Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Kosei High School was not all it was cracked up to be.

Rigorous curriculum? Bitch, please. Futaba regularly slept through class and still made some of the best marks on exams. Better chance to cultivate talents? Her computer science class was a joke; everything in that class, she had done years before already. Friendly atmosphere? She had never felt more uncomfortable in an environment than she did as she walked through the halls before and after classes. Giant headphones and a quick walking pace were almost a necessity to be able to attend her own school.

But if her teachers didn’t care if she skipped class and the librarian never paid much attention to her when she stayed for hours… maybe she could learn to live with this.

And thus came the perks of attending Kosei: her teachers acknowledged forcing her to stay in class would only wreck her marks, so they allowed her to wander around the school (within a reasonable restriction). The many, many other weirdos around the school allowed her to slip through the crowd unnoticed. While this resulted in a severe lack of social interaction, it also ensured she wouldn’t be bullied anytime soon, and that seemed like a fair trade off to her. She would still rather take online courses, but if this was what Sojiro wanted and what was best for her character development arc, she could tolerate it.

Futaba walked into the library and immediately took her place at the computer in the corner of the room. She slipped her headphones on, her surroundings fading away as she entered the virtual world.

What should she do now? Her videogame-making engine didn’t sync between computers (as she had figured out one disastrous spring morning after three hours of work), so that wasn’t an option. She sure as hell didn’t want to work on her assignments. Hacking into the school’s database had been fun, but it had almost compromised her scholarship. The only option left was browsing social media. Fine by her.

Was she being watched?

Futaba whipped around, only to see no sign of life in the library. The librarian had her head buried in a stack of papers. The coast was clear, so… why couldn’t she shake the feeling she was being watched?

Fuck it. She entered her login information into the website she affectionately referred to as the blue hellsite and began scrolling through her feed.

A masterpost of resources for programmers, liked and reblogged. A set of screenshots from a funny moment in a game, reblogged. No reaction to a long text post full of discourse. An answered ask from a mutual, liked. Then a gifset of some guy with brown hair and reddish-brown eyes in an interview.

Ugh, she didn’t sign up for stuff like this on her feed. She moved to scroll past it, then stopped upon reading the subtitles.

In the first GIF, the interviewer held a microphone to his own mouth and said, “So, Ace Detective Akechi, you’ve mentioned previously that you are searching for your sibling, yes?” The action of the microphone being held to Akechi’s face was cut off.

The microphone finished making its way to Akechi’s face. He answered, “Indeed. My half-sibling, to be more accurate.” This time, the microphone managed to swing its way back to the interviewer without being cut off.

The next GIF began with the interviewer asking, “Have you made any progress?”

“Yes,” Akechi answered in the fourth GIF. It was by far the shortest one of the set. Futaba almost rolled her eyes; it was overwhelmingly obvious his answers were kept curt on purpose. The microphone swung back over to the oblivious interviewer.

“There have been rumors that you’re recruiting an investigation team to find this missing sibling,” the interviewer said. “Is this true? The public would love to step in and help, you know.”

Akechi’s eyes narrowed the slightest bit in the last GIF, and his smile strained. “These rumors are false. Working alone is my trademark, after all.”

The gifset ended there. The tags of the person on her feed indicated the person being interviewed was some dude named Goro Akechi and was apparently a young detective. Though they had thrown their own commentary into the ring to be critiqued, Futaba couldn’t focus.

Missing family, huh? That had to have eaten away at him forever. Futaba of all people should know.

… Just who was this guy anyway?

Futaba opened a tab in incognito mode and typed the detective’s name into the search bar. The first result was a Wikipedia page link with a short snippet of the page underneath.

She raised an eyebrow. This guy was important enough to have his own Wikipedia page? Talk about goals. She clicked anyway and perused the page.

A quick scan of the contents wrecked her self-esteem immediately.

He was a second-year in high school and had already made a name for himself as one of the top detectives in Tokyo? What the fuck? On top of that, he had connections like nobody’s business, even working under prosecutor Sae Niijima’s supervision. Futaba didn’t need to know much about the outside world to know that that was what the world of the internet called a Big Fucking Deal. 

She continued reading through the summary, then stopped. If Wikipedia wasn’t wrong, then he must have attended some sort of high class school, and Kosei was one of the top schools in the region. She probably hadn’t made the jump to the correct conclusion, but… the prickling sensation she was being watched wouldn’t disappear. Better safe than sorry.

Futaba closed out of the page and took a deep breath, preparing herself to perform a deep cleanse on the computer.

Half-siblings. Sharing one parental figure while having a different one on the other side. Futaba remembered someone from her past, but…

Was that person from her memories her half-sibling? Maybe he was a cousin or even a nephew. All of those were plausible considering her clearest memory of him was him chasing her around the house with a spider. Fucking jerkwad. Did she want to find this guy at all?

Wait.

She shrunk back into the corner of the train car. A pair of eyes was on her. The feeling was unmistakable.

Futaba stepped out of the train and onto the station platform and broke into a run.

“Did you hear about Detective Akechi’s half-sibling?”

“Oh my god, he has one?”

“I know, right?”

Futaba rolled her eyes and continued walking. She didn’t need to bore herself with NPC dialogue.

Apparently neither did the gaze burning into her back, as it momentarily paused for what she could only assume was an eye roll of their own.

Over the next few weeks, Futaba had put what she had learned to the back of her head. There was no point retaining useless information when she could replace it with copious amounts of useless knowledge about her favorite characters from her obsession of the month. Sure, she felt half dead from staying up too late reading meta, but when was the last time she truly felt alive anyway?

Ooh, edgy. She had to remember to post that later.

Futaba yawned as she passed through the gates of her school. A few other students around her mimicked the action (to her secret satisfaction). She had come prepared with her heavy headphones already covering her ears and blocking all sound.

Yet she couldn’t block the feeling that somebody was watching her.

Futaba’s shoulders tensed. She whipped around, but nobody seemed to be staring.

The feeling grew more intense.

Paranoia was a bitch. But was it truly paranoia if they were really out to get you?

She patted herself on the back for remembering at least one thing from her dive into the TV Tropes wormhole last night. At least she had one thing going for her today. But there was nowhere she could retreat without trapping herself. As much as she hated it, maybe she could…

Ah, okay. That guy with blue hair could work. He was tall enough to look intimidating but not notice her presence.

Futaba stepped closer behind him and followed him pace for pace. Was it creepy? Probably. But if it made her feel better, maybe looking like a creep was worth it.

The prickling sensation didn’t fade. In fact, it only grew as footsteps approached.

“Good morning, Kitagawa.”

The person she had hoped to hide behind stopped and turned towards the brunet that had spoken to him. “Good morning, Akechi."

Akechi? Where had she heard that name before…?

Oh, duh. That guy in the gifset, obviously. But her instincts had been correct? Another win to add to her list. (And if she had been less dead, she might have been more shocked that a famous figure in the city was attending her school. But alas, Kosei was a graveyard, and she was no exception to the zombies roaming the level.)

Goro shot him a blinding smile that looked painfully forced. “May I speak to your friend for a moment?”

Whoever Kitagawa was turned around to her. He almost looked surprised, but for the most part, he didn’t seem fazed.

Futaba’s throat tightened, and she gave him the slightest, smallest shake of her head. Please, please, please. Please don’t be an idiot.

Thankfully, his eyes trailed the motion. He had noticed after all. He turned back at Goro. “It seems she doesn’t wish to speak to you.”

A major understatement. Who would want to talk to the guy that’s been stalking them for no reason?

“Ah. Understandable.” Goro offered both of them an overly robotic wave. “Have a nice day, you two.”

Futaba watched him disappear down the hall and into a classroom. Was he the one who had been watching her this entire time? The stare had certainly felt the same. But more importantly, did he just meme by accident?

Oh, shit. Kitagawa.

Futaba turned back around, only to see he had disappeared, too.

Well. That certainly was something. Could she go one day without weird shit happening to her?

She had to keep going. There wasn’t time to stop and think about what happened.

Futaba took a deep breath before hurrying to class.

Futaba stepped to the side and behind a trash can. When she peered over the side, Goro had hid his face behind a newspaper and disappeared into the crowd.

The newspaper was upside-down. God, this guy sucked at hiding.

She took the opportunity to weave through the crowd into Leblanc, making sure to hug the wall as she did so.

“Hello, Miss,” Goro said, tapping her on the shoulder in the hallways. “May I speak to you for a moment?”

Futaba slipped her headphones on and pretended she didn’t hear him or have another person’s train card in her pocket. The most mature way of solving issues.

“Boo!” Futaba shouted as she shoved the person in front of her in the train station.

Goro stumbled forward before whipping around to her. He narrowed his eyes. “Haha, very funny.”

“Just stalking the stalker.”

“Stalking? I’m investigating, not—”

Futaba had already disappeared into a train with her headphones on, immensely satisfied with herself until she realized she had just been rude to someone who was essentially a stranger.

She paused, then relaxed into the chair.

“Investigating” someone was ruder.

The second she saw an all too familiar figure step into Leblanc, she cursed under her breath and ducked behind the counter.

What the fuck was he doing here? As much as she loved Leblanc, its only patrons were either the elderly or people who have lived in Yongen-Jaya all their lives. Goro Akechi was neither of those.

Drat. He must’ve seen her walk in after school every day. Her stealth stat was nonexistent.

Sojiro sighed but ultimately allowed her to stay hidden. He paused upon seeing who had just entered his cafe. “Hey, you’re that detective from TV, right? What are you doing here?”

“Just here to enjoy a nice cup of coffee,” Goro said, his award-winning (read: faker than Futaba’s hair color) smile evident in his voice. “Though I will admit I have some other business here, too.”

“Coming right up, but… what do you mean by that?”

“I have evidence your employee was tampering with the city’s train systems. Instead of turning her in, I would like to offer her a deal.”

Ah, fuck.

There was a pause as Sojiro stopped to think. Futaba could practically see his eyebrow quirking up in confusion.

“Employee?” Sojiro said. “The only employee here is me.”

Now it was Goro’s turn to pause in thought. Futaba almost snickered; she supposed there was no reason for him to believe she wasn’t an employee. She hadn’t been completely defeated after all.

“Is there not someone named Futaba Sakura visiting frequently?” Goro asked.

Fuck. How’d he figure out her name?

Sojiro froze, then looked down to send her a disapproving look. “Are we gonna have to talk about power and responsibility again?”

Futaba shook her head, though she knew she was in for another lecture the moment the store closed. She thought she had been sneaky with it, too. Oh, well. She knew when to give up. But she couldn’t talk while Sojiro was here.

After a few minutes of hearing insufferable small talk, Sojiro finally set a cup of coffee in front of Goro and retreated into the kitchen. The door was left open just a crack as an unsaid safety measure. A bit of pressure was relieved from her chest.

Futaba rose from behind the counter and spat, “How did you know about that?”

Goro gave her a patronizing smile. “Sorry to say, but you weren’t very sneaky. I and some of my fellow classmates witnessed you stealing Kitagawa’s train card out of his bag and returning it some time later. Afterwards, he seemed perplexed that his card wasn’t being charged at all. It was easy to deduce exactly what you had done to his card.”

“Ha. Very well done, detective.”

“So why did you turn to the life of crime?”

Futaba wrinkled her nose. “What? I literally did that twice in my life. And… And it was the least I could do to thank him after he covered for me.”

“... You couldn’t have just thanked him?”

“No way, that’s embarrassing.”

“I don’t understand your logic.”

“I don’t understand yours either.” She paused. “You’re not gonna deactivate what I did, are you?”

“Not if you accept my deal.”

“Well, hurry up and spit it out.”

Goro took an overly long sip of coffee, then set the cup down slowly. “This is a very nice cup of coffee. Would you happen to know what roast was used?”

“Kopi luwak!” Sojiro called from the kitchen.

“That’s an expensive brand, is it not?”

Futaba wasn’t sure if he knew she was an impatient fuck and was only making small talk to piss her off, but intentions didn’t matter. There was no way she was tolerating this any longer; she had a season of anime to catch up on. “Ugh, stop it with the small talk. What do you want?”

Goro’s face blanked. He stared down into his cup of coffee, seemingly noting his reflection in the liquid, before looking back up and meeting a Futaba’s eyes. “Help me find my half-sibling.”

Futaba’s heart stopped. She had expected hacking into the school systems to alter his grades (easy) or digging up dirt on someone (difficulty varied depending on the person) or something that wasn’t this personal. “Help… finding your half-sibling? Don’t you work alone?”

His smile returned. “I see you’ve done your research. Maybe that’s a bit of an unnecessary thing to say; I saw that research, after all.” He paused to take a sip of coffee. “Wikipedia isn’t a reliable source, by the way.”

“Stop being a teacher and answer the question.”

“I have reached the limit of my investigation in the physical world. Much of investigating family involves technology I’m not familiar with. I figured the school’s resident programmer would be able to help me.”

“I…” She shook her head. “Sorry, can’t help you. I may be pretty good at programming, but anything else is a real challenge. I don’t think I’d be much help.”

“But you hacked into city infrastructure, did you not?”

“Beginner’s luck, really.”

Goro smiled, everything about him radiating smugness. “I also watched you perform multiple deep wipes of search history on the school computers at a concerning speed. To do something like that, one must have had many hours of practice.”

“That proves nothing.”

“It proves everything.”

Futaba huffed. Okay, maybe that lie had been a bit pathetic, but she still had questions. Hopefully she could trip him up here. There had to be better options than her. “Why not just grab some professionals?”

“I don’t trust them to not spill something to the media.” He took a sip of coffee. He also looked eerily similar to the Kermit the Frog meme Futaba had been looking at on the way home, but even she could tell this wasn’t the appropriate time to make those comparisons.

“What about me? I can totally spill the beans to anyone.”

“Firstly, who would believe you?”

He sounded like a super villain. Maybe he was one. That wouldn’t surprise her in the slightest.

“We also attend the same school, so I can keep an eye on you there. Additionally, I can report you to the school and police at any time for tampering with city infrastructure.”

Damn, he really thought this through. Futaba would have admired the dedication if it came from literally anybody else. Still, there had to be some way of convincing him this wasn’t a good idea. All logical options had been used, so her only option was appealing to morals. 

Futaba scrunched her face into the saddest, kicked-puppy-esque expression she could. “So you choose to blackmail me?”

“I suppose you could call it that,” he mused.

Ah, right. He had no morals.

Upon the mention of blackmail, Sojiro slammed the kitchen door open and moved to step in front of Futaba. His face was red with anger, and she was certain he was definitely seeing red as well. “Get out of my—”

“Sojiro,” Futaba called. She waited for Sojiro to turn around to her. “It’s okay. Let me think."

“But…” He shook his head and sighed. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Futaba.” His glare returned to Goro. “But I won’t hesitate to come after you myself if you make one wrong step. Just because you’re some big celebrity or whatever doesn’t mean you can do whatever you’d like.”

Goro nodded, seemingly unfazed by the threats. “Reasonable.”

Futaba’s options were limited. Kosei was, by far, the best school she could be in for her high school years if she wanted to stay in Tokyo. It was risky to doubt Goro’s assurance he would turn her in to the police and school for her “crime” (sure, it was a crime, but really?), which would result in her being kicked from Kosei and potentially having a blemish on her record. It was Goro’s word against hers, after all. There was no telling what kind of story he could spin out of something that couldn’t be more severe than a misdemeanor. Not to mention, she was admittedly curious about where this could go. No matter how much research she had done, she didn’t even know where to begin with finding her own lost family member. Maybe this could be helpful for both of them. And when this investigation was over, Futaba could guilt-trip him hard into helping her with her own investigation.

Yeah. Agreeing seemed to be the best option.

Futaba sighed. “Fine, I’ll take your stupid deal. Terms and conditions checked, account created. Start the damn game already.”

Goro’s face brightened. “I’m glad to see you agree.” He tucked sum of money under his cup and stood up. “I’ll be going now. Thank you for the drink.”

Sojiro watched him leave through narrowed eyes. Once the door clicked shut, he turned to Futaba. “Are you sure you want to do this? It won’t be easy, but I can probably find a friend who can get you out of trouble. And they’re not gonna arrest a kid for doing something like messing with a train card.”

“I’m sure,” Futaba said. “I want to find someone, too. I’m gonna need his help for it.”

Sojiro’s jaw clenched, and his grip on the counter tightened. She could see the gears inside his head turning as he flipped between his two options. “... Alright. I’m trusting you to be careful. But if he so much as taps you—”

“I’ll be fine, Sojiro. Really.”

Sojiro looked as if he wasn’t ready to drop the conversation but stopped anyway. “Well, if that’s over with… we need to have a talk about illegal activities and why intentions don’t matter in the eyes of the law.”

Futaba groaned and strapped herself in for a long, boring talk.

Chapter Text

For someone who had been blackmailed into helping one of the bigger celebrities in Tokyo, Futaba was taking it rather well. The only notable change in her routine was she went to class solely to avoid the possibility of running into Goro, who she already saw in the edges of her vision too often to be pure coincidence (and it likely wasn’t. He probably didn’t intend to break his promise of keeping an eye on her, after all). But even then, her actions as the Bad Student™ must continue. Now, she fell asleep using the jacket of her school uniform as a pillow and woke up only when one of the other students took pity on her and poked her when classes ended.

“So, how are your classes going?”

Oh, right. She had an annoying fuck stain of a human-shaped creature to deal with every morning.

Futaba leveled the calmest look she could muster at him (which is to say, completely dead). “Akechi, I woke up not even an hour ago. Can you not?”

“Rise and shine.”

The other people on the train platform seemed to have the same sentiment Futaba did: dead inside and only human in name. Most of the sounds inside the station were screeches as trains stopped and started further down the tracks. If that group of uptight students in her homeroom saw everyone’s horrible postures, they’d be having a fit. It was a muggy Monday morning, and everyone felt it inside their hearts.

Finally, the train stopped at their station. People flooded out before others started filling their spots.

Futaba wrinkled her nose when Goro climbed into the train with her. “Is this gonna be a regular thing? You depleting my social energy bar before hell time even begins?”

Goro blinked, perplexed at what she was talking about before catching on and nodding. He extended his hand to grip the bar above her head. Why did tall people always have to be assholes? “I simply figured I should get to know my investigation partner better. We are working on a case together, after all.”

“You’re faker than flat Earth conspiracies.”

“This is the easiest way to ensure you don’t spill something to the media.”

“There we go.” Futaba smirked. “Not so hard being honest, is it?”

Goro muttered something under his breath but fell silent for the rest of the train ride. Futaba, one; Goro… probably two hundred, considering her overall situation. She needed to find a better ranking system for this.

Whatever. For now, Futaba slid her headphones on and moved away from the stares being directed at Goro. She could still feel Goro’s confused gaze on her, but one staring person was better than an audience.

“Good afternoon, Futaba-chan.” Goro chuckled (to himself like a fucking idiot, Futaba noted). “May I call you that?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Ah.”

The disappointed look on Goro’s face would’ve been funny at literally any other time. Why was he on the school rooftop with her? Neither of them were even allowed up there in the first place, but she had claimed the place as her hideout during lunchtime or whenever class was too overwhelming. Free real estate, yo.

“Anyway,” Goro said, “I wanted to discuss evidence with you. Would that be alright?”

“No.”

He sat down across from her on top of a desk. Asshole. “What do you know about Masayoshi Shido?”

Well. That conversation had taken a turn she didn’t expect.

A chill ran down Futaba’s spine at the intensity of his tone, and her grip on the gaming console in her hands tightened. She gulped and forced herself to look up, only to see the usual polite smile had slipped from Goro’s face and was replaced with a blank expression that looked awfully forced. She dipped her head so she wouldn’t be directly facing him.

“Not much,” Futaba forced herself to squeak out. Her voice trailed away as she continued speaking. “Um… he was a politician, I think. Eventually got jailed for a whole bunch of crimes.”

“That’s all you know?”

“That’s… Yeah, th-that’s all. Sorry.”

Goro stared down at her for a moment before his gaze softened. “Did I scare you? My apologies. That… That wasn’t my intention at all.”

Futaba hazarded a glance up, only to see Goro had his eyes averted and a vaguely sheepish expression on his face.

“Would you like to accompany me to a bubble tea shop after school?” Goro asked, turning to face her again. “It’s my treat.”

“What, so you can blackmail me again?” Futaba hissed.

His nose wrinkled. “I would never resort to blackmailing people with money of all things. How disgusting of a tactic.”

Huh. Shido was jailed for corruption, among a laundry list of other crimes. And Goro seemed genuinely offended she would even suggest he would be the type of person to do that. Were those things connected?

She shelved that thought for now. There was something more pressing to respond to.

“Well, if you’re paying…” Futaba murmured, twiddling her thumbs. Drinking bubble tea with her blackmailer didn’t seem like a good idea on paper, but when was the last time Futaba had a good idea? Not to mention, he was either the best faker of the century or genuinely felt sorry for scaring her (or both. Goro just seemed like that type of weirdo). And there were only so many days she could run on curry and coffee alone…

Goro offered her a small smile. “Excellent. I’ll meet you after school. Please try to do some research on Shido before our meeting.” With that, he pushed himself off the desk and retreated downstairs.

Well, that was strange. At least he hadn’t tried to blackmail her with being on the school rooftop. But then again, she could’ve just turned around and said he came up, too…

Futaba looked down at the game console in her hands before she sighed and swapped it for her phone.

Wikipedia rabbit hole, here she came.

Masayoshi Shido: a man whose career ended after many, many accounts of blackmail, harassment, assault, hiring hitmen, treason, and just generally being a horrible person. He was sentenced to life in a high-security prison. Good riddance.

But that was three years ago.

(Three years ago, a bit before her mother died in the car accident. Three years ago, when she was swiftly adopted by Sojiro after a month of hell with her uncle. She refused to think about it further.)

 In today’s age, that was old news. Why was Goro so fixated on it?

“It’s nice to see you again, Futaba-chan.”

Ah. Speak of the devil.

Futaba stopped a little before they passed the school gates and turned to direct a glare at Goro. “I thought I told you not to call me that.”

“Oh, you did? It must have slipped my mind. My apologies.” He didn’t look sorry at all. Futaba doubted he even forgot. “But I did promise you to bubble tea today. I assure you it won’t be a long walk.”

Futaba shot a quick text to Sojiro explaining where she was going (without mentioning Goro, of course. Sojiro would flip his shit. Still, she kept his number on speed-dial) before slinging her bag over her shoulder and following.

They walked past the gates and into the district of Kanda. Various stores and restaurants lined the streets, and people rushed past. Futaba had always had her headphones on and head down; it was a completely new city to her. A restaurant specializing in tonkatsu, a service for fixing electronics, a manga store… Why did she never bother to look up?

Then as soon as she returned to Earth, she was met with the sight of Goro catching his foot on the sidewalk and stumbling.

Goro Akechi. The so-called Detective Prince. Solved multiple cold missing persons cases. A genius in his field. Fucking tripped on the sidewalk.

Futaba burst out laughing.

Goro corrected his stance immediately, standing tall and steady as he usually did as if he had never stumbled in the first place. Then the motherfucker pouted. What a loser.

“I don’t see how it’s that funny to you,” Goro said.

Futaba tried to explain, but only laughter escaped her mouth. She hunched over, holding her stomach and gasping for breath.

Finally, Goro cracked a smile and turned away. “Well… I suppose it’s a tad comical. Let’s continue.”

She nodded and stumbled after him, fighting to contain her laughter.

It seemed Goro Akechi was a normal human being after all. Just a little.

Once they had arrived at the bubble tea shop and flagged down a table, Futaba proceeded to order the most expensive things on the menu. She didn’t even know what the “special” bubble tea was, she just wanted to piss off Goro. But strangely, Goro didn’t seem too bothered. In fact, he bought the same thing.

Futaba took a sip and wrinkled her nose at the resulting taste. “What flavor is this supposed to be?”

Goro smiled. “Special.”

“I hate you.”

“Noted.”

Futaba didn’t have the patience for this. She leaned back against her chair. “You told me to do research on Shido, right? I looked him up during the rest of lunch. He’s done a bunch of crimes and is in prison for them.”

The smile slipped off Goro’s face, though he still took care to keep his expression calm. “Was there any research concerning his family?”

“No, not really.” She chuckled. “What, don’t tell me you’re, like, his son or something.”

Goro stayed silent.

Ah, shit.

Futaba blinked. “Wait, really?”

“I should’ve known you would piece it together… It seems you’re much smarter than I initially expected.”

Futaba was joking, but she wasn’t about to tell him that when he looked like he was about to go on the monologue of a lifetime.

He sighed, averting his eyes. “Yes, I’m Masayoshi Shido’s illegitimate son, one of several he abandoned. He ruined my mother’s life. I had planned to make my identity known to the public at the apex of his political career to ruin him, but the police caught him before I could say anything. Sae Niijima was the prosecutor in the case and is my current mentor. I suppose I must be thankful for her, but…”

Vengeance. Futaba had a lot of experience with that under her belt.

“That makes a lot of information… tricky to gather, to say the least. Much of it is online in government databases, and the legal records from his court hearing are censored. I have been unable to gather that information on my own. Everything I’ve found says he didn’t have any children other than me.” He looked up to lock eyes with Futaba. “But my memories do not deceive me. Even if we didn’t live in the same household, there was a girl a few years younger than me that I knew and held dear. Our mothers would often visit each other—both due to the nature of their work and for companionship in a horrid situation—so we spent much of our time together. She was my half-sister, though that technicality didn’t matter; we were as close as siblings could be. But when my mother died, I was thrown into the foster care system, and we lost contact.” His fists clenched. “I must find her again. Will you help me?”

Futaba was vaguely aware she was being manipulated. There was no other way to explain why Goro was being so forward with his past when he seemed all too happy to distance himself with an air of politeness.

But she had promised to herself long ago she would find her own missing brother. If hacking into government records and possibly breaking a few laws was all it took to get a detective on her side, she was more than happy to play along.

“Sure,” Futaba said with a shrug. It wasn’t like she had a choice anyway. She sipped at the drink again. The taste had grown on her. Or maybe it was familiar and she just didn’t recognize it yet. “I don’t see why not.”

Goro let out a sigh of relief (one that was exaggerated, now that Futaba was looking for it). “Thank you so much. May I text you later tonight with the research I already have?”

Futaba still didn’t trust Goro fully. Who would? There was no telling what he would do, especially when he seemed to have the upper hand in surveillance. Maybe this was her shot to turn the tables.

“Eh.” Another shrug.

“Excellent.” He pulled out his phone and unlocked it.

Futaba’s eyes widened. She snatched the phone out of his hands. “Wow… Is this the new model? You’re so lucky!”

Goro blinked at the sudden action but shrugged it off. “Would you put your number in there while you have my phone?”

Futaba didn’t respond, too hypnotized to notice.

A privacy switch off here, some changes in camera and microphone functioning there… Voila! She put her number in almost as an afterthought and handed the phone back to Goro.

Goro furrowed his eyebrows at the contact name. “Alibaba?”

Futaba only shrugged. “You can never be too safe with privacy online nowadays.”

“I suppose so. But I refuse to call you by that name.”

“Didn’t expect otherwise.” Futaba finished the rest of her drink and tossed it in a nearby trash can. “Thanks for the drink. I’m heading home.”

“Have a safe trip,” Goro said.

Futaba exited the shop with her heart pounding. She walked a few steps away, then checked her phone.

Bug on and functioning. No sign of any countermeasures other than a relatively weak firewall she could take care of when she got home. Perfect.

She slid her headphones on and walked to the train station.

Ah, right. It vaguely tasted of maple syrup.

“So, you got yourself a friend?”

Futaba froze the second she stepped into Leblanc.

In all honesty, she should’ve seen this coming. The wording in her text was too ambiguous, and her suddenly hanging out with people after spending her time alone was suspicious. All her brain cells had gone into planting the bug, a decision she didn’t regret but looked back on as a stupid choice.

“Well, I wouldn’t call them a friend,” Futaba grumbled. “Just some guy who goes to my school.”

Sojiro raised an eyebrow. “A guy?”

Futaba rolled her eyes in an attempt to mask the way her heart drummed at the thought of being caught. “I use it as a gender-neutral term. God, get with the program, Sojiro.”

Sojiro still looked wary but decided to drop the subject. Good. Futaba wanted to discuss something else anyway.

“By the way,” Futaba said, “you said Mom spent a lot of time searching for someone. Do you know who that was? She wouldn’t tell me anything.”

The air in the room dropped a few degrees. Everything froze.

“Why are you bringing this up all of a sudden?” Sojiro asked with a wince. Any discussion surrounding her mother was a sore spot for both of them. He preferred to swerve around the subject, but Futaba wouldn’t let him run away this time.

“Just thinking. I want to know more about Mom’s work.”

Sojiro sighed, and it looked like he had aged another ten years. “Well… Wakaba didn’t tell me much. All she said was someone she needed to take care of was put into the foster system before she could take him in, and that’s all I know. Sorry.”

A boy, so it was probably her brother. They may not have been complete siblings, but her mother still cared for him as if they were. But he was put into foster care…? Before he was even eight years old? There was no telling where he could’ve ended up or if he was even still alive.

“Hey, cheer up,” he said, patting her on the head. “I’m sure everything will turn out all right.”

“Yeah. It’ll be okay,” Futaba echoed.

She wasn’t sure she believed that.