invitation to Yongen had been retold and reused since they first spoke in person that morning, always at Makoto's expense. "Good morning, Yuriko. Would you like to supervise me during a medicinal trial?" God, Makoto. You sounded like Yusuke, she thought as they walked up the steps.
Yuriko the Supervisor held the door for her subordinate, motioning her in, "After you," then laughing as Makoto entered first. Makoto remembered why her hangouts with Yuriko outside of school lunches were sparse—she was a lot, perhaps too much for morning hours.
Coffee could do wonders. I'll stop by and say hi to Sakura-san when this is over, Makoto thought.
"Welcome to— oh … Niijima-san, it's been a while. How are you?" Makoto and Yuriko approached Tae at the counter, taking her attention away from a magazine. Her eyes went from the former to the latter, curiously analyzing why Makoto brought a new face.
"Fine. I'm here to do a trial in Ren's place."
"Oh my god… Is that what he's doing? Shilling out fake psychedelic experiences to his friends, and his… What?" Tae nodded at Makoto, unblinking and unwavering with the judgment that came with her stare. "You're still his girlfriend, right?"
"Yes."
"That fucking kid… He's not even here with you!"
"He didn't respond to my invite."
"You should…" Tae looked at the wall. "Maybe…" She sat up straight and peered over Makoto's shoulder at the door. "I think we need to kill your boyfriend."
"Just let me do the trial."
"Only if you send him back here so I may administer a few slaps on the wrists for how he's treating you."
"It's one meaningless text message. Who cares?"
"Eh, that remains to be seen. When are you two mingling next?"
"Tonight. We have dinner with my sister."
"An important dinner, you'd say?"
"Yes, I suppose."
"Then now is a great time for a trial." She got out of her chair and gestured toward the examination room's door. "Come." Makoto and her still wordless supervisor took the door on their side while Tae took hers. They entered the room at the same time.
It was boringly close to her memory. She wished it changed to accommodate its newest patient. For starters, Tae could use a larger examination room. Her desk and its gadgets were cozily crammed in the corner, and a movable divider hid some other devices. More importantly, they took up space and made the walls smaller than they were.
"Who's your friend?" Tae asked, sitting down at her desk and grabbing from her shelves of substances.
Yuriko took great pride in her introduction. "Yuriko Kuramoto, supervisor and trip-sitt—"
"I go to school with her. We have the day off, so we're here."
"What a great way to spend your time."
"Would you rather we go to the batting cages?"
Tae laughed. "Batting cages are for losers." She scooted her chair across the room toward Makoto. They faced each other, doctor to patient, as Tae held a flask of gratingly green liquid. How many times had Ren drunk something like that? "You asked for it, Niijima-san, and you're wasting your own time."
Yuriko stifled a laugh and moved closer to Makoto, leaning between the girl and Tae so she could inspect the mix. "Quit being a slowpoke, yeah? I wouldn't hesitate—why should you?"
Really? You wouldn't hesitate to drink garbage green cough syrup? Makoto knew she and Yuriko were fundamentally different, but that lack of hesitation was unbelievable.
She quit her stalling and took the cup. "Take care of me. And if Sis or Ren call…"
"Tell them you're busy with another man?"
Makoto stopped the cup just before it touched her lips, shooting Yuriko a glare. Tae did the same, though she beamed at the friend. Makoto cleared her throat—all attention had to be on her because she was the test subject, right?
"Your friend is more fun than you," Tae said.
"I am your patient and I deserve a bit more respect than that.."
"Just drink it already."
Makoto shook her head. Not at the command, but at Tae's relentlessness. Perhaps insisting on the trial resumed their relationship on a bad note, perhaps not. Maybe Tae wanted nothing more than to pester Makoto because of her affiliation with Ren. She did not seem fond of him, that was for sure.
The next time she gazed into the green mix, it was from below. She watched the cup drain and its taste take over her mouth—bitter, thick, with a bit of metal. Any unenjoyable taste she could think of, really.
When exactly do I start seeing things? All the questions that came with the awful taste were more reminders that an answer from Ren would've changed the shape of the morning. He could calm her, tell her what was going to happen, and maybe even shut Tae up, though that was doubtable if the doctor had the gall rag on Makoto. Who knows how rude she is to him, Makoto thought.
Makoto handed the cup to Tae, who took it back to the desk and got to work on filing the paperwork for the trial. As for the anxious patient, she got comfy on the exam table, laying down with her hands resting on her stomach. The supervisor loomed overhead. "So… Nightmare-nightmare-nightmare or happy-happy-happy?"
"I don't know what that means."
"Am I a demon-lady or fuzzy hug monster?"
"Both of those sound like nightmares."
"You're so boring when you test drugs." Yuriko stopped leaning into Makoto's view, stepping away and backing into a chair on the other side of the room. She crossed her arms, stretched out, and took up so much floor space with her careless legs that Tae's side-eye found her. Of course, Yuriko didn't notice and continued. "C'mon, do something."
"Please, be quiet." Makoto figured that would do enough. She closed her eyes and focused on the sensations of her body: her nose's slow breaths, her hands' weight, her heels balancing at the end of the examination table, her head crushing the thin pillow that propped it up.
"But—"
Yuriko would not ruin her meditation. "You're here to watch, not interrupt. Please, Yuriko."
"Fine… I'll take a video and send it to Eiko."
"Ha-ha."
The breaths became deeper when Makoto noticed the air was thinner. Takemi's clinic became noticeably colder against her goosebumped skin, and her previous inhales did not provide enough oxygen. Makoto's calm inhale-exhales became shallow, fast breaths that a sprinter would take, matching the pace at which their feet hit the ground.
"You sound like you're dying, Makoto."
"Am I?"
She opened her eyes. No longer did she lay beneath the blinding doctor's light of the examination room—she stared up at the sun. The stiff padded table that once hurt her shoulders got worse, somehow. Is this…? Makoto pressed her palm against the surface she laid on. Concrete? Where am I?
The air stayed thin, but her breaths normalized. She sat up without any of the effort and concentration that laying down took, looking around to take in her new surroundings.
No Yuriko or Tae, thankfu—
"How's it cracking, Prez?" Hands bit into her shoulders and weight pressed until Makoto's spine folded. That weight shifted across her, a flip or somersault, and Yuriko sat on the concrete right in front of Makoto. She crossed her legs and put the back of her hands on her knees. "Having fun yet?"
"Where are we?"
"On top of a building, you dumbass. That's the sky above you, those are other buildings that way, and that's why the air sucks."
"But no buildings in Tokyo are at the right altitude for—"
"You made this up. There aren't rules. If the air is thin, the air's thin."
Makoto looked left and right, finding only the peaks of other buildings in sight. Tokyo's streets and citizens—if they still existed—were trapped far beneath her. "How do you know?"
"I know this because Ryuu knows this."
Bite Club references? You're fucked up, Makoto, if this is how your hallucination is going. Where's the clairvoyance? Where's the supernatural help? None of the questions boiled down Makoto's problem as well as ol' reliable did. Why all the nonsense?
"Okay…" It was dismissive and distant—the kind of tone that ended conversations. Makoto stood up on the concrete, expanding her view a bit, and looked down at Yuriko. "Skip to the important things, please. How do I progress?"
"Progress?"
"Move forward, get out of here, do what I came here to do… You know." Yuriko raised an eyebrow. Whether it was genuine confusion or a sly attempt to lure Makoto into a trap was unknown. "You know this because I know this."
"Ah, ah… I see." Yuriko stood up as well. She turned her back on Makoto, stepping toward the edge of the building so she could be the tallest hallucinated person in Tokyo. "Mako-bot, skip to the twelfth."
A voice spoke within Makoto's head. "Time acceleration initiated."
Is that what I sound like? She wanted to call everyone she ever left a voicemail and apologize.
Quickly, however, she forgot about the robotic version of herself that lived in her head. More important things were happening, such as a day-night transition that could only be seen in a timelapse. Clouds zipped past overhead, Yuriko and Makoto's shadows grew up then withered, and the sun rose and set as many times as it took.
A few seconds later, it all stopped. Makoto's head spun from a sight that was too real, but she supposed she could continue paying attention to what Yuriko had to show her.
"See the city? How's it look?"
"Uh…" Tops of buildings, streets jammed with cars, specks that moved around the sidewalks. "Very normal."
"Do you know what's special about today?"
"Ann's birthday, of course." Makoto had it saved to her calendar with a reminder and everything. Oh, how unlucky Ann was to end up with her birthday on a school day, but how could she complain when she got to compete in a laser tag tournament?
"Right." Yuriko stepped closer to the edge, skirting dangerously close to her toes having nothing to stand on. "Mako-bot, skip to the fourteenth."
Again, Earth spun dizzyingly fast. A headache reared behind Makoto's skull, pounding every time a cloud blocked the sun and then released light into her eyes after a few seconds. The flashing became too much—Makoto trained her eyes on the cement beneath her feet. Shadows danced and died as day became night, then they resurrected when morning arrived.
"Notice anything different?"
Makoto looked up from the cement.
Different was an understatement.
Tokyo burned. Reflective windows went from pale sunlight to blazing orange. Smoke billowed over the city, darkening the clouds and blocking out the sun. The streets ran red with fire, replacing the people with a wall of flame that enveloped every inch of every street. No people nor cars were in sight, long claimed by the apocalyptic conditions Makoto witnessed.
In the distance, the blue sky bled into a deep red. It was Hell on Earth, and because of what?
Ann's birthday?
"So what do I do? Skip Ann's birthday?"
Yuriko turned around, putting her back to the flames and giving Makoto her giddy attention. A sick smile, one that delighted in Tokyo's destruction, unnerved Makoto. "No, that's fine. Celebrate her however you want, except for one little detail."
"What?"
"Don't let Ryuji get her a present."
"But he's her—"
"Yeah, yeah… Don't let him do it. If you do…" Yuriko twisted her neck over her shoulders like an owl. "Then bad things happen."
"But Tokyo won't burn, correct?"
"Who knows? Maybe Ryuji gets her Russian nuclear codes, maybe a cargo ship of gasoline. Just keep him away from her to be safe."
"This is entirely unreasonable."
"It's your vision, not mine."
How literally can I take this? Tokyo won't burn, obviously, but tragedy occurs if Ryuji gives Ann that present. What if I picked the gift and he gave it to her? Does the act of him giving it to her begin the apocalypse, or is it the gift itself? The implication of Ryuji getting Ann a terrible gift brought some light to Tokyo's shadowy clouds. God, what is Ryuji planning to get her if this is what happens? A gift so terrible that it's represented by Hellfire… I'm more curious than afraid. What could be this bad?
"Fine. It's easy enough to do. He won't like it, but…" Makoto shrugged. His opinion didn't matter in the face of the seriousness they had to give to the hallucination.
"Then we understand each other. Good."
"Is that it?"
"Tokyo burning isn't enough for your bloodlust?"
"No, erm…" Makoto gulped. It was a fake Yuriko that she spoke with, one of her creation, yet she feared it for some reason. It claimed to be a part of her but knew things she didn't. It had an owl head and no fear of heights—who wouldn't be afraid? "There are more things to worry about than Ann's birthday."
"Oh, little miss president wants to pick and choose what fortunes she gets?" Yuriko's tone spat on Makoto's question. "Got it. Fiiiine… We can oblige."
"We?"
Yuriko's eyes left and she nodded behind Makoto. Makoto followed by spinning around, a red and orange blur, and faced the other way atop the building.
"Akechi?"
"Close," Akechi said. He was clad in a very un-Akechi outfit. No peacoat, no fancy watch, no gloves—just white robes like the ones worn in Earth Harmony. His arrogant briefcase, though, still made it into the hallucination. "Guess again." Long hair, uncut in at least a decade, descended past his shoulders and his wizard beard did the same to his chest.
"Uh…" John Groundrunner was her next guess, but Akechi wouldn't be happy about being compared to a movie character. With so guesses being reasonable, Makoto only had one that wouldn't offend. "Jekechi?"
"Really?" Yuriko said from Makoto's side, staring at Akechi as intently as she did. "It's Akesus, obviously."
"Both of you are wrong. Did you not consider it would Goresus?"
No, I did not consider that because all three sound stupid, Makoto thought. The absurdity of the moment could only be blamed on her, and that made it even worse. Makoto considered herself mature; an adult, even. Her mix of Jesus and Akechi lowered her standards for her maturity by at least a decade.
"Whatever. I don't care about your name," she said. "Tell me about something other than Ann's birthday."
"To keep Ren safe…" Makoto's vision narrowed, her ears blocked out the hum of Tokyo's downfall, and the heat of the smog stopped agitating her skin. All senses led her to Akechi and the information he had. She reached what she went to the clinic for: information to help with the calling card. "You must give him an item."
You can't settle for that, Makoto. Demand specifics, she told herself as she stepped closer to Akechi.
"What—give him what?"
"You must place these items in his bag before he leaves for class on Tuesday."
"Tell me!
"You must give him—"
The pot of curry on the stove of Junpei's apartment was a surreal sight. It was the first time Ren cooked food of his own in the apartment, barring occasional chopping of vegetables when the group was over and someone needed help with the meal.
Things are going way, way better than I expected. I dunno. I assumed something would go horribly wrong or I'd be missing some obvious tool required for curry, but everything's gone right so far. Junpei even got the table here early. All that's left is to finish the curry and serve it when Makoto and Sae arrive… Any minute now.
Most surprisingly, Morgana was compliant. Enough treats and a few items to play with had him comfortably residing in Ren's room until the night was over.
Ren stopped stirring the pot when a knock echoed through the apartment. He didn't immediately go to answer the door, though.
A bit of an aggressive knock for Makoto? Maybe it's Sae knocking, but I don't think she'd knock so many times.
The obvious conclusion was selected by the time he mustered the courage to go to the door.
Eh, I'm overthinking it. Just let them in already, Ren.
Ren swung the door open and was nearly run over by a stampeding Yuriko that dragged Makoto in behind her. "Uh… Good day to you, too," Ren said when he recovered his balance and shut the door. He would've had more questions about the presence of Yuriko, but his concern for Makoto came first.
She stood on unusually bent knees, her arms hung low enough for her knuckles to threaten the ground with scraping, and her eyes fluttered open and closed every few seconds. "Mistrial! Mistrial" she proclaimed, and that was enough for Ren to know that he, and she, had gone insane after their first trip to the grocery store as a couple.
"So…" Ren looked at Yuriko. "You gonna tell me what's wrong with her?"
"Why don't you check your phone?"
Ren shrugged and obliged. The pot of curry continued steaming from the stove while he opened his phone to figure out what was wrong with Makoto. He didn't expect a stray notification from his messaging app, and its content shocked him even more.
Makoto Niijima:
-I've found myself with nothing but free time until tonight. Should we do the trial now?
"Fucking shit, fuck!" Ren took another look at his loopy girlfriend and it all made sense. He'd never been as out of it as she was, or so he thought, but anyone could get physically wrecked their first time. "Dinner's over!"
Makoto laughed, pulling on Yuriko by threatening to fall to the ground. "Fucking shit fuck shit shitting fuck fuck dinner! Overtime!"
"Yeah, she's uh…" Yuriko pulled Makoto up straight, putting her arm around her friend to keep her in place. Makoto tried to cross her eyes, scrunched her muscles in pain, and forgot about her first attempt just to try again. "She's fine. Don't worry about—"
"Christ, Yuriko. She's fine?" Ren put his pointer finger right in Makoto's face. She didn't react to it initially, letting him prove his point. "She has no clue what's going on!" Her mouth opened and she lunged forward. Ren's finger barely escaped her jaws, but Makoto's point was made: she wasn't to be trifled with. "Yuriko, come here." He motioned for her to let go of Makoto and follow him to the side of the apartment. She did, letting Makoto slump over the top of the couch and laugh as she did it.
"Her condition isn't a problem," Yuriko said in a whisper.
"Of course it's not a problem for you. You have no stake in how the dinner goes."
"No, but I'm invested. I talked to Sae, you know."
"Oh, great."
"Right, it is great. She's on her way here now."
"What?!"
"But it's from her office, so you've got time."
"Time doesn't change how fucked the night is."
"Stop saying it's fucked. Do you think clear-headed Makoto would want you to be a downer?"
"She'd want me to cancel the dinner!"
Don't forget that Sae basically threatened to kill you if you ever cancel plans on her. Tread carefully.
"That's what you think, but I know her better." Ren wanted to interrupt that ridiculous notion, but Yuriko spoke too fast. "Makoto would want you to soldier through this hardship and prove how caring of a boyfriend you are once and for all."
"You're insane."
"I'm right. And Sae left work early for this, so you don't really have a choice. Wanna piss her off and send her home with her drugged-up sister? How's that look for you, Ren?" The questions sat for seconds, Ren dumbfounded that Yuriko could ever imply something like that. The silence was enough of a scolding for her—she frowned and backtracked. "Okay, bad way of phrasing it. Makoto's perfectly fine and—"
Ren heard enough. "She's staring at the wall like a sedated puppy!"
"Well, a sedated puppy that has no outstanding medical issues, but—"
"I'm done with you. Get out of my apartment before Sae arrives." He tried to push past her. Yuriko shuffled her feet and pushed her hands into Ren's chest, stopping him in place.
"Woah woah woah, hold on. Let me stay for dinner and I'll keep her in check." Ren considered it. However, his anger overcame any reason Yuriko had. He started to shake his head, which only prompted her to open her mouth and blurt out more. "And you can blame me for the state she's in! You don't want Sae accusing you, right?"
I like to think that Sae and I are on good terms, but if she saw Makoto dazedly yelling about mistrials, she'd kill me. Some precautions are necessary, and if Yuriko is offering, why shouldn't she be my excuse?
Makoto toyed with her silverware while Yuriko wiped a bit of drool off her cheek. It was a disturbing sight that made Ren question the strength of his relationship, and if he was worth such an elegant woman.
I mean, I can't even text her back. It's my fault she's drooling on the table.
Thankfully, he didn't need to watch much longer. Sae knocked on the door and the apartment stilled. Yuriko stopped keeping Makoto in order, freeing the delusional girl to swing her head so hard that she swayed out of her chair, barely caught by Yuriko's quick reflexes and commitment to the job.
That left Ren to his task. He left the unfolded table that Junpei so kindly dropped off (and covered with a cheap tablecloth that only existed to mask the blandness) and opened the door for Sae, dressed in her usual outfit and her rough day at work reflecting in her eyes.
"Good evening," she said. Ren nodded, letting her enter. He feared to speak, but he didn't know why. Perhaps Makoto's delusions had to have the first word. "Hello, Makoto. Yuriko."
Yuriko took a dangerous risk by letting go of Makoto to wave. "Hey, Niijima-san!" Makoto's freedom didn't encourage her too much, and she managed to stay put without doing anything abnormal. Already, Ren felt his palms sweat from watching Makoto and her sister exist next to each other, and the first minute had gone swimmingly.
How 'bout the next few hours?
"Sister-san, you came!"
"Um… Yes, I did." Sae set her bag down on the floor next to the chair at the head of the table but didn't sit down. Instead, she turned around and eyed Ren as he returned to the table, asking him with her stare if something bad was going on or if he'd influenced her sister too much. When he got to his chair, she relinquished the pressure and went back to Makoto. "You're in a good mood."
"Why wouldn't I be? We're on a boat."
Sae cleared her throat. "Well…"
I had too much confidence in her. Yuriko and I will have to wing it like that one movie—knock Makoto out when Sae's in the bathroom, give her some sunglasses, and fake it 'til we make it to the end of the night. Jokes aside, that sounds more doable than getting through dinner with an intellectually challenged Makoto.
Ren attempted no salvaging mission. The safer, less embarrassing, option, was to go about business as usual as if Makoto hadn't undergone a psychedelic lobotomy. He walked around the table and joined Makoto at her side, dividing her from Sae.
Or protecting Sae from her.
Sae and Yuriko sat opposite each other at the dueling heads of the table. It was an odd arrangement, one that Sae hopefully didn't care enough about to ask questions, but Makoto needed them to watch her every move.
"How was work today, Sae?"
Ren's best hope was to get Sae talking and keep it that way. Unfortunately, her opinion of her day was sour before she had the words to say so. Bags weighed her eyes down with shadows, sank into the chair like a person who gave up on posture after worrying about it for twelve exhausting hours, and her death stare at the pot of curry in the middle of the table was downright ravenous.
"Too, too much. Better to not talk about it." She glanced at Makoto, saw something she must not have liked, then went back to Ren. "Tell me about your day off."
"I've been prepping all day. Had to talk to Iori-san for the table—he's a lot of fun."
"I ran into him the other day, actually."
"Did you?" Ren jumped for joy at the opportunity and lunged at it, asking the question so quickly that Sae had no hope of dodging it. "Tell me everything about it."
"Oh! I was returning home late last… Monday?" She sought confirmation from Makoto, who undoubtedly already heard the story, but Ren knew that there would be no confirming. Ren couldn't see Makoto to his left, yet her presence weighed down the table, almost as if everyone sensed that bad things happened in her general direction. "Makoto… Are you okay?"
"Jollyjollyjollyjollyjolly!"
Sae stared. "Uh-huh…"
Think fast, Ren! Shit on the table! Stab yourself! Dump the curry on Yuriko!"
"Oh, jeez," Yuriko said, getting everyone to look at her. Her confidence and the naturalness she spoke with calmed Ren, assuring him that no silverware had to enter his body. His palms dried a bit. "Makoto joined a surreal comedy club at Shujin yesterday." Ren's peripheral vision saw Sae raise an eyebrow. "Well, she didn't join—she applied. She needs an hour of material to show the club what she's made of, so this is her working on it."
"Why didn't she explain it?"
"Simple: she's locked in. Surreal humor is illogical and its whole point is to operate without reason. When you do that, it's hard to think normally. She's in something like a trance, but a productively comedic trance."
You know, I'd feel pretty good about this as a cover because Yuriko is a half-decent liar, but come on. Sae's a prosecutor—we're fucked!
"And…" Ren assumed this was the start of the end, the part where Sae asked the question of when Yuriko would start telling the truth. "How does this affect her academics?"
Is Sae going along with this? She knew I was lying for the entirety of our last dinner, yet let me keep going because she thought it was funny watching me struggle. She has to know that Yuriko's lying—she has to be playing along. There's no other reasonable way to think about it.
The curry kept the dinner afloat. Many remarks, all from Sae and Yuriko, expressed their shock that Ren could cook something so delicious. They were accepted despite their status as back-handed compliments, but Ren did not care about what they thought of his curry—he cared whether Makoto was able to chew her food and not embarrass herself in front of her sister.
Besides the occasional "surreal humor joke" as Yuriko deemed it, Makoto was in the clear. Ren kept the conversation balancing back and forth between himself and Sae, getting details about workplace gossip and giving up Shujinstagram horror stories that made Sae more interested in Shujin than ever.
It's weird to think of Sae's coworkers going to her with gossipy stuff. She's not very approachable in that regard. Or most regards.
Like any other dinner where the goal was to keep someone else talking, there were only so many questions Ren could ask, leaving him with a classic mood-killer.
"So what do you guys think of the election?" He hoped Yuriko knew he didn't care what she thought.
Sae took another bite of curry, meaning she was too busy to answer. Yuriko took the silence as her cue. "There's a rapper running for prime minister this year. I don't even know his name, but that's who I'm voting for."
Some people don't deserve to live to voting age.
"You like his music?"
"Never heard it. I just think it's funny that he's a candidate."
Sae finished chewing in time to chastise Yuriko and give her adult common sense. "You should care more about an election like this. It's your civic duty to—"
"My only duty is the freedom to do what I want and care about whatever I like. If I want to vote for a rapper, then I'm voting for that rapper no matter what my 'civic duty' is."
"How can you care so little?"
"When's the voting system cared about me?"
"That…" Sae sighed. Yuriko was lost and no words would lead her to the light. What she needed was a government course, one handily taught to third-years at Shujin. Ren supposed it was expecting too much from her to take her learning to heart. "That's the wrong way to think."
"Agree to disagree. Now, let me judge your choice: who're you voting for?"
"Undecided. I know who I'm not voting for."
"Is he a rapper?"
"No. He's a stone-age messenger hiding his ideologies by mentioning reform—Masayoshi Shido."
Hoo boy. I wonder if that name gets through to Makoto? She's been quiet for a while. Not that I want to change that, though.
"I dunno him."
"Of course you don't. His rallies have inspired a torrent of people who claim that Japan is in the worst state it's ever been. That is why you must care about this election, Kuramoto-san. Each vote is vital."
Ren saw a chance to sway Yuriko to Sae's side, thus getting Sae's opinion of him to improve. It would also reveal a recently-discovered truth to Sae, one that showed honesty. There was no way it could fail, right?
"You know, Shido is the guy who—"
Someone knocked on the door. Ren stammered into silence, Sae curiously watched him, and Yuriko got up. Only Makoto didn't react, still stumped by the taste of the curry. She'd taken dozens of bites but continued eating as if the first one never processed.
Yuriko pranced to the door, blissfully unaware of Sae's fear of a democratic apocalypse, and clamped her hand on the doorknob without checking the peephole. The door swung open and an arrival worse than Makoto's walked through the door.
"Wow! Nice place ya got!" Junpei said, looking around the apartment with newfound wonder in his starred eyes. His body swayed from side to side. He and Makoto shared a struggle, though with different circumstances and substances. "Wait a minute…"
His companion was even more of a shock.
"This is your residence, Iori-san." Yusuke's stiffness starkly contrasted Junpei's and it terrified Ren even more. Drunk Junpei was easy enough—normal Yusuke was an unpredictable nightmare. "Thank you, Kuramoto-san."
Yuriko skipped back to her seat. "Yep, no problem."
Yusuke delicately dragged Junpei's coat off his shoulders and set it on the coat hanger. Junpei, still undecided about the ownership of the apartment, looked at the dining table and perked up when he saw his favorite person. "Rehabilitation! I've missed you!" The irony was palpable.
"Yusuke," Ren finally said. "Why are you here?"
Yusuke and Junpei paused sitting down in the two seats across from Ren and Makoto. "Were we not invited?"
"No, you definitely weren't."
"But…" Yusuke drew his phone from his pocket and Ren knew it was over. If he had immediately accessible evidence, there was no reason to object. Still, Ren wondered what that evidence could be.
I swear to God, if Makoto's the one who invited him… Also—slightly less important—why the Hell are Junpei and Yusuke a duo? They've never met!
Yusuke turned the screen to Ren and let him face the truth.
Ren Amamiya:
-Want to join me, Makoto, and her sister for dinner at my place tonight?
"What the fuck."
Sae stopped chewing. "Watch your mouth." After everything that transpired since Junpei walked in the door, it was infuriating that that was all she had to say.
"I didn't send that!"
Yusuke was not offended that he was not invited, more confused that Ren objected to the visible truth. "You did. At three-fo—"
"Whatever. You're here. Grab a plate and have some curry." Junpei had already started and Yusuke joined in, allowing Ren to finally host a full dinner for the most important people in his life. Still, he was angry that nothing could ever go right when around Sae. This was his opportunity to truly prove himself to her, and how did it go?
Makoto was engaged in "surreal humor," Yuriko squandered her right to vote, Yusuke made a fool of Ren, and Junpei somehow wormed his way into the apartment. It was a miracle that Sae hadn't flipped the table and screamed her head off, but that meant that Ren had to keep making an effort to keep things on the rails.
"Hey, Ren?" Makoto squeaked from his right. He was happy to answer her question, though unhappy that she spoke up at all. Nothing good would come of it. He turned his head to look at her, her eyes locked on a sight across the table from her. "Is Iori-san here?"
Junpei slapped the table. "Good one!"
"Yes, he is. Would you like me to introduce you?"
"Oh, no thanks. I'll sleep in your hat."
Ren, halfway through his wonderfully coherent conversation with his sensible girlfriend, had his attention drawn to Yuriko's end of the table. "Sure, you will." It was hard to say more when he watched Junpei shovel handfuls of curry into his mouth with his palm, his lips not staying closed for long while he chewed.
A scoff of disgust came from Ren's left, from Sae, and he knew he had to act.
"So uh, Junpei! The election. What do you—"
"Ewekshun?" he mouthed through the dam of curry in his mouth. "Hoofor?"
"Uh… I'll let you finish that." Ren had to keep conversation going so Junpei's bites weren't the auditory focus. Nobody at the table was dependable except when it came to being unreliable, bar one member of GRAVY. "Yusuke." He was a good friend, and that had to be enough for him to recognize the pressure Ren was under. "How do you know Iori-san?"
"Adventurers always find one another. I noticed he is a traveler with a particular struggle, and that we share common interests. He could use my help, do you not agree?"
Ren looked right. Junpei was licking the sauce out of the webbed skin of his hand. "Definitely. Did you start helping him yet?"
"We've begun the implementation of the Kitagawa Regimen, but he's a ways away from completing the process."
"I'm stronger than ever!" Junpei chimed in.
"Yes, yes you are," Yusuke said. The strangely condescending tone concerned Ren and weirded him out, but the entire dinner's surrealness pushed him beyond caring. "Enjoy more curry, Iori-san."
Junpei gurgled some words out as he cleaned off his plate with his hands. Next to him, Yuriko watched—disgust on her face like she was forced to watch a dog eat its own vomit.
Suddenly, I respect Yuriko a bit more.
"Kitagawa-kun," Sae said. Everyone turned to look at her. "Makoto's told me a lot about you. You go to Kosei, correct?"
"Indeed."
"How does a Kosei student join a club comprised of Shujin students? How'd you meet Ren and the rest of them?"
What a great story to tell. "It's simple, really. I was enjoying my evening at Inokashira Park when I stumbled upon a delectable treat. However, my indulgence in this treat left me with an unexpected—or expected, depending on the stance you take on the politics of mushroom consumption—stomach ache. Ren and Makoto discovered me in a state of duress and assisted me."
"It's simple, really," Yusuke said. Ren turned his ears off immediately, not wanting to be right. He gave his attention to the other side of the table where Yuriko's head rapidly switched its focus, Junpei to Makoto, Makoto to Junpei.
What's going on here?
Ren watched Junpei. The drunk narrowed the gap between his eyebrow, scrunched his eyes up with effort until his face was red, and stuck out his tongue. His jaw clicked side-to-side, yet his face was pointed at the one person not to be trifled with.
Makoto mumbled something under her breath. She shifted in her seat, folding and unfolding her slick hands on her lap. Junpei's funny—or scary—face was not a comforting sight.
Can I excuse her being scared of Junpei as "surreal humor"? Probably not. I'll let Sae keep talking to Yusuke while I somehow deal with this.
Junpei switched his expression. One curry-brown hand covered his forehead and the other supported his chin. The top hand moved up and down on his face, revealing different emotions each time he did it. One had angry eyebrows, another with watering eyes, another with thinned nostrils that could pass as invisible.
Makoto whimpered.
Yuriko acted faster than Ren. Her top half shrank as she lowered in her chair and extended her legs under the table to kick Junpei in the shin. Ren knew because he watched the whole movement, and saw Junpei get shaken out of his mean face changing. To anyone else, it looked like stretching.
Junpei grunted after a second kick, but it was over. Makoto went back to minding her own business, mostly lost in the sauce of the curry, and Yuriko sat up as if nothing happened. Yusuke still explained his tremendous tale of mushrooms to Sae, and Ren could calm himself for the time being.
Not Junpei, though.
"You are such a bitch for kicking me!"
Yuriko tolerated insults from no one, not even adults. "I wouldn't have to kick you if you weren't so ugly!" The yelling stopped the rest of the table, except Makoto, who continued enjoying her meal.
"Y-you… Meanie!"
"Drunk jackass!"
That was too far for Yusuke—he slammed his fist into the table and shook everyone's drinks. "Do not humiliate an accomplished man such as Iori-san! He is making an effort—"
"I'll say whatever I want because he started it!" Yuriko yelled back.
You're responsible if they keep arguing, Ren.
Ren raised his hands and gradually lowered them, thinking of all the teachers he saw have success with lowering the volume of rowdy classrooms. "Why don't we just—"
"Then you may need to watch the size of your mouth," Yusuke said, glaring across the table at Yuriko. "Otherwise, your teeth may fall out."
"What kind of insult is that, you stupid little—"
"Everyone!" Ren shot out of his seat and ended the argument. Eyes turned to him, some of them wide with the fear of being kicked out. They were right to be afraid—Ren planned on keeping only two people at the table by the time he was done talking. "Can you be quiet?!"
They could. Seconds passed and Ren knew he regained control of his table. Just as he was ready to crack the gavel and doll out some sentences, he lost control all over again.
"Ren, you're being paranoid," Makoto said, everyone turning to the person who dared to challenge Ren's command. "Your sexual insecurity is, like, so out of control."
My what ?!
"Makoto!" Ren didn't want to look at Sae when he heard her yell. It seemed that some things could not be excused as surreal humor any longer. "You are—"
Yusuke lunged across the table, water glass in hand, and tossed his drink in Makoto's face. "That is a heinous accusation to toss at your glorious leader and one that I will happily speak to the falsehood of! Present us with evidence—which will be countered by me, of course—or take a time-out and think of what you've leveled against someone so honorable!"
Ugh… I don't need to be defended, especially with that as the argument—I just want everyone out.
The table achieved the silence that Ren longed for, but it was not his silence to command. Those of the guests who weren't inebriated looked to those who were, expecting the wildcards to ruin things. Water dripped down Makoto's flattened bangs, which hid her eyes, and darkened her top. Yuriko hid her grin behind her hand, Junpei ate more curry, and steam was ready to burst from Sae's ears.
"Might be a good time for a bathroom break," Yuriko said, standing up. "Makoto?"
To Ren's great surprise, Makoto obeyed. She stayed silent and respectful as she stood up, even folding her moist napkin before she set in on the table. She and Yuriko marched to the bathroom door, which Yuriko held for Makoto. She shut it behind her friend as she stayed outside the door to keep watch.
Ren did his best. "So… What haven't we talked about… Sports?"
"We're not going to talk about sports," Sae said.
"Oh. Anything else you'd—"
"Please let me think of what I'm going to say to her when she gets out."
"Uh-huh…" Ren gave up on Sae and looked at Yusuke. "Thanks, man."
"It is not something to be thanked for—it is my duty to defend my leader."
See, this is the kind of loyalty I expect from the club members. Yusuke and I are the only people who take the hierarchy seriously. Everyone else views it as an extracurricular when, in reality, it's life or death.
They had a minute of contemplation as they waited. Yuriko stared daggers at Junpei while he ate as if he was innocent. Yusuke also began digging in, seemingly surprised by how much he enjoyed the food. With how surprised everyone was at the curry's quality, it was becoming more and more of a back-handed slap than a compliment.
The bathroom door clicked open. Chewing ceased and everyone turned their heads to watch Makoto re-join dinner. Her posture was fixed, the water that dampened her hair had dried as best she could, and her eyes were wide open with clarity.
I owe Yusuke for more than defending his leader. He's the reason Makoto's gone back to being normal.
"Makoto," Sae said as Makoto pulled her chair out. "I believe you have something to apologize for."
"Hm?" Makoto stopped halfway through sitting down in the chair. "Oh, right…" She went back to standing so she could properly hold everyone's attention. "Sis, I'm sorry for how this evening's gone."
Is that the tone of taking responsibility that I hear?
"Ren suggested that we play a prank on you because it's November eleventh. That's why things have been so off…"
No, it certainly isn't.
"You dropped in the rankings."
Makoto laughed, shaking the blanket beneath which she and Ren snuggled together. "Which rankings are those?" Morgana purred as he slept atop them. The TV was on, the volume lowered so Morgana wouldn't be upset.
"Favorite housemates. You're in second behind Morgana."
"What? He's a cat!" Makoto hoarsely whispered.
"Yet he doesn't throw me under the bus, stop time, drag my injured body further up the street, and leave me in the bus's path again."
Understanding why Ren was upset, Makoto dismissed it by playfully slapping his shoulder. "You deserved it."
"For trying to serve a nice dinner?"
"You didn't respond to my text this morning."
"Oh, come on."
"It's a perfectly valid reason for you to take the blame. Not like Sis is super upset, anyway."
"I find that hard to believe."
"She likes you and you can cook. Also, name one thing at dinner tonight that is worth genuinely getting upset about?"
The obvious thing is the whole insecurity bit, but if I say that, am I insecure about being called sexually insecure? It's a slippery slope.
While he couldn't say the obvious, there was plenty of evidence to pull from. "Junpei and Yusuke."
"Well, them showing up was your fault. You invited them."
"I swear on Sae that I didn't."
"Then who sent the invite as you?"
"Kobayakawa, Akechi, the patriarchy… Someone real evil."
"Have you not considered the obvious?"
"What's that?"
"We have a friend who's a bit too trigger-happy with how much fun she has manipulating messages."
God dammit, Futaba.
