6Deep in the heart of her Metaverse palace, Sae Niijima sits back in her office chair, eyes shut and chin propped on a gloved hand. With her lips curved into a dreamy, easygoing smile, Sae is a portrait of sloth and lax - the overworked manager caught in a rare nap. Only a careful study and a sharp ear give away her tell: her left hand, drumming leisurely atop the velvet armrest as she awaits her prey.
She's delegated the day to day business of the casino to Bob: visitor services, inventory management. Ever considerate, her manservant's even gone ahead and prepped the buckets full of cash for tonight. All that's required of her is to wait.
Sae listens. The far-off bustle and thrum of her casino echoes up the myriad floors and into her office like vibrations along a spider's web. Her ears sift through the white noise, tensed for the violent thrum of a motorcycle engine.
She'll be back, of that, Sae is certain. She knows how to lure each and every one of her visitors in for one more pull at the slot machine. Be it a small-time criminal sitting on valuable evidence or a single parent with shaky custody rights, Sae knows how to squeeze them all. She's dangled the perfect bait. Makoto will come back.
In the meantime, Sae's fingernails continue their calm, rhythmic drumming.
It won't be much longer.
Monday, October 31 - After School
How much longer now?
Makoto's mechanical pencil taps an urgent drumbeat on her notebook, pleading for the clock in the student council office to move just a little bit faster. Her eyes scan the latest messages in the group chat and a debate she has long since settled in her own mind.
=SkullKidd(8)X=
Hey, we heading back into the palace today or what?
=Al1b(a)ba=
Palace! Palace!
=Niijima143=
Tonight?
Don't you think that's rushing it?
=FoxyArtist=
On the contrary, a decisive strike may prove best.
If we allow your sister to continue her investigation, she may discover some evidence that could unfavorably alter her cognition.
=Pannda_girl=
Makes sense to me. I'm in.
=~*StarOnionFan*~=
Agreed.
Makoto prepares to type a rebuttal but back-up comes from the most unlikely of places.
=TheAce(^v^)=
If it's all the same, might I request that we postpone?
I have a TV interview tonight that will prove rather tricky to reschedule.
=Mister_Jay=
That's fine. I think we could all use an early night tonight.
=Al1b(a)ba=
Oooh…
=SkullKidd(8)X=
LOL I know YOU'LL need an early night, my man!
Amiright, Ann?
=Pannda_girl=
(o_0);
=FoxyArtist=
I'm confused.
Is Joker ill?
=Al1b(a)ba=
Oh he's sick all right.
Caught a case of cat-scratch fever!
MEEEOW!
=SkullKidd(8)X=
ROFL!
=Al1b(a)ba=
XD
=FoxyArtist=
…?
=Pannda_girl=
(-_o)?
What are you two talking about?
Don't make weird jokes! XP
=SkullKidd(8)X=
Aww~! She's so cute when she's embarrassed.
You bagged yourself a sweetheart, dude! For real!
=Pannda_girl=
WHAT?
=Mister_Jay=
um…
=SkullKidd(8)X=
All right, later it is then.
Ping me if anything changes!
=SkullKidd(8)X=has left the chat.
As her teammates log off one by one, Makoto finds herself summoned into a private chat she'd rather avoid.
=TheAce(^v^)=
I hope I'm not being too intrusive but…
Our leader and Takamaki-san.
Are they -?
Makoto scowls as she jabs the on-screen keys.
=Niijima143=
Go ahead and message them yourself.
What are you asking me for?
=TheAce(^v^)=
Ah, so that's how it is.
My apologies. I merely wished to confirm a suspicion.
You see, from the way you always stand so close to him, I had assumed he was -your- lover.
Makoto is both grateful for the digital separation that conceals her blush and furious that she can't punch this jerk in the arm.
=Niijima143=
I guess a great detective can't be right all the time.
=TheAce(^v^)=
True, an element of humility is required.
But I'm so happy for you, Niijima-san.
It must be such a relief to put aside all this play-acting.
=Niijima143=
Acting?
=TheAce(^v^)=
Come now, Niijima-san, I know why you picked him.
Good grades, good looks, good manners.
(~-_-)
He's sickeningly normal.
A perfectly normal boyfriend for a perfectly normal high school girl.
=Niijima143=
I don't know what you're talking about.
=TheAce(^v^)=
Lies don't become you, Makoto.
Even without my glimpse at your phone's home screen,
Even without spying the 'literature' you keep in your book bag,
I could tell.
:)
I know how to spot one of my own.
Makoto is tempted to fire back. "What, a liar?" She bites her tongue and restrains her fingers.
=Niijima143=
I have homework to finish.
=TheAce(^v^)=
Of course.
Let me know if you'd like any literary recommendations.
Although, on second thought …
My collection might be a bit too 'manly' for your tastes.
:)
=Niijima143= has left the chat.
"That self-righteous jerk! What does he know?"
The conversation with Akechi leaves her brain fuming and her mind set. I'm doing it. I'm going back into the Metaverse.
Makoto packs her bag with a little more haste; her books and pencils are tossed in with a little more force and she makes an extra effort to make sure that book is shoved directly to the bottom. She takes a last minute to steel herself – to breathe deeply and reset her composure. She is a Niijima daughter and the student council president. She needs to act the part and not lose her cool over every stray insinuation. I can handle anything.
But when she slides the council office door open, Makoto finds herself utterly taken aback by the figure standing directly in the doorway. "Haru?"
The auburn-haired third year greets her with a cheerful smile. "Good afternoon, Makoto. Do you have a minute?"
No, she doesn't! Every second wasted here is precious time she could spend reforming her sister's shadow. But judging by the anxious wringing of hands, Haru has something on her mind, and the telltale fidget of her legs suggests she's been waiting outside this door some time.
Makoto smiles as she slips into the comforting role of student body president. "I'm always available to hear a concern. Was there something you needed to speak to the student council about?"
Haru giggles and tilts her smile up a notch. "Oh, nothing like that. Actually I just wanted to check in with you. Are you doing well, Mako-chan?"
"Am I well?" The exclamation is out before she can catch herself. "I mean - Yes, very well. Thank you." Mako-chan? Where's that coming from?
"I was meaning to speak with you sooner but you seemed as though you needed some time to yourself."
"Well, I am rather busy and I do need to be going." Makoto steps into the hallway, closing the door and beginning a brisk jaunt to the stairwell. Haru bounds after her like a loyal puppy.
"I know what it's like to see your family inside a palace, Mako-chan. I know these last few days have been hard for you, never mind studying for exams and investigating Crow."
Right, Makoto recalls, because on top of his politely-veiled personal attacks and his blackmailing the Phantom Thieves into disbanding, dear sweet Akechi-kun is lying through his teeth about his familiarity with the Metaverse. But why?
"Well, Futaba-chan will let us know if anything comes up on that front," Makoto reminds her. They reach the ground floor and Haru, sensing her time is short, scoots into Makoto's path once more.
"A-anyway, if you need to talk about your sister - I mean, if you want someone to talk to - well, I think talking is always a good idea. I talk to my flowers all the time and it seems to cheer them up."
Makoto scrunches her face. "I think plants get along fine with good soil and water."
"Oh no, I'm sure of it! Taro-kun grew a whole two inches after I spent a week reading that light novel to him. I measured."
Another odd silence follows as Makoto studies her teammate. Good-natured to a fault, Haru smiles through it all.
Makoto doesn't know what to say to the newest member of the Phantom Thieves. While she's seen first-hand how strong Haru can be - confronting the cognitive versions of her fiancé and her father - she also remembers the tremors consuming Haru's hands when she made those declarations of war; how helpless the heiress had been to fend off her flesh and blood suitor in the real world.
So frail, Makoto winces. Always styling her hair in those puffy ringlets, always wearing that fluffy pink cardigan over her school uniform, as though she'll catch her death of cold without an extra layer. She reminds Makoto so much of a little lost lamb, so desperate to be held and guided.
Always glancing down at your feet. You can't even look me in the eye. How can you possibly understand what I'm going through? Out loud, Makoto is more tactful. "Haru, I appreciate your concern but I really need to be getting home. My sister's expecting dinner ready when she returns."
"Oh, I see."
"So if you'll excuse me, I -"
That's as far as Makoto gets before her shoe slips on a stray paper. "Whoa!" Her legs skitter forward, her arms launch into the air; only Haru's last-minute catch under the shoulders saves Makoto from slamming on her pelvis or twisting an ankle.
But her book bag goes flying anyhow. Makoto pales as her unzipped bag scatters its contents midair, littering the hallway with papers, pens and very private reading materials.
"Mako-chan?"
"I'm okay!" The book! Makoto is on her knees in a heartbeat, snatching up her treasured possessions and cramming them back in her bag. She has to find the book!
"Let me help, Mako-chan!" Without waiting on a reply, Haru jogs over to pick up the furthest items.
"I've got this, Haru." By some miracle, there's only a few students lingering in the hallway and everyone is content to watch from a distance as they offer up snickers and catty remarks.
"Exam stress must be getting to Miss Perfect."
"I guess even robots slip up once in a while."
Makoto ignores them all. Math notebook, calculator. Dammit, where's that -
"Mako-chan, I found your -" Haru's voice dies on her lips. Makoto dies a little inside. Raising her head is unbearable but she forces herself to meet Haru's gaze, to see the girl holding -
Her phone? Oh, sweet relief! Haru's only holding her lost phone. "I've got it, Haru." Makoto offers a hand to accept.
Haru doesn't reciprocate, doesn't even appear to notice. Her eyes, wide in disbelief, are locked on the phone. "Haru?"
It takes a tremendous strength of will but Haru manages to swallow her nerves and turn the unlocked screen over for inspection. The MetaNav app is on display, Makoto's travel history tab available for all to see.
"I - I didn't mean to pry but -"
Makoto swipes the phone back, stabs the 'screen off' button and buries the evidence in her bag. Turning her back on Haru, Makoto picks up the last of her English notes, taps them into an orderly pile and fastidiously returns them to their place, the portrait of order and calm.
"Makoto, have you really been going - I mean, all by yourself?"
"It's nothing, Haru. I'm just doing a little surveillance work on my sister's shadow, that's all. Popping in and out."
"For three hours at a time?"
Damnable phantom app, logging her travel time. Who even collects the data anyway? When she brought it up at the last meeting, their leader could only shrug and mutter something about a "big nose". Nosey indeed!
In the ensuing silence, Haru's fraying nerves send her hands retreating into their sleeves. Only her petite fingertips dare remain to fidget with her zipper. Darn it all, if I don't calm her... Makoto takes a deep breath and puts on her best 'wise mentor' smile.
"Look, I've only been to the palace twice on my own and all we've done is talk." Over shotgun blasts and explosions but Haru needn't concern herself with those details. "The shadow doesn't want to hurt me, Haru. It thinks I'm its family. Its sister. It's just like with your father - you and I, we're recognized differently."
"I suppose..."
"Look, the shadow is telling me all sorts of things about its palace. If I don't do this, we may never be able to progress past certain cognitive barriers inside. This is for the good of the team. You understand that, right?"
"I ... you do have a point. Joker and Mona-chan, they're okay with it?"
"I'm the team tactician; they'd better be okay with it!"
Makoto cringes and tries to walk back from that outburst. "I mean, I don't want to worry them until I've got a solid lead. Besides, our leader seems to have ... other things on his mind."
"You think so too?" Haru beams, eager to gossip over an ordinary school topic. "The other night, Kanako-san from my class saw him with Takamaki-chan at the movie theatre in Shibuya! Isn't it romantic?"
Makoto doesn't even bother hiding her disgusted grimace. Haru deflates.
"Oh... I'm sorry. I didn't... so you really did like -"
"I need to get going."
"Right…"
"Not a word to the team, all right?"
Makoto power walks for the door but before she can escape, Haru calls after her one last time. Makoto turns and answers. Then she's off and running, disappearing down the first back alley she finds. Reality ripples and distorts, and from the opposite end of the dark path, the black rider marches into the Metaverse with grim resolve. "Johanna!"
A name, a battle cry. Makoto tears the mask from her skin to call forth her other self. Johanna revs onto the street in a blaze of nuclear fire. A queen once more, Makoto mounts her silver steed and guns the throttle, grateful beyond words for the engine screaming on her behalf.
She rides through the false city to the golden abomination towering over the judicial district. At the front walkway, the shadowy valets wisely back away, jabbering into their walkie talkies to alert management of the new VIP. Not that it matters. Her shadow is already standing before the front doors, awaiting with eager eyes and a black smile. Its arms spread wide in welcome.
Halfway up the walk, Makoto remembers her final moment with Haru and the chilled look on her ally's face. "So you're going? Back into the palace?"
Sae's shadow closes the gap, placing its hands on Makoto's shoulders just as she'd done to Haru before smiling her parting assurances.
"Haru, trust me. I know exactly what I'm doing."
Makoto flings her useless hand of cards onto the tabletop. "Arrgh! How exactly are you doing this?"
Across the gambling table, Sae's shadow crows and scoops up its poker chip winnings, hording the colourful discs in her arms. "Another round?"
"We're playing blackjack," Makoto exclaims. "This is a game of fixed probabilities, so there's no way you should be winning every round!"
"What can I say? I was born under a lucky star." The shadow glances at the smart phone set aside on the table, chuckling to itself. "Bob, deal 'em out!"
"As you wish, madam." Seated midway between the players, the shadow butler scoops up the stray cards, snapping and shuffling the deck in mid-air with a Las Vegas pizazz.
Makoto's index finger pecks at the felt table while she takes a noisy slurp of her cola. How? Blackjack is a game of set odds - there are so many cards in the deck making so many combinations up to and over twenty-one. Each round she carefully estimates the odds of busting and holds at a safe sum. And each round, the shadow nudges past her by a tally of one or two! It's uncanny!
Scowling at the absurdity of it all, Makoto steals a glance at her cell phone. 8:45 pm. Still plenty of time. She's going to solve the puzzle of this rigged game and win at least one hand if it's the last thing she does!
Sis' shadow, as though sensing her new resolve, decides to throw her a bone. "Such an interesting background photo on your phone. That model's quite the looker."
Makoto slams her phone face-down, cheeks burning red. She sets her eyes to scanning the celling décor. "You're cheating! You've got cameras angled to watch my hand, don't you? You're watching the feed on your phone!"
Sae's shadow only smiles in return. Its smugness sits thick as molasses. Makoto turns to the dealer. "She's cheating, isn't she?"
Bob's shuffling slows by a hair before remembering his prepared statements. "Madam Niijima is playing within all acceptable parameters endorsed by this gaming facility."
"So she's cheating."
The shadow fidgets, looking to his manager for a lifeline. Sae gives a melodious chuckle. "Mako-chan, when you set the rules, it can't be cheating."
Makoto's palm hits the table, rattling the stacks of poker chips. "This is -! Don't you realize where we are? You may have deluded yourself into thinking this is a high-stakes casino but in the real world, this is a court of law!"
The shadow rolls its eyes like a scolded child, scoffing at the lecture. Makoto keeps up the pressure, yanking off her steel visor so she can look this creature right in the eye. "Try to remember! You're not some femme-fatale high roller, you're a public prosecutor!"
"Well if I'm a prosecutor, then maybe I should be the one leading the interrogation." The shadow's smile takes on a nasty edge. "Tell me more about that lovely creature decorating your phone."
Makoto palms her phone, half afraid it'll be teleported off the table. "That's none of your business."
"Ah, no name. I guess you're just a sucker for a cute face. Does your scruffy-haired leader know about those photos?"
"I don't have to answer that."
"And I don't have to entertain a spoiled brat." Sae's shadow pushes back its chair, gesturing at Bob to clean up the table. "Good luck opening that vault."
"Wait!"
The shadow turns back ever so slowly, taunting her with its bemused smile. "Yes?"
Makoto curses inwardly but her back's against the ropes. "If I show you, you have to promise you won't tell anyone. Understand?"
Sae's shadow mimes slashing an 'X' over its breast. "Cross my heart and hope to die."
Do you even have a heart? Makoto shudders at mental flashes of black and wormy organs. And yet, a deal's a deal. Sighing, Makoto unlocks her phone and slides the tablet across the table. Black gloves greedily scoop up the phone, grinning hungrily at Makoto's secret shame, exposed.
A striking, soft-skinned brunette.
"That's Hifumi Togo," Makoto explains, eyes averted to the floor. "She's a Tokyo high school student and a competitive shogi player, the first female competitor to be accepted into the national circuit. With her accomplishments, she's someone I have a lot of admiration for."
The shadow croons, parading the phone around like a boy showing off a magazine centerfold. "Mm-hmm, I can see she's got a lot to admire."
Makoto rolls her eyes. It's not like that! But the photo doesn't exactly present Togo-san at her professional best. Oh, there's a token shogi board sitting in the corner of the frame, its wooden pieces scattered in an artful mess over the tatami mat floor of a traditional Japanese inn, but Togo-san is the photographer's true focus, sitting sideways on her hip while a black cocktail dress with spaghetti straps plunges down her chest and slides up her barely-covered thighs. A bowl of ripe strawberries is set before Togo-san's knees and the photo captures the young woman as she raises one of the tasty treats to her moist, pink lips. Togo-san's eyes stare off and to the side, oblivious to the cameraman and the intrusion on her private delight.
Makoto had thought long and hard before selecting this photo as her phone backdrop and she stands ready to defend her selection: the elegant setting combined with her lackadaisical pose paint Togo-san as a lady both refined and relaxed - a "princess next-door". The mature black dress raises her profile above the common, cutesy idol fodder; her distant eyes declare her indifference to the spotlight. She's above all this shallowness.
Some aspects of the photoshoot are harder to defend. Someone on set (some man) directed Togo-san to slip a dress strap off her shoulder, leaving a ribbon of black lace dangling from her pale upper arm. Her bare shoulder, her open lips; the fact that half the spread is taken up by Togo-san's long, creamy legs - all cheap fodder to entice shallow eyes towards a slimy tabloid cover. And it makes Makoto admire Togo-san all the more for choosing to direct her eyes away from the photographer, away from it all - for pegging herself above all this nonsense.
"That's the cover shot from a magazine interview she did several months back," Makoto explains, arms crossed as she launches into her Togo-san apologist mode. "The writer was supposed to profile her latest matches at the national level but instead, he just quizzed her on all sorts of shallow garbage like her favorite musical groups or what sweets she enjoys. They portrayed her like she's a common idol instead of a strategic mastermind!"
Sae's shadow raises an eyebrow at the long-winded rant. "Uh huh. So, she do a lot of these publicity shoots?"
"A ton! It's actually disgusting what she's required to do in order to stand out in a male-dominated field. I've read inside scoops on Togo-san messageboards - posts from students who attend her school - explaining she only does these shoots to help her family with their money problems. It's the truth."
"Well you've certainly done your homework."
"Oh, you don't believe me?" Makoto snatches her phone back. "I have articles saved to my phone, web links too." Argh, but dammit, here in the Metaverse, all her apps are reduced to cheap placards flashing 'error' messages. How can I -? "Is there a public Wi-Fi here?"
"GoldStar_Guest," Bob chimes from his seat at the table. "One word, underscore after 'Star'. No passcode necessary."
It's the first network on Makoto's list and strangely enough, it works. She connects! Normally she'd pause and focus more on the logistics - connecting to a pretend Internet in a pretend world - but right now she just wants to put this haughty puppet in its place. "What's your contact info?"
"Makoto, you don't have to -"
"Your phone number's the same as in real life, right? I'll text it to you."
"Wow." The shadow shakes its head. "And here you are, lecturing me about my delusions."
Makoto's gauntlet smashes into the table.
"What's your problem? She's someone I admire, so why shouldn't I have a picture to inspire me? If I was a boy, you wouldn't care if I pinned up my favorite baseball player! Why are you making such a big deal whether there's a girl on my phone? It's perfectly normal!"
It would be so easy to rant on and on, unloading rapid-fire shots; instead, Makoto goes for the kill. "You're every bit as bad as my real sister."
Shot fired, Makoto immediately shakes her head at the absurdity of it all: defending herself before a psychic ghost, a doll! "But what's it matter anyway? It's not like any of this is real."
Behind her, there's a chalkboard creek as black fingernails scrape lines into the felt tabletop. "Stop that."
"Stop what?" Makoto's haughty act falls the minute the Shadow grabs her by the shoulders and spins her around.
"Stop with that bullshit, condescending attitude! The 'real' world, my 'real' sister. Look around you - this world is every bit as alive as the one you come from."
Makoto struggles but the shadow's fingers only dig in until she flinches. "Let go! You're only here because my sister became weak."
"Weak? That 'sister' of yours only got as far as she did because of me!"
The fight leaves Makoto's body. Her eyes widen. Is it just her imagination, or has the snarling shadow grown taller? Just a second ago, she swore she barely had to tilt her head to match eyes; now, the shadow looms over her like a growing storm, teeth bared and amber eyes sparking. Its lungs pant in the sharp, metallic rasps of an armored titan.
"What, did you think this was a one-way deal? That I'm some dirty secret your sister puked up and locked away in a closet? No, I'm here because that other Sae Niijima begged for someone to help her! The more I win, the stronger I become - the more that other Sae shares in my power. Her drive, her conviction? That's me, Makoto, and I've been with you two for a damn long time."
Growling, Makoto shrugs the gloved hands off her shoulders. "You teach her to ignore her principles, to seek victory at any cost."
"I show her how the deck's stacked against her. I teach her the way out of a crooked game! If it weren't for me, that other Sae would have a ring on her finger, a screaming baby yanking on her apron strings and you'd be shipped off to the cheapest boarding school your new brother-in-law could find. I'm not some faker you get to thumb your nose at. I'm your other sister, Makoto Niijima."
"Yeah, well maybe one was enough."
They pause, breathing deeply from exertion. It's an awful feeling, this angry, coppery taste in her mouth that makes her want to spit and yet -
It's exhilarating!
As much as this Sae has trashed her, Makoto's stood her ground; trashed her right back. In the real- She corrects herself. In that other world, Sae's the one with all the power. Sae is her legal guardian; she sets her curfew, dispenses her allowance; mandates her chores and responsibilities. Against the breadwinner providing for their lifestyle, Makoto has no room to object. Here, we stand toe-to-toe.
The shadow grins at her. Makoto realizes she's grinning right back.
"Tomorrow night," it declares, flicking a finger at Makoto's forehead, "we're going to do something about that attitude of yours."
Makoto waves the fingers out of her face. "Is that so?"
"You bet your ass. I'm going to show you just what this world has to offer."
Makoto makes a show of considering while she looks for an avenue of payback. Smirking, she makes a small jump and snatches up the shadow's wide-brimmed hat. "Hey!"
The black hat flops over her eyes and suddenly Makoto's a little girl again, playing tug-of-war with sis for dad's policeman's cap. "Maybe I'm going to spend tomorrow night with my friends," she counters, giggling and dodging as the shadow chases her around the table.
"What, you're gonna doll yourself up and go after scruffy hair? Steal him back from lady latex?"
"Maybe I will."
Her defiance only sends the shadow grinning. "You can cut the bullshit." Makoto shrugs in ignorance so the shadow snaps its fingers, winks itself behind her shoulder to deliver a nasty little whisper.
"I know all about those books you're reading."
A chill down her spine freezes Makoto on the spot. It's just like with Akechi and Haru, a simple whisper leaves her stunned and disarmed and she curses herself for seizing up like this. Taking advantage of her stupor, the shadow plucks the too-big hat from Makoto's hair, returning the gambler's crown to its rightful head. "Isn't my little sister is just full of surprises!"
Just as Makoto feels tears forming, Bob clears his throat and inspects his pocket watch. "Madam, your schedule."
Sae's shadow groans and rolls its eyes so Bob serves up a further reminder, raising a metal bucket brimming with cash to the table. Makoto's clenches her nose. Gross, it stinks like … raw fish? The smell mollifies her sister's shadow. It sighs in defeat.
"I guess we're done for tonight."
"You're kicking me out? No, I've still got chips, we've got a game to finish!"
"Honey, I'd love to, but –" she gestures to Bob and his rancid buckets. "Duty calls. Oh, the second combination number? It's two."
Another finger snap and the shadow vanishes with the bucket. Its voice calls out in afterthought: "Tomorrow night, little miss normal girl."
"Yeah... tomorrow," Makoto mutters, so drained as she slumps into a chair. She feels utterly defeated. Bob observes her haggard pose a moment before clearing the air with another cough.
"Would you care for some herbal tea, Miss Niijima? A milk coffee, perhaps?"
"No, it's fine." She can't even look at Bob and he's just a simple shadow. Absently, she thumbs over her phone screens, staring beyond the square grids to the striking brunette beneath. Togo-san looks away in disgust. Pathetic…
Bob's footfalls move alongside her shoulder. Glancing up, she finds yellow slit-eyes observing her phone screen from behind a metal mask. "Miss Togo seems like quite the accomplished shogi player."
"She's something all right," Makoto sighs. She startles as a gloved hand falls on her shoulder, offering a reassuring squeeze.
"My mistress handled that quite indelicately. On behalf of all this establishment, you have my heartfelt apology, Miss Niijima."
"I'm used to it," she shrugs. A sad laugh. "I guess even in this world, Sae has more important things to deal with than me. Hey, Bob?"
"Yes, Miss Niijima?"
"What was all that money for anyway?"
Beneath his mask, Bob's lantern eyes flicker nervously. But before Makoto can press him further, she gasps. A string of very un-Niijima-like vulgarities rip from her throat. She's on her feet in a heartbeat, making a mad dash for the doors. She's just remembered!
"The book!"
Monday, October 31 - Evening
Dressed for bed in fuzzy, pink pajamas and an even fuzzier robe, Haru Okumura scooches her bedside chair up to her windowsill garden, a rather unusually acquired book resting in her lap.
"Mako-chan still hasn't texted me back," she muses, checking once again at her 'hey, I have your book' message. "I hope everything's all right."
Taro-kun and the other succulents flutter in the night breeze, as though reaching over to pet and reassure her. Haru beams. "Thanks, everyone. But isn't this interesting: I never would have guessed Mako-chan was interested in cowboy stories."
Well, lady cowboy stories, she muses. Hmm, maybe … 'cow-girls'? The front jacket is all soft pastels and elegant calligraphy, illustrating two gentle young women in plaid shirts and wide-brimmed hats riding horseback. The redhead wears her hair long and wild; her partner's is a short and boyish blue. Seated atop two noble white mares, the maidens trot gracefully down a summer garden trail decorated with pink rose bushes and windswept flower petals. Both smile fondly as they avert their eyes. Our Secret Summer: A White Lilly Ranch Novel.
Haru reads the back cover blurb. "Sayaka came to the ranch to escape a broken heart. Kyoko came to get away from her family troubles. Neither young girl dreamed they'd find true love instead."
True love – two words that send Haru squealing like she's eating the sweetest of strawberry shortcake. "How cute!" she exclaims, flipping to page one and tucking in.
"Sayaka and Kyoko," Haru muses, cheeks as rosy as her vision. "I wonder which girl will get the boy!"