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Ami Mizuno flicked a speck of dust from the stack of binders she held clutched to her chest. She had only been working as an analyst in the prestigious home office of Silver Millennium Jewelers for a little over six months now, and still she felt her heart flutter with anxiety every time the elevator doors opened onto the CEO's floor. The suit she wore was sensible, though smartly tailored (a gift from Usagi that she hoped never to learn the monetary cost of, else she might break into hives), and still she felt under-dressed for the glittering chandeliered halls where President Tsukino held court.
Thankfully, the president, and therefore much of her staff, was in meetings today, and so the halls were largely empty. Ami smiled at the president's secretary. "I just need to drop these reports on the president's desk."
"Oh sure--hang on." The secretary rummaged through some papers and came up with a glossy magazine. "She asked me to pick this up when I was out. Would you mind leaving that for her while you're at it?"
"Of course." Ami glanced down at the magazine as she added it to her pile and somehow managed to refrain from groaning. What were these magazine editors doing, running cover stories on corporate owners, like they were some kind of celebrity? She waited until she'd rounded the corner and was out of sight of other staff before skimming over the headline. "Meet the Prince of Elysion: How the young jewelry company heir took the family business from rags to riches."
Ami let out a most undignified snort as she pushed open the president's office door. Prince, really? The tabloids were really getting carried away with that one. Maybe they wouldn't think he was so princely if they had been in the room that time that he actually failed to make instant ramen for himself and Usagi.
(He had burned the noodles. How did he manage to burn noodles if he was boiling them?)
The president's enormous office was large enough to hold a sizeable party in, which was something that Ami could not ever imagine her doing. In fact, Ami had to admit that while she had sort of known the president for most of her life, having grown up with her daughter, she could not imagine her having any sort of fun at all. Certainly, the portrait of the stately woman that hung over the desk was not one of somebody who often smiled. Ami glanced up at it as she crossed the room. President Yuuka Tsukino stared back, regal and proud, with hair so pale it almost looked silver. If Mamoru Chiba was a prince, well. President Tsukino could only be considered a queen.
She set the pile of binders down on the desk. Mamoru Chiba smirked roguishly up at her from the magazine cover. Ami supposed the editors did prefer the fresh young face of an underdog company only just starting to find its feet over the aging president of a much older, larger, more successful corporation.
But she could not imagine that this would be of much comfort to President Tsukino. Actually, it seemed a cruelty to leave the magazine prominently displayed on top of the pile like that, even if the president did request it.
As Ami tried to shove the offending magazine under the pile, her hand bumped the computer mouse. The screen flared to life as she leaned across it. Ami knew better than to pry. Her boss's affairs had nothing to do with her, and she would never presume to snoop. President Tsukino trusted her. That was why she had hired Ami--that trust, after years of friendship between Ami and her daughter. But President Tsukino had also hired Ami for her mind. Her keen intelligence. Her quick reading skills.
A glance was all she needed.
Ami calmly exited the president's office. She nodded to her secretary as she passed. She quietly waited for the elevator, stepped inside, selected her floor.
The doors closed, and Ami was fumbling with her phone to call up the president's daughter.
***
The series of texts came in rapid succession, like the opening drum beats of a song. The first few were so garbled that they were nearly unreadable, capslock letters assembled only roughly into word shapes. Eventually they just dissolved into emojis. Crying ones, mostly. Anyone, even her stiff brother, could tell what a crying emoji meant.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity (ten minutes), a response text popped onto her screen. "Oh my god, I'm in a meeting. Can this wait."
Usagi Tsukino wiped at her eyes until the screen was no longer covered by a tearful haze and furiously typed. "NO!!!!!! CALL ME!!!!!!!!! :( :( :("
She could practically hear the sigh through the text that came in response. "20 mins. I'm turning off my phone now."
Usagi threw her phone down on the bed and flopped back onto her pillows. Twenty minutes! Didn't Katashi know the meaning of the word emergency? Granted, she'd spelled it "ENWRGRVY" and put approximately seven lightning bolt emojis around it, but that should have been clear!
She was too worked up to just stew quietly while she waited for Katashi to call back, so she scooped up her phone again and sent a photo of a distressed-looking kitten to each of her friends.
***
When a car pulled up to the Tsukino manor's gated driveway, a veritable ballet of surveillance sequences kicked into gear. Alerts lit up, approved visitor lists were pulled. Cameras tilted contemplatively toward the driver's side window. A speaker crackled to life, a security guard's voice sounding through it. "Hello. State your name and business."
The driver slid her Gucci sunglasses down the bridge of her nose until her blue eyes, lined in perfectly sharp black eyeliner, were peeking over the frames at the camera. Cherry red lips smirked. She let the camera take in her face a moment longer than necessary, wondering just how many seconds it took for the security guard on the other end to realize he knew her face very, very well. Her eyes had graced billboards. Her ears had sparkled with Silver Millennium diamonds in commercials that aired worldwide. Hers was the face that was seen in every Silver Millennium ad for the past ten years.
"Aino," she said simply, and winked.
The guard cleared his throat awkwardly. "Ah… welcome, Ms Aino."
The gate rolled open. Minako Aino smirked as she pulled her powder blue Mini convertible into the driveway. The Tsukino mansion loomed like a small palace, with white marble pillars flanking the entry. She tucked the Mini neatly into a corner beside a fountain and paused to check her makeup in the mirror. That was more habit than necessity, really. The friend she was here to visit would not care one bit whether her lipstick was smudged. It was not, of course, but it was reassuring knowing that Usagi would not judge her for it either way.
She frowned down at her phone. Why was Usagi sending her sad kitten pictures? Did the kitchen run out of strawberry shortcake? Mina mentally ran down the list of bakeries they could make an emergency order from as she strode through the front door, giving the butler who held it for her a smile and wave as she strode down the hall as confidently as if she owned the place. Usagi took both cake and entertaining guests very seriously, and would be highly distressed if she didn't have just the right dessert to offer Mina. By the time Minako reached the door of the parlor, she had pulled up the menu from one of the top bakeries in town, called the Sugar Rose Bakery, and was squinting down at their cake offerings. "What do you think, should we get strawberry, or do you want chocolate instead?"
She glanced up to find the Silver Millennium heiress sprawled face-down across a chaise lounge, her pale yellow chiffon skirt dramatically fanned out over her petite form. Usagi stirred at her voice, and lifted her face, red and puffy from crying, out of a pillow that was no doubt a little damp.
"Minaaaaaa!" She wailed, and flung herself across the room, into Minako's waiting arms.
This seemed slightly more dire than the loss of cake. "Usa! What in the world is wrong?"
The words poured out of Usagi, thick with tears and barely understandable. "Ami read Mama's email and Katashi won't answer his phone and I can't believe Mama would do it but I think it might be true and I don't know what to doooooo!"
Minako blinked through the mess of pale blonde hair that now filled her vision, as Usagi clutched at her desperately. "Whoa, slow down. What's your mom doing and what's it got to do with Katashi?" Anything that involved both Usagi's mother and brother must have been something big. The relationship there was… complicated. Given that Katashi was a high-level executive at Mamoru Chiba's rival company, it did not take knowing the family closely to guess at how complicated.
Usagi sniffled wetly against her ear. "I n-need to tell him--"
At that moment, Ke$ha started playing.
The sound was so discordant compared to the current situation that Minako would have laughed if a clearly-distressed Usagi were not still clinging to her. Usagi jumped back. "That's Katashi!"
"Your ringtone for your brother is Ke$ha? Oh, I bet he loves that…"
"Of course not," Usagi said absently, as she dug her phone out of the mound of pillows she had been crying into. "That's why I haven't changed it." She found her phone, and immediately switched it to speaker. "Onii-chan!"
"Usagi, can you please stop texting me when I'm--am I on speaker?"
"Yes. Mina's here too."
The only thing that could be heard on the other end was a long, drawn out sigh. Minako did not need to see Usagi's white-haired older brother to know that he was scowling. How in the world those two came from the same gene pool was beyond her.
"Usa, I'm very busy. If you've pulled me from a meeting with the executive board just to goof off--"
"MAMA PUT A HIT OUT ON MAMOCHAN!"
Silence rang out in both the room and on the phone line for a moment. Katashi's response came first: a low, very quiet, suspiciously controlled, "she did what?"
Minako's roar echoed him a split second later. "She did WHAT?"
The tears started flowing again as Usagi barreled through the explanation. "Ami read her messages and she's paying a lot of money to someone and she said to neutralize 'M' and you all know what neutralize means right?! I didn't know! Ami had to explain it! And I think M means Mamochan and I don't want him to be neutralized!"
Heavy silence filled the phone line. After a moment, Katashi's voice returned. "Well done. You almost got me."
"This isn't a joke!"
Now Minako was in front of Usagi, taking her hands. "Oh honey, she could have been talking about another company, or a store she wants to close. She could have been talking about exterminating mice, for all we know."
"We don't have mice," Usagi sobbed, as though that was the most important part of Mina's statement.
"Your mother has about 50 stores across Japan alone. I'm sure some of them have mice."
"But why would she use a code word for mice when she could just say mice? That doesn't make sense!" Usagi rallied, her hands tightening around Minako's. "Anyway, why are you to wasting time arguing with me? Mamochan could be in danger right this minute!"
"No, he's not," Katashi sighed. "He's on a 12-hour flight from Milan, which you should very well know."
"Oh." The emergency sirens that seemed to have been blaring inside Usagi's brain for the past half hour faded a little. How could she have forgotten that Mamoru was flying back tonight? So there was no masked assassin climbing in through Mamoru's window right this moment. Not unless contract killers had learned how to fly.
Minako saw her opening, and she pounced. "So there's nothing to worry about yet. I can take the time to look into this, and Katashi..." here she raised her voice a little, giving the phone a pointed look.
Another grudging sigh on the phone line caused a smirk to form on Usagi's lips. That was the my-sister's-just-won-an-argument-and-I-don't-like-admitting-it sigh. "I'll increase his security and see about looking into it on our end. Whatever this is. Just… keep this quiet for now, alright? Don't go doing anything stupid."
Usagi, a grown woman and heiress to one of the largest jewelry companies in the world, stuck her tongue out at the phone. "I never do anything stupid."
***
Mamoru Chiba stepped out of the black company car and promptly stifled a yawn. He smiled apologetically to his driver, who kindly pretended not to notice as he held the passenger door open for him. "Sorry, Kurusu-san. It's been a long flight."
The driver chuckled. He was an older man, and had been driving for the Chiba family since it was a family and not Mamoru alone. He was allowed to take some liberties, as only one who had known Mamoru since he was a child could. "No need to apologize, sir. The hour is awfully late."
Mamoru once again questioned why he had booked a flight that arrived at nearly midnight. It was now almost 2:00 a.m. and he could no longer fathom why his past self would do him this injustice. He stole another quick yawn while Kurusu unloaded his suitcase from the trunk. "I'm sorry you were woken up for this. I don't know what Katashi was thinking. I told him I'd take a cab home."
Kurusu set his small overnight bag on the sidewalk with incredible care. Far more care than Mamoru himself ever took with it. "It's no problem, sir. And he was very insistent that I ensure that you get home safely tonight."
Mamoru sighed and hiked his leather messenger bag on his shoulder. "So Katashi's being Katashi. We'll have to have a chat about his paranoia, after I call up payroll about getting you a bonus for working outside normal business hours."
Kurusu, proper as ever, pretended not to hear a word of what was just said. "Would you like me to take your bag up for you, sir?"
Mamoru took hold of the rolling suitcase. "Thanks, but I just got to spend an entire day in Milan without a single person carrying my things around for me, and I'd like to extend that for as many hours as I can."
Kurusu chuckled again, as Mamoru waved at him over his shoulder. "Goodnight then, sir."
Mamoru mustered up a tired smile for the front desk attendant, who somehow managed to look alert despite the hour. The luxury building boasted spectacular views and tight security. Nobody could enter without passing through the closely-watched lobby. The elevator required a key card or the front desk's override, and even then, access was restricted to specific floors. Nobody went near Mamoru's penthouse level without first being vetted and approved.
He shuffled through his apartment door without bothering to turn on the lights. Suitcase and messenger bag were dumped on the floor. Keys were tossed in the direction of the kitchen counter, where they jingled at roughly the right height to indicate they had made it there. Of course, in a city this size, an apartment was never truly dark. The long curtains that hung in front of his balcony door had been pulled back, and the glittering lights of Tokyo Bay shone below. The orange spike of Tokyo Tower gleamed like a beacon. Though Mamoru had been out of town only a few days, it was a familiar, welcome sight. Across the street, the twin of his apartment building, equal in height, was almost entirely dark. Few were awake at this hour, even if the city below seemed to never sleep.
He shrugged out of his suit jacket and deposited it on the nearest chair as he moved through the apartment. He attacked the tie next, loosening it with fingers that felt clumsy from sleepiness. He was still fumbling with it when he reached the door of his bedroom. It was then that Mamoru heard the noise.
He froze in the doorway. Did he imagine that just now? The faint whisper of fabric, like somebody moving through the shadows? He peered through the darkness of his room, unable to quite make out anything other than the faint outline of the window behind the drawn curtains. There was no reason to imagine anything was there, and yet he could not shake the feeling that he was not alone.
Mamoru reached out and flicked on the light.
Light flooded his vision, and in the momentary blindness, something collided with him, hard, throwing him to the floor.
"Mamo-chaaaaan!" A voice wailed into his torso.
Mamoru blinked down at his chest, where a blonde head with twin hair buns filled his vision. "Usako?"
Usagi pulled herself up from dampening his shirt with fresh tears. By the looks of her eyes, pink and puffy as a rabbit's in the dim light, this was not the beginning of her crying. "I--I knew you were gonna be home late but I couldn't wait I've been worried SICK and Katashi promised he'd take care of it but I couldn't just sit around without knowing you were okay!"
"Whoa, okay, slow down." Mamoru sat up, easing her upright with him. Usagi settled onto his lap in a heap of yellow chiffon skirts. In a combination that only Usagi could look adorable in, she was wearing her favorite old shirt of his on top of her own clothes, a Keio University hoodie that was so well-worn that it looked more grey than its original black. His hand went to her cheek, wiping her tears. "I'm right here, Usako. I was only gone a couple days. Did something happen?"
She hiccoughed, wiping at her other cheek with the sleeve of his hoodie. "Didn't--didn't Katashi tell you? He promised!"
"Tell me what? Is this about the car he sent?"
"He said he'd make sure you're okay!" She wailed this with an absolute conviction that only made his concern redouble. She was distressed, that much was clear. The what and why of her distress ceased to be important.
Mamoru took her face in both his hands and dipped his head so it was level with hers, allowing her to see very clearly how alive and well he was. "I am okay. See? Nothing scary's happened, except I had some really bad coffee in the airport that cost me like 900 yen and I think my stomach's going to be mad about that for a while."
Usagi laughed through her tears. "That's what you get for drinking it, Mamo-baka. Maybe you should have taken your fancy espresso machine with you."
"Oh yes, I'm sure airport security would have been very understanding about the mysterious heavy machine in my bag. That wouldn't raise any questions at all." At her laugh, he could not help the smile that formed. Something about her made him giddy as a teenager. "Speaking of, I could really go for some now."
Usagi made a face as she shifted off his lap, allowing him to stand. "Bleh. It's not even morning!"
"Sure it is," Mamoru said, reaching for her outstretched hands to tug her up with him. "Very early morning."
She stood, and immediately hooked her arms around his neck. "If you get another stomach ache, you are not allowed to make fun of me next time I get one."
He smirked. "Alright, Miss Ice Cream Sundaes for Breakfast. It's a deal."
Usagi gasped, her expression turning serious. "Do you have any of that triple chocolate gelato left?"
"I do, unless a little bunny nicked it while I was out."
Usagi pulled away, swatting him on the arm. "I wouldn't! Ice cream is for sharing."
Mamoru laughed, all his earlier weariness having faded in the excitement. Whatever had Usagi so upset, it seemed to have passed, and maybe they could sort it out over ice cream. "Coffee and gelato, coming right up."
He moved toward the kitchen, and Usagi wandered slowly after him, smoothing out her skirts and tugging down the hem of her oversized hoodie. "Maybe if you put the gelato in the coffee, that will fix the coffee taste. But maybe that would ruin the gelato." The light from the bedroom provided ample enough light in the main apartment to navigate around the sparse furniture. Mamoru liked to keep clutter to a minimum, unlike Usagi, who would have filled this space with all sorts of comfy furniture and pretty decor. She had to admit, though, the open room provided an unobstructed view of the cityscape below.
Usagi did not know why she glanced, then, at the dark apartment building across from Mamoru's. Why her eyes were drawn toward the top floor apartment that was the mirror image of this one. The windows were dark, so there was nothing she could make out, either behind the glass or in front of it on the balcony. Nothing except…
Except the faint shadow of a figure crouched on it.
Usagi screamed wordlessly. For the second time that night she threw herself at Mamoru, sending them both crashing to the kitchen floor. "Usa--" Mamoru started, and that was when the shots fired.
Usagi had never heard gunshots before. She had always imagined they would be louder. She had imagined, too, that they would punch neat little holes through the window, instead of misshapen gaps bigger than a person's head that left shattered glass skidding across the floor. Three sharp pops on the wall above them sent chunks of drywall raining down on Usagi's back.
Mamoru's arms tightened around her then, as though he could pull her even closer to him, out of harm's way. They clung to each other, both desperately trying to shield the other from danger, rapid breaths in each other's ears. Usagi wildly cast around for an escape and looked to the door. It was so close. They could get to it in seconds if they sprinted, but standing risked entering the sniper's line of sight. But who knew if the sniper could see them now? Maybe the sniper was lining up a shot this very moment?
The door burst open.
Usagi screamed as more shots sounded, burying her face in Mamoru's chest.
"Katashi!" Mamoru's voice brought her head back up. There in the doorway stood her brother, wearing the same drab grey suit she always made fun of him for. His hair was the same silver-white as their mother's, straight and fine as silk and long enough to spill over his shoulders. Those last shots she'd heard must have come from the pistol he held trained on the holes in the window.
Katashi did not glance down at the sound of his name. He fired two more shots at the opposing apartment--surely he could not see the shadowed assailant, could he? But anybody would duck out of the way of random gun fire. "Get to the elevator, now!"
Usagi scrambled up, trying to disentangle herself from Mamoru without also tripping over the hem of her skirt. Mamoru, before he had even risen, dove for the messenger bag he had left on the floor before he followed her, automatically wrapping an arm around her waist.
They ducked past Katashi, out the door of the apartment, sprinted down the hall. Usagi did not slow at all, letting her full body slam into the wall beside the elevator. The button was pressed by some part of her--perhaps an arm?--and the number above began its slow upward count.
Mamoru stood behind Usagi like a shield, his hands never leaving her back. She looked back at him, and could not believe he had the audacity to look handsome at a time like this, the top button of his blue shirt undone, his tie loose and hanging askew, his raven black hair tousled. He was just shot at! Couldn't he at least look like as much of a jittery mess Usagi felt? "Katashi!" he called back down the hall.
The elevator was nearing their floor, and still her brother had not joined them. "Onii-chan!" Usagi shouted, frantic.
Katashi reappeared, alive and well, just as the door dinged open. He motioned for the pair to keep moving while he jogged after them, pistol trained on the floor like they did in cop shows. And now Usagi had someone else to be angry at, because since when was her quiet, giant nerd of a brother allowed to walk around with a gun like he knew how to hold it? Since when did he have a gun? It seemed cosmically unfair that he got to look cool while all she could do was scream her head off.
Two, then three were in the elevator, Mamoru slammed the button with his fist, the door slid shut behind Katashi, and suddenly the only sound they were left with was each other's panting, and their own heartbeats drumming in their ears.
That is, until Usagi stepped over to Katashi, and smacked him on the arm, three times, each time punctuating her words. "You said! You were! Dealing with it!"
Her brother, who was easily taller than her boyfriend, who himself towered over Usagi, did not even flinch. "You did not exactly give me much lead time, little sister."
"Deal with what? What just happened?" Mamoru looked back and forth between the two of them--between his girlfriend of several months, who he was deeply in love with, and his closest friend and confidante.
Usagi and Katashi stared at one another. Who was going to break it to him that their own mother wanted him dead?
It was Katashi who spoke first. "Your girlfriend uncovered an assassination plot against you."
Mamoru's blue eyes went wide, as he looked between them again. But Katashi was not often inclined to making jokes, Usagi had already been sobbing all over him since the moment he got home, and now he had to replace the windows in his apartment. Then he snorted, an awkward sort of laugh that Usagi recognized as Mamoru's response to nervousness. "Really, am I important enough to call it assassination? How many people have to know your name before they stop just calling it murder?"
Usagi's hand went to his. "I think you're more than famous enough."
If Katashi were inclined to making facial expressions, he might have rolled his eyes. Fortunately the elevator dinged at that moment, and the doors slid open. "Let's go."
Usagi blinked at the dark room beyond the doors, where weights and equipment loomed in the dim light. "Wait--this isn't the lobby."
Katashi led the way through the building's private gym. "They'll be watching the front. The emergency exit will take us through the back alley."
"Should I be concerned that you know this place's layout better than I do?" Mamoru joked, trailing after him with his hand laced through Usagi's.
The gym was eerie at night. Usagi never had much inclination for such places, so the equipment looked that much more alien to her as they wove around it. She half-expected one of the misshapen lumps to detach itself from the other shadows and leap at them. But the shadows remained where they were, and soon the three were through the emergency exit and racing down the stairwell.
As they reached the ground floor, Katashi spoke again. "Alright, stay here while I bring the car around. If we can just--" He pushed the door open, and froze. In narrow alley outside, a powder blue Mini convertible waited. Minako Aino smiled serenely, leaning against the car door and twirling her keys. "Need a ride, handsome?"
Katashi looked down at the shoebox-sized car. "In that?"
She shrugged. "You could take your chances with walking."
"My car is around the corner."
"You're wasting time," Minako cautioned. She nodded down at the pistol he held by his side. "Tell you what. You can drive, and I take shotgun."
Usagi watched her brother with interest, surprised to see him hesitate over anything. "You drive," he said finally, making for the passenger seat.
Usagi pulled Mamoru close as they followed him through the door, and hissed, "Mamochan, why does Katashi have a gun? Are you making him do dangerous stuff?"
Mamoru gave her a startled look. "That… I… can we talk about this when we're not on the run?"
Usagi scrunched up her face. "Okay, but you better promise to tell me everything!"
"I promise. I promise Usako, okay?" They climbed into the Mini's back seat, Usagi having to arrange her long skirts so Mamoru did not sit on them.
"Buckle up, kids!" Mina shouted as the Mini roared to life. They zipped out of the alley, cornering with dizzying speed and racing down the street.
Mamoru grunted as his head collided with the window beside him after another breakneck turn. "Miss Aino, your little clown car sucks!"
Mina's speed did not slow one bit. "I'm sorry, Mr. President. How about you hop out and wait for me to find you a limo?"
"You're very different from your public persona, Miss Supermodel."
"Really? I did a perfume ad last year with a secret agent theme. I've still got that black catsuit." She took another corner, weaving through the scattered late night traffic. Mamoru's apartment tower, and the orange glow of the Tokyo Tower, had long since vanished into the urban landscape. "So do we have a destination planned, or are we just driving?"
Katashi was somehow managing to scrutinize the area around them, despite how often his head collided with the car roof. "We're too exposed like this. If they saw us leave, it's only a matter of time before we're spotted."
"If it's me they're after, we'd better steer clear of anything or anyone associated with me." Mamoru rubbed at his temple, clearly frustrated that he was apparently at the centre of all of this, and yet he could not be of any help.
Usagi sat up abruptly. "Oh! No, wait, I've got this."
"We're not going near our mom's place either," Katashi noted.
Usagi wrinkled her nose at him. "Not there! I'm not dumb, you know! Mina, go to the Sugar Rose Bakery!"
Mina eyed her in the rear view mirror. "You want cake now?"
Usagi pulled her phone out of the pocket of Mamoru's oversized hoodie. "Just go. I'll call Mako-chan. I hope she'll forgive me for waking her up…"
Mina threw Katashi a glance. The flat look he gave her said, "I gave up on trying to keep track of my sister's friend circle 20 years ago; your guess is as good as mine."
Usagi found the right contact, and soon she was chatting into her phone as brightly and excitedly as though she was inviting an old friend over to tea, and not requesting that said friend shelter four people on the run.
Mamoru leaned forward against Katashi's seat. "You keep glancing in the mirror."
Minako was doing the same. "You see it too, huh?"
Katashi nodded. "Same car's been following for a while." Mamoru turned to look behind them. A dark grey car with tinted windows hovered a few car lengths back. As Minako shifted lanes, the other car did the same.
Usagi hung up her phone after a series of thank yous and I love yous. "Mako-chan says it's fine! She's never met Mamo-chan, so there's no reason for anyone to look for him there."
Minako accelerated. "Good. Now we just need to shake our tail."
Usagi tilted her head. "Tail?"
The car surged forward. Minako took corner after corner, wove through traffic, ducked into alleyways. Still the grey car trailed behind like a shadow, always managing to catch up even once they thought they'd left it behind. "I don't think you're going to outrun it," Katashi finally noted, "and the longer it follows us, the higher the chance that more will move in."
Minako looked at him. "What do you suggest?"
Katashi looked back at her.
Mina's eyes narrowed. "If you damage my car, you're paying for it." Even as she said it, she was easing off on the accelerator.
The grey car advanced. It shifted into the other lane as it neared, as though it planned to pass the powder blue Mini.
"Usagi, roll down your window, please." As he said this, Katashi was loading his pistol. Usagi stared, fascinated, and fumbled to do as he asked. "And get your heads down, both of you." Mamoru sank down in his seat and pulled Usagi down on top of him, the two of them squished as low as they could get in the confined back seat.
His arm extended behind the driver's seat, the pistol aimed through the open back window. Minako held the car steady as the grey vehicle slowly rolled up beside them. Katashi remained so still that Usagi wondered if he breathed. The tinted windshield was in full view now, city lights glistening on its oily black surface.
With as little movement as she could manage, Usagi brought her hands up to her ears and buried her face in Mamoru's shirt. Still she jumped when she heard the single shot, and Mamoru's arms tightened around her.
The Mini jumped forward suddenly as Minako gunned it. The cold night air whipped over Usagi's face. "Is it gone?" The sound of an almighty crash answered her question for her.
Minako glanced in her rear view mirror again. The grey car sat where it had smashed into a pole, unmoving. "We're clear."
Mamoru sat up, but Usagi remained huddled against him, shivering a little, and his arms remained firmly around her.
They stashed the Mini in an underground parkade several blocks from the bakery. Usagi did not see Katashi's pistol again, but his hand strayed close to his jacket sometimes. Mamoru's hand never left Usagi's as she led them around behind the darkened bakery to a door tucked in the alley and rang a doorbell. The other three cast nervous glances around the alley as they waited, clearly expecting someone to come jumping out of the shadows.
After several long seconds, a woman who appeared to be made entirely of warmth and height pushed the door open, and promptly pulled Usagi into a hug. "Oh honey, what's going on? Are you in some kind of trouble?"
The hug undid Usagi again, and she immediately fell to sobbing out an explanation into Makoto's shoulder. Though she almost certainly could not understand what was being said, she nevertheless made soothing motions on Usagi's back while nodding at the others to come on inside. A steep flight of stairs led them up to a cozy apartment over the bakery. The blinds were drawn on all the windows, though the sills were so thickly packed with plants that any onlooker would likely have difficulty seeing in from the street anyway. The three of them were ushered to a couch that had multiple crocheted blankets draped over it. A teapot was already steeping on the low table, a plate of cookies beside it. Little porcelain teacups with saucers were laid out for each of them. "Help yourselves, looks like you could all use it," Makoto instructed them, while she escorted Usagi into the bathroom to get cleaned up.
Mamoru and Katashi stared blankly at the teapot, like they did not know how to reconcile it with the events of the past few hours.
Minako reached for it. "Well I could certainly use some tea."
Katashi drew his hands over his face. "We need to think about our next move."
Minako handed him a cup. "You can do that while you drink tea, champ. Also if you turn down free cookies from the Sugar Rose's baker herself, you will regret it for the rest of your life. People line up down the street for this place."
Mamoru shook himself from the thousand-yard stare he had sunk into. "Why were you there, Minako?"
Mina handed him a cup with a red rose painted on the side. "Your girlfriend asked me to look into things too. Wasn't as hard as you'd think. A contract that size had to generate some chatter." She poured a cup with pink polka dots and set it aside for Usagi. "I saw Katashi's car out front, had a hunch which way he'd take you."
A thousand questions ran through Mamoru's brain, including why do you know the layout of my building, which you have never, as far as I know, visited? But the one he spoke was, "Usagi asked a model to look into a hit contract?"
A smile crossed Minako's lips as she lifted her own cup to blow on her tea. She glanced at Katashi. "Well would you look at that. So he doesn't tell you everything."
Katashi, somehow, managed to look like he heard none of this conversation.
Makoto bustled back into the room. Her long brunette hair was pulled up into a ponytail. "Right, sorry I don't have much space here. I don't normally entertain millionaires."
Mamoru ducked his head in a quick bow. "We're the ones who should be apologizing, Makoto. Thank you for allowing us to intrude upon you."
Makoto smiled at him. "You I know. She gushes about you enough. Sorry to hear you're running for your life." She turned to Katashi. "Aaaaand I think I can guess. She does a very good impression of you."
Katashi took a sip of his tea. "I'm sure that she does."
Makoto turned to Minako, and her eyes widened. "Oh. I--I have your perfume."
Mina smiled. "Do you? It suits you better than me, I think. It's got a lot of floral notes. Like this tea. Rose and peppermint?"
Makoto smiled weakly. CEO in her living room, no problem. Minako Aino in her living room, now she was apparently nervous. "Spearmint. My own blend. It should go well with the cookies."
"Mako makes everything delicious," Usagi announced, though her own voice was still wobbly from crying. She came up behind Makoto and wrapped her arms around her, which meant the only way her face could be seen was if Makoto lifted her arm. Which she did, resting it right between Usagi's odango.
"So, President Chiba," Makoto stated in her matter-of-fact way, "why would somebody out there want you dead?"
Mamoru sank back into the couch. "That is an excellent question."
"I have my suspicions as to who," Katashi said, his eyes meeting Usagi's, "but not why. If it were only about undermining Elysion, there are plenty of less direct and less expensive measures that somebody could take."
Minako took a sip of her tea. "Hmm. A little birdie tells me that this wasn't just a hit contract." She set her cup down carefully on the saucer and gave Mamoru a pointed look. "This was an acquisition contract."
Usagi nudged Makoto. "What's that mean?"
Katashi was looking at Mamoru now too. "You told me this was a business trip."
Mamoru looked sheepish. "It was! Most of it."
Katashi ran his hands down his face again, and Usagi could tell that he already knew what Mamoru was going to say, even before she did. "What," he said lowly, "did you do?"
Mamoru glanced around the room, and saw nothing but expectant faces. Sighing, he reached for his messenger bag.
He pulled out a small box, and set it on the table beside his teacup. It was larger than a ring box, perhaps large enough to hold the teacup itself. He opened it.
There was a collective gasp. Even in the low light of Makoto's apartment, it glimmered with a thousand facets. Everyone, even Makoto, could recognize it on sight. It was more valuable than the Hope Diamond, the Millennium Star, the Black Prince's Ruby. Usagi remembered gazing at photos of it as a child, admiring its unusual shape. A black and white photo still hung on a mantel in their home. Her mother, wearing all white, cupping it between her white gloved hands.
Everyone knew what it looked like. And everyone knew the story of how it was stolen.
"How in the world," Makoto said carefully, "did you get your hands on the Silver Crystal?"