Chapter Text
The girl is completely out of place. There's not a single crease in her white blouse or her black skirt, her whole appearance way too immaculate for someone loitering around Shinjuku at this time of night. True to her apparent foreignness, she seems to sink deeper into her booth with every passing second spent stirring the colourful drink she ordered with a stutter—non-alcoholic, of course. Crossroads doesn't serve alcohol to people who might as well have the word "minor" tattooed on their forehead.
Lala thinks she might be a cop. Or at least a part-timer, whatever a high-schooler can get up to these days to indulge in a childish sense of justice. And if she's not here to look for dirt where Lala has made sure for years that her bar stays clean and devoid of any suspicious activity, then she's probably a stuck-up lesbian who's not sure how to go about meeting birds of her feather and figured the best way to start is a seedy queer bar in the heart of the red light district. From the way the girl is eyeing her with the greatest curiosity as Lala is smoking her cigarette behind the bar, she is sure the poor thing has never seen a woman of her kind before.
She knows this type of girl. Sheltered, spoiled, privileged. Daddy's little girl who got read good night stories about how evil the world is and how bars like this one and women like her are illegal by default and need to be extinguished from the face of the earth.
Lala debates bringing her tap water from the men's bathroom just to spite her. Then again, there's no confirmation that Miss White Blouse over there really is looking for anything suspicious.
That's why Lala busies herself with entertaining other customers after a while—she knows the other won't find whatever she's looking for.
It's when she's bidding goodnight to Ichiko and goes to clean her usual array of empty glasses that she hears someone clearing her throat. The sound is small, almost shy. Lala takes a drag of her cigarette and knows who it is before she turns around.
She almost forgot about the high schooler cop-wannabe lesbian, or whatever she is.
"We don't serve alcohol to minors," Lala says before the girl has a chance to speak up, crossing her arms.
She seems to be taken aback by that. Her eyes widen in disbelief. "Excuse me?" she asks, her voice cracking mid-way. Lala almost snorts at it.
"I saw you eyeing the bar before, Miss. Should I call your high school to pick you up?"
The girl blinks in confusion. Lala is satisfied. "I'm-I'm in college," she stutters, before she catches herself. "Wait, that's not even what I wanted to ask! I actually have a... different concern."
"You a cop?" Lala just outright asks her, not even letting her finish.
"You think I am here undercover?" she asks back, apparently finally getting the reason for Lala's hostility. "I can assure you that I'm not with the police."
Lala takes a good look at her. She sees her grow uncomfortable under her gaze. Good. While intimidating adolescents like this one normally isn't in her book, she wants it to be clear that Crossroads is far from a place deserving of groundless suspicion.
"If that's really the case, what's a young one like you doing here at this time of night?" she huffs. "Shinjuku will chew you up and spit you out if you're not careful." It only occurs to Lala then that she probably shouldn't expose her any more to secondhand smoke than she already did, so she quickly stubs out her cigarette.
The girl looks grateful at the motion. "I think a friend of mine is working here? I might have some questions about him."
Immediately, Lala's frown turns deeper. Only one person beside her is employed here and she's already reluctant about his involvement. If the kid weren't so hellbent on working here, coming in almost every week until Lala caved and talked details with him, she would have probably never gone through the trouble of additional paperwork just for some extra hands on busier nights. In the back of her mind, she suspects the boy is in it less for the generous payment and more for the chance to be in a place that lets him be himself. At least he doesn't talk back when Lala urges him out before his shift officially ends just so he can get home safely.
It figures that someone from his circle would get suspicious. Lala curses her part-timer for apparently getting vocal about his night job. Or maybe she's just bluffing because she actually is a cop. Theories, theories.
"No one's working here besides myself," she huffs. "And if you're interested, Crossroads is not currently looking." She almost adds "now scram" to the end of the sentence, but then again, she's not that mean, even when faced with an overbearing adolescent. She should probably even call a cab for her later. Coming to Shinjuku this late just for intel was not a wise move on her part.
"I know for a fact Akira works here. Would you please just answer a concern of mine?" The girl tries to stand tall, her eyes never leaving Lala's, but she can see the slight blush already forming on her cheeks. She's flustered about being here. Probably not doing this whole interrogation thing all too often.
Lala takes a moment to think about her answer. The girl has his name down. No reason to lie about that, then. "It depends on the concern."
She sighs. "Akira has been... distant, to say the least. He keeps ignoring our invitations, saying he has to work, and since he mentioned working here in the past, I wanted to inquire about his... well-being, you could say."
"Distant, huh?" Lala says. "That's the only reason you came here?"
At that, the girl finally breaks eye contact and looks away. "Probably. In any case, I'm sorry for assuming and giving such a negative impression. We are all just very worried about him."
Lala softens a little bit at those words. The kid can count himself lucky to have friends that look out for him and even visit the red light district just to try to grill his boss and find out what might be wrong with him.
"He's only working the weekends these days. I'm not making a high schooler work on weekdays," she says then to clear at least that up. "You've got guts, confronting his boss like that."
She flusters at the statement which Lala actually means as indirect praise. "Sorry…" The embarrassment on her face is not really fitting, Lala thinks. She obviously has spine, but if she folds as quickly as that…
"No need to be sorry, dear. You took my insults in stride. I wish I could actually help." Has her part-timer really been that difficult towards his friends? Lala wishes she could just brush it off as co-worker troubles outside of her bubble, but over the past few months, the kid has really grown on her. She would even go as far as to say he reminds her of herself when she was his age.
Miss White Blouse makes a sad sight, even if she tries to hide her disappointment by keeping her head up. Her eyes still don't meet Lala's. "I suppose it was worth a shot. Akira has just never been so… secretive." she sighs. "Or… I suppose I never really asked him if he needs help with anything. Or how he is."
Lala suddenly gets reminded of something Akira said just a few shifts ago. A suspicion hammers itself into her head. If she's right about it…
"I think I have a hunch," she starts, "but I can't just tell you what he trusted me with. What kind of co-worker would I be?" She laughs.
"But that's-!" the girl says, then interrupts herself and sighs. "So you do know something."
"Just a suspicion. It's nothing bad, little Miss, otherwise I wouldn't laugh about it. Try to get him to open up a bit more, will you?"
She nods slowly. Lala can practically see the question burning in her eyes: why would Akira's boss know more about his struggles than his close friends? She almost smirks. Trust Mama Lala to get people to open up.
The girl backs away from the bar. She seems displeased, but not unsatisfied. "I trust you that it's nothing to worry too much about." There's an unspoken "but" at the end of her sentence that Lala stubs out quickly.
"Good. I wouldn't entertain myself with the problems of my part-timer normally, so be glad for the information." Lies. She is glad that Akira went from saying less than five words a shift to the talkative oversharer he is nowadays. It makes it easier for Lala to be one of the few responsible adults in his life and give him advice from a much more experienced angle.
She keeps quiet for a moment, fiddling with the hems of her blouse. "Yes," she says then. "I'll… be taking my leave now. Thank you for the information."
"You want me to call you a cab?" Lala asks as she turns. "Girls shouldn't be out alone at this time of night."
She seems surprised at the offer. "Uh, no?" Her voice is back to the shy tone from before. "But thank you. I know Aikido, if it worries you less."
And in an instant, she's gone. Lala watches the door fall shut behind her. A few customers who entertained themselves with watching the scene begin to turn away and Lala too turns back to the dishes she left unattended.
Aikido, huh? Lala smiles. Yeah, that's more fitting for her than the white blouse.
Not the weirdest person her part-timer has associated himself with, but she certainly left an impression nonetheless. Lala would have to make sure to confront him the next time he worked a shift. Akira should be glad to have friends like her looking out for him.
Nevertheless, Lala doesn't think too much about it for the rest of the night, Crossroads' colourful clientele keeping her on her toes as always as she's serving drinks and food, wipes down tables and listens to the same stories she never grows tired of.
"Back again, Miss White Blouse?"
Lala puts a drink down in front of her without looking to see her reaction. She can still hear the small gasp and has to suppress a smirk. Good. This girl deserves to be thrown off guard in the nicest way once in a while.
"Please, my name is Makoto Nijima," she says all flustered, "I... don't think I ordered yet?"
"Are you going to refuse a free drink, Makoto-chan? House specialty. Non-alcoholic for the college student, my dear." Now that she's said it, Lala thinks the name suits her, even if the ridiculous clothing-inspired nickname had a certain appeal to it.
She looks even more confused at the suffix. Probably not used to it anymore now that she's actually pursuing a degree. If she doesn't like it, she doesn't comment on it, though. "Uh, thank you… may I ask your name? I don't think I've heard Akira mention it before…"
Lala thinks about making her usual grand gesture to introduce herself. But the days when Lala Escargot was a flamboyant diva in drag are long over. Nowadays she's just a flashy woman tending to a bar and its customers. She wouldn't have it any other way, though.
"Call me Lala-chan, dear. Or Mama Lala, whatever suits you," she hums.
Makoto looks clearly uncomfortable with both choices. Lala doesn't care about it. If she comes to Crossroads more often, she would soon learn that it's only Lala-chan in here. Most of her customers are like family to her. She wouldn't want any forced politeness to stand in between them.
"So, what brings you back to Crossroads, Makoto-chan?" Lala sinks down into the seat opposite from her, making it clear that she is here to pry. Is it about Akira? Did he finally come clean about what Lala suspected was the problem?
"I'm just here for a drink tonight," Makoto says, surprising her. "So, thank you for already taking care of that… Lala-san."
Lala lets the honorific slide in favour of staring critically at her. "At Crossroads, of all bars? Really? You do know the expected clientele here?" Or maybe she just went to a bar she was already sort of familiar with.
Makoto's eyes glide to the bar counter to the only two regulars here tonight: A woman dressed in a business suit and a red-faced man who's busy with something on his phone. Lala knows it won't be long before more customers arrive, ones that are way more talkative than those, so she's using the time now to slack off and interrogate her.
"Expected clientele…?" she repeats. "I thought this was just a normal bar?"
"Oh honey," Lala sighs. "Like I said, we don't do any shady stuff at Crossroads. This is a queer bar. People not familiar with the place normally only ever come because no other bar quite fits the bill."
Makoto takes a deep breath. Oh no, Lala thinks. So she was right on the money about it.
"I know." There's the confirmation. She says the words with wavering confidence, but it's confidence nonetheless. "I wanted to broaden my horizons somewhat. There's so much I don't know yet…"
Lala could ask her to specify. Could entangle her into a conversation until she learns details; details that the girl probably doesn't even know about herself yet. But she knows from her own experience how hard this topic can be to talk about during one’s youth. Especially if the girl not only looks the part, but has the tight upbringing too.
She laughs instead. "Then I take back my confusion. Make yourself right at home, darling. Feel free to grab a seat at the bar with me before they are all gone."
Makoto seems to lose a bit of her stiffness at the words. She smiles, absentmindedly stirring her drink with her straw. "Maybe I will. But I'm content to just be here now."
Lala smiles. She can already see her lose a bit of her initial apprehension. So she stands up and says: "The offer's there, honey. I wouldn't mind learning if college is still a hellish place. There's a reason I dropped out back then."
"Oh, tell me about it," Makoto sighs, not even commenting about her being a drop out, and Lala knows she got her.
For the rest of the night, she makes it her duty to entangle the girl in as much conversation as possible just to gradually observe the tension flowing out of her shoulders.
They don't really talk about the Akira situation, but Lala has a hunch that it's not resolved yet anyways.
"I suppose I should be going now," Makoto says after a while. Lala throws a look at the clock. It's certainly later than the last time she was here. She seems to have grown a bit more comfortable with the place.
"Let me call you a cab, Makoto-chan," Lala already walks over to the telephone.
Makoto tries to stop her with a wave of her hand. "The station is only a short walk from here. I'll be fine."
"If you're friends with my part-timer, I can't expect you to not secretly be a troublemaker like him too," Lala frowns as she skims the pages of the phone book for a taxi company.
It's meant to be playful, but Makoto actually sounds a bit embarrassed as she chuckles: "I can't deny that completely. I suppose I really did change once I started hanging out with him, huh…"
Oh, Lala would definitely have a word with Akira about that as soon as he shows up to his next shift.
"Now, stay just a minute longer and tell me all about that, Makoto-chan-" Lala starts, but the girl has already left the bar by the time she turns around.
Lala huffs. Maybe she underestimated her. After all, there must be a reason for her to be friends with her part-timer, of all people.
"If you're looking for an experience, you could help out a bit?"
Makoto looks up from her glass, curious. "I thought Crossroads wasn't looking?" she repeats Lala's own words from a week ago back at her.
Crossroads is indeed not looking, but Lala still couldn't get the idea out of her head. Not after Makoto came back a third time. And then a fourth. Followed by a fifth. Still not seen in anything other than a white blouse, but at least with a way more relaxed smile on her face and a position just the slightest bit more slouched.
Lala knows she came to like it here.
"Oh, don't worry, I won't make you do the cleaning. I just want you to keep my customers company and get to know this place more, yes?" It would provide her with the opportunity to, how did she put it, broaden her horizons while also taking a bit of work off Lala's shoulders. A win for both sides. Ever since Akira started declining shifts, her back pain came back full force.
She looks like she is about to refuse out of habit, but then stops herself and actually considers the idea. "I can't imagine why people would want my company, but I suppose I will trust you on this. It can't hurt to try out."
Compared to what she looked like when she first visited Crossroads, Lala can now clearly see how she's carrying herself with more ease as she navigates the booths to the bar and finds an unoccupied stool with ease.
But Lala gives her a gentle nudge into the other direction. "Ah ah, you'll be behind the counter. I'll even teach you how to make that drink you like so much, yes? And you can keep the result for free."
She hums and joins Lala at the bar. "How can I say no to that?"
After familiarising her with the basics, she introduces Maria to her. An elegant brunette woman who comes in most nights wearing her finest evening gowns and who might look shallow at first sight, but is actually very observant and can certainly hold an insightful conversation.
"My, is she a relative? Are you helping Mama Lala out tonight? Such a young thing," Maria chuckles and looks Makoto up and down. The girl seems to squirm under her watchful eyes, her mouth opening up, but nothing except a stutter coming out.
"Makoto-chan is a friend of Akira," Lala says before Makoto can answer. "Go easy on her, will you?"
Maria seems delighted at that. "Ah, he's such a charming young man. And he always listens so attentively. You seem to be similar to him, hm?"
"In what way?" Makoto then finds her voice again.
"Well, you both have this rebellious aura. I don't know how to put it. Maybe it's because your clothes are so prim and proper, but your eyes hold that look of defiance?"
Makoto pales. "You can… deduce that just from looking at me?"
"Oh no, just a wild guess," Maria laughs. "I meet many people in my line of work, you learn to sort of read into them. So you're the kind of girl who wants to rebel and let loose? Wear some ripped jeans or something, get a motorcycle license, the usual?"
"I… do admit I am in the process of getting my license."
Maria sighs fondly. "Ah, if only I were still that young…" Lala knows that now is the best time to take her leave to actually tend to the bar lest she wants to be caught in her rambling. Makoto surely won't be bored anytime soon once Maria gets into her usual stories of her job, her daily life, attractive men and attractive women.
She pats her on the shoulder before leaving. "Be good and entertain her, honey?"
Makoto nods, a bit unsure. It's enough to assure Lala that she will be okay on her own.
Time passes as quickly as usually after that. Glasses need to be refilled, tables need to be wiped down, someone spilled their drink and Lala begrudgingly has to get the mop. When she checks on Makoto, she's pleasantly surprised to find her having moved to another customer. She recognises him immediately to be Nagai. Lala loathes getting stuck in a conversation with the banker. All he ever talks about is politics and Lala is sure that most people don't want to hear her raw and honest opinions on them. But maybe Makoto could learn a bit from him.
She tries to overhear their conversation just to make sure the girl is still enjoying herself. What she doesn't expect is to hear them actually locked into a debate about economics, of all topics. Nagai sounds distressed, yet positively challenged as he tries to counter points Makoto makes. Very good points. Of course they are, she pursues a law degree after all.
Lala smirks to herself. Yeah, she definitely sees why Akira and her are close now.
When the clock strikes ten, she pulls Makoto away from the bar. "You should be getting home soon, Makoto-chan, it's late already," she frowns.
Makoto chuckles. "I now see why everyone here calls you Mama Lala. Don't worry, I'll pack up soon."
"Be quick about it, since I know you'll refuse my cab services today as well."
Nagai then excuses himself for the night too; as always punctually after emptying the third drink. He leaves a generous tip and whispers to Lala to give it to "the bright young girl", then remarks about it being chilly and him having to probably scrape ice off his car in the morning before leaving.
Lala can't even be happy about the tip as a new worry invades her mind as his words linger.
"Are you planning on only wearing that flimsy blazer home tonight?" she says with a frown as she approaches Makoto putting on the thin fabric.
"It has kept me warm until now and it's only a short walk anyways," she brushes it off.
Lala shakes her head, though. "Stay here. I'll get you something warm. Don't you dare leave, or I’ll put sriracha sauce into your drink the next time you're here.”
It's not really for occasions like these that she always has an assortment of clothing in the backrooms, but if anything, she's thankful for the new use of them now. Lala digs through the pile of clothes in the closet, noticing that her part-timer should really learn how to use coat hangers, before finding something that's just perfect for what she has planned. Before leaving, she also grabs a bit of cash.
When she returns to the front with the studded leather jacket in hand, Makoto's eyes widen. "Oh…" she says. "I really don't need a jacket…"
"I insist. And take this, you've earned it." She shoves the yen notes into her shyly outstretched hand first. Makoto is too surprised to refuse and just looks at the money in her hand.
"That's… a lot," she remarks as she's counting with her eyes. "But I didn't do anything remarkable tonight?”
"You did the same the kid does whenever he works here, so you deserve the same pay. Entertaining my customers is also work, yes? Besides, I saw you cleaning glasses when you thought I wasn't looking."
She bashfully looks to the side at that and reluctantly pockets the money. "Thank you. I'll put it to good use."
Lala smiles, pleased with herself. "Now put on the jacket. Maria guessing you right today just confirmed what I knew for a while. Take your once in a lifetime opportunity to wear a leather jacket yours truly picked out!" She shoves the piece of clothing at her next.
Makoto is more prepared to take it now. She turns it in her hands, carefully, as if she has never touched anything like this before. Lala sees her eyes getting transfixed on the wings pattern on the back. "It's nice," she says, much quieter.
"Ah, I suppose the wings may make a nice metaphor." Lala is not usually one for sentimentality, but it's too fitting to not remark on it.
Makoto nods and doesn't comment much more on it, but her eyes gleam with anticipation. She slips on the jacket. It doesn't escape Lala that her hands are shaking.
It looks right at home on her. Lala hums to herself as she looks her up and down. "I knew this was a good choice."
The girl pokes at the sleeves, a bit unsure, before rolling them up, giving the look a much more rebellious feeling. She goes to admire herself in one of the few mirrors Lala has put up around Crossroads.
Lala can see the exact moment Makoto realises how just a single piece of clothing can make a difference in perception. Her shoulders relax and she raises her chin up in a proud smile as she turns to admire the wings on the back. "How did you know this would look good on me?"
"Call it female intuition, honey."
Makoto keeps quiet. After a moment, her mouth curves into a smile, soft and thankful. "I can't wait to see my sister’s shocked face when she sees me in that."
"Then feel free to keep it, my dear." At her bewildered expression, Lala quickly adds: "And don't you think about returning it! You're free to come here anytime without a reason."
"You're so kind, Lala-chan," Makoto smiles, and the new honorific is not lost on Lala. So the ice finally melted, huh?
"Don't call me that just yet, I can be mean when I want to,” she responds with a huff.
Makoto ignores it in favour of a question: "Why do you even have this here? It… doesn't seem to be your size. My apologies."
"Oh, no need to dance around my curves. I know it doesn't fit. But I always keep an assortment of various clothes around for employees who want to crossdress."
Confusion flashes across her face. "But I thought you and Akira are the only-"
"Like I said, it's for employees who want to crossdress. Now go before you miss your train and you can't escape me calling a cab!”
She got the hint. It's the most Lala can do for their friendship without overstepping.
A quiet chuckle escapes Makoto. "I'll be sure to take care of the jacket. And… thank you. Akira works the odd weekends, right? Maybe I'll pay him a visit sometime."
And like so often, she disappears into the night before Lala can get another word out.
Lala shakes her head. That girl.
Maybe those ripped black jeans just catching dust back there would suit her too.