Chapter Text
Makoto opened the door to Leblanc and found herself face-to-face with her ex-girlfriend.
Haru looked beautiful as always, of course. A lavender wool sweater with a maroon skirt and understated leggings, beige leather boots completing the outfit. Makoto remembered buying the boots with Haru on the same day she had bought her favorite leather jacket. The two of them had walked out of the store with their arms locked, then nearly gotten knocked over by a gust of wind. She remembered Haru bracing herself against Makoto’s shoulder and laughing.
The memory was more vivid than Makoto liked.
“Haru,” Makoto said tightly.
“Makoto,” Haru replied, before stepping past her and towards the subway station.
Makoto bit her lip for a moment, then walked into Leblanc as nonchalantly as she could. Shake it off, Niijima. “The usual, boss.”
With Haru gone the cafe was as quiet as usual. Futaba was sitting in a booth in the corner, typing on her computer intensely. Sojiro looked up at her from behind the counter. “Makoto! Lucky to see you.”
“I was here yesterday,” she said as she grabbed a seat at the bar table and pulled her laptop out of her carrying bag.
“I was being literal,” Sojiro said as he reached for a bowl of coffee beans along the wall. “You look like a ghost.”
“I’ve been getting plenty of sunlight, mind you.”
“Not what he meant,” Futaba said dryly.
“Then—oh.” Makoto’s expression soured. “I came here to compare law school rankings, not to be berated about my love life.”
“That’s not going to stop me,” Sojiro said as he poured the beans into the siphon. “I still can’t tell why you two haven’t gotten back together now that you’ve quit the police academy.”
“It’s not that simple,” Makoto replied, her head propped against her hand as she scrolled through the University of Tokyo’s testimonial page.
“What’s not simple about it?” Futaba asked. “You’re not a bastard cop anymore, so what’s Haru have to complain about?”
Makoto turned and glared at Futaba. “Hey, watch it. And how do you suddenly know so much about relationships?”
“I’m dating Sumire, for one thing,” Futaba said with a pout.
“Alright, alright!” Sojiro said, waving both of his hands in the air. “Futaba, if you keep harassing her about it I’ll lose a paying customer. Hell knows what Akira will say if he knew I drove a former Thief out of the cafe.”
Makoto watched idly as Boss brewed the coffee and poured it into a cup. “Here you go, pure robusta with one cream and one sugar. Curry will be out in a sec. And… take it easy,” he added with a guilty look on his face.
Makoto did her best to smile. “Thanks.”
The board room of Okumura Foods was as silent as a morgue. A few men shuffled papers idly or flicked through documents on their work laptops. Haru had documents with her too, of course, but she’d already reviewed everything more times than she could count, so instead of busying her hands she looked through the large glass windows at the gloomy weather. A sky full of tattered clouds threatened the approach of rain. Haru remembered seeing Makoto at the cafe, imagined her getting soaked in the rain on the way back to the train station.
Haru allowed her eyes to glaze over briefly in the short time she had before the meeting started. As much as she didn’t like it, her mind kept drifting back to her ex-girlfriend and their encounter earlier. Makoto had finally gone with the undercut Haru had suggested a year ago. About time: it fit the lesbian biker aesthetic perfectly and would add a nice edge if Makoto ever decided it was time to wear blouses again.
The door opened silently and the chairman of the board walked in. The slender man took his seat at the head of the table. “Good day, everyone. I assume we all know what we’re here for.”
“We’re ready when you are,” Haru’s lawyer said.
“Alright then,” the chairman said, nodding to another board member as he did so.
The other board member straightened his thin tie and cleared his throat. “Secretary, note the meeting is starting at 2:45 PM JST. The topic of the meeting is the negotiation of a severance package for Ms. Haru Okumura in preparation for her relinquishing ownership of Okumura Foods.”
“Ms. Okumura confirms the intent of the meeting,” Haru said in turn, growing weary as the words left her mouth. She was used to the formalities of the board meetings, even used to the formalities being used to wear her down. But the finality of hearing those words recorded in shorthand by a secretary—that was another feeling entirely.
“Alright then,” the chairman said. “I assume that you have an initial suggestion for the severance package, Ms. Okumura.”
“I do. My lawyer will go over the relevant details,” Haru said.
Her lawyer nodded from her seat next to Haru. “To begin, let us remember that Ms. Okumura inherited a guaranteed minimum severance package when she claimed the role of CEO from her deceased father. That package entailed…”
Haru looked out the window again. The rain hadn’t started yet, but she could tell it would come, sooner or later.
Last January
Makoto pushed the door of the apartment open. It had been a gusty winter day and she was relieved to be out of the cold, even if the walk from the station to here had only been a few minutes long. Too tired to hang up her clothes neatly, she dumped her coat and gloves onto the floor, knowing Haru would probably scold her for it later.
She stretched out briefly before walking into the kitchen, where Haru was sitting quietly at the table and drinking coffee. “Evening, Makoto,” Haru said quietly. “Mail’s on the counter.”
“Thanks, Haru.” Her girlfriend seemed worn down as well, which was unusual, since Makoto knew today had been a day free from much business work on the CEO’s end. Nothing a little coffee couldn’t fix, she hoped.
Makoto didn’t need to sort through the mail to find what she was looking for—a large manila envelope with a police insignia on it. She pulled the paper out of the envelope eagerly and started reading.
A smile slowly grew across her face as she read through the letter. This was it—her acceptance letter for the Metropolitan Police Academy. “I got in, Haru!” Makoto said happily. “I actually got in!”
“Good for you, dear,” Haru said passively.
The smile faded. She realized two things at once: one, that the letter had already been opened; and two, that Haru’s weariness was emotional, not physical.
“Are you okay, Haru?”
Haru was silent.
Makoto went back over to the table and sat in the chair right next to Haru. “I know this isn’t the most exciting thing for you. I’ll be a lot busier during training and we’ll see each other less often. But once I get through things will get back to normal and—”
“I can’t date a cop, Makoto.”
Haru had turned her head away from Makoto. Her free hand was shaking slightly.
Makoto was taken aback. “I thought you were okay with this. I asked you if you were okay with this, and you said yes.”
Haru said nothing.
“Haru, we need to be able to talk about this.”
“Would you have even listened if I said anything?”
“Of course I would have. I always listen to you, Haru.”
Makoto reached out for Haru’s hand, but Haru pulled it back. “Then why couldn’t you tell how uncomfortable this made me?” Her voice was raised slightly, and she was looking Makoto with an expression mingling frustration and sorrow. “You knew how I felt about the police. You knew what they’ve done to all of us.”
“And I’m going to change those things—”
“If you think you can change a corrupt system from the inside like that, then you’re a fool!”
Makoto winced. She hadn’t heard that kind of scalding tone from Haru since their Phantom Thief days. Maybe she had been blind if she hadn’t seen this coming.
Still, a bitten dog bites back, and Makoto found herself lashing out in response to her girlfriend’s anger. “Oh, so you’re the only one who can do morally dubious things for her father’s sake?”
Haru’s shoulders slumped; Makoto’s words had stung too. But the frustration in her voice didn’t abate. “You know that’s different, Makoto. I have influence right now, and you don’t.”
“I’m sorry that I wasn’t born at the top, then.”
Now Haru was the one to flinch. \Makoto could see tears welling up in her eyes. Her posture seemed to shrink, as if she was an inch or two shorter than usual.
Makoto knew she was going to cross a line when she had said that. “Haru, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made things personal.”
Haru stood up and ignored what Makoto had just said. “I’m going to the mansion. Don’t come with me,” she said unsteadily.
“Haru…”
Even as she said her name, Makoto knew she wasn’t going to do anything to stop Haru from leaving. She watched her exit the kitchen, then heard her slowly putting on a coat, scarf, and hat from the door. Their door opened and closed without a word, only the screech of the wind running through their entryway.
Haru hadn’t even mentioned the clothes Makoto had left on the ground.
Makoto looked at the clock on the table beside her bed in Sae’s flat. 8 PM, even though Makoto felt like she had been lying here for hours. Back during college she would’ve been studying in the library or on a date with Haru right know, and during high school she’d probably have been infiltrating some Palace with the others. Early September was right after Futaba’s palace, when things had stalled for a few days after Morgana and Ryuji feuded. They’d mobilized again after Morgana ran into…
Makoto tried to pivot away from the thought by thinking about what she’d have been doing right now at the police academy, then she realized that was even more unsavory. So she pulled out her phone to check Facebook instead.
Futaba told her nobody their age used Facebook anymore, and true to her word, not much of interest showed up in her feed. A picture from Ann’s modeling page of a recent shoot, one of Yusuke’s new paintings in a series about longing, an announcement of a new location in Osaka from Okumura Foods.
Makoto paused over a picture of Zenkichi and Akane dressed in yukatas and surrounded by strings of paper cranes. Makoto checked the album title: “Summer Vacation Photos - 20XX.” That photo must have been from the Sendai Tanabata Festival this year, then. Makoto remembered spending the evening with Haru back during that chaotic mess of a summer vacation with Zenkichi. They’d kissed at the festival, grown closer as the trip went on, set up plans for moving in together afterwards…
Makoto rolled onto her side and pulled up Zenkichi in her text messages. [I hate that you were right, you know], she typed and sent.
She put her phone down and sighed. Hell knows why she just sent that—even if she thought texting someone twenty years older than her was going make her feel better, the chance of him responding in a timely fashion was next to none. It’s not like Zenkichi ever checked the Thieves group chat, for one thing.
As if on cue, Makoto’s phone vibrated immediately. She pulled it up—Zenkichi. [Right about what?] he had asked.
Makoto debated not responding to his message, but figured it would be impolite. She needed someone to rant to, anyway. [About cops being either heartless dictators or spineless dogs], she replied.
The next message took a while to come. [I take it the Metropolitan Police Academy wasn’t a good time, then.]
Makoto barked out a laugh. [That would be an understatement.]
[There’s a reason I do security for a museum now], Zenkichi responded. [Pay is worse and job is dull as hell, but at least I know I’m not fodder for some politician’s reelection scheme.]
[Makes sense.]
[Look, kid, don’t beat yourself up too hard. These aren’t easy lessons to learn.]
Makoto could almost feel Zenkichi’s hand on her shoulder. [Or maybe I’m just too stubborn], she replied.
[If you weren’t stubborn, you wouldn’t have left the academy. You’d have fallen in line like the rest of them.]
But I never would have gone, either. I would have listened to Haru. Instead...
Makoto grabbed a plastic-wrapped rice ball from the table. She’d gotten in the habit of keeping snacks in her room after realizing how hard getting up to go to the fridge had become for her. She threw the wrapping onto the ground, took a bite, and curled up in her blankets. Thank God Sae was out late tonight for a public case; she didn’t need another parental figure telling her how special she was.
A parental figure… Makoto winced.
Makoto had hoped for her father’s approval ever since she was young. When he died, she had tried to get it from anyone else she could: Sae, her teachers at school, the Phantom Thieves. After a few years of being with the Thieves, she thought she had learned to accept herself without relying on others to support her. But after breaking up with Haru and leaving the academy, the hole in her heart was as hungry as it had ever been. And knowing that her father would have been disappointed by her decision made the ache even worse.
Makoto nibbled her food again and cringed at the sweetness of the red bean paste. This was the kind of night where Makoto would’ve asked Haru to hold her. They had taken turns depending on who was hurting more, and thanks to their compatibility it always helped her calm down.
She shook her head. That bridge was burned, and if she wanted to figure out the next part of her life, she’d have to do the hard thinking herself.
But now wasn’t the time for hard thinking. She finished her snack and managed to ignore her regrets and drift off to an unsatisfactory sleep.
Haru stayed in the board room as the other executives filtered out, most of them checking their email on their tablets on their way out the door, a few of the less antagonistic ones giving her a concerned glance. She gave them the fake smile she’d become so good at over the past few months.
Finally the door swung to a close and stayed shut. Haru leaned back and stretched, her face shifting towards an uneasy expression. The meeting had gone on for hours, and the sky outside was already shifting from a red-orange to a vibrant purple.
She found herself standing up and moving towards the window. It was a beautiful view, especially this late. She found herself greedily soaking in the brilliant glimmer of the city streets, almost as if it was going to disappear.
Then she remembered that it was going to disappear. This was the last time she would ever be in this board room.
Haru had known that being a billionaire CEO was a morally fraught position. The only reason she had stayed at Okumura Foods was because she thought she could use her influence to make her workers’ lives better. She had studied workers’ movements in college, pored over research into living wages in Tokyo, and gone directly to the lowest-level employees at Big Bang Burger to ask about their needs. She had made plans to improve their compensation and their work environment, to give them more influence in the company’s decisions. To make her company a bit more ethical, day by day. To make her grandfather and father proud.
But the board had stopped all of it. Subtly at first, with condescending notes about her naivete; then firmly, with a few threats added in for good measure. The final straw had been when the board discovered her working with an aspiring union organizer at a location in Kyoto. The organizer was fired, and Haru was given an ultimatum: put profits before people, or relinquish ownership.
There was only one option she could let herself choose.
Haru exhaled as she watched the sun collapse into the horizon. From the very start, she had known that she would be fighting against the board of directors, and that it would be difficult and lonely and exhausting. And it had been all those things. Haru could feel the weight of every late night she spent poring over documents with nothing but coffee keeping her awake. She had endured it for so long because she had a cause she believed in and people that supported her. But her cause was gone, and the people she had relied on—the person she had relied on…
Haru shook her head and returned to the table to gather her things. That time in her life was ending now. Haru would be making her way through the future alone. It hurt to think, but it was true. Wasn’t it?
She stepped into the hallway and waited for an elevator to deliver her to the ground.