Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

On a day in early September, a note was found slipped under the door to Esma’s office.

Dear Esma and other various henchpeople,

From the bottom of my heart, fuck you. 

From the depths of my tortured soul, if you experience even a fraction of the torment I have endured, it could perhaps be enough to vindicate you in the eyes of a higher power, but I will not be satisfied until you suffer as I have. And in these past weeks, I have seen certain proof of how godless this reality really is.

I am not only referring to the realm of nightmares. I am also referring to our so-called “unfoilable plan” - which you carried out every step of until the last one. The very simple task, Esma and Brandi, of acting as bodyguards at the temple. The simplest task and the most crucial one, and you managed to fuck it up. I have to wonder, was this your plan all along? To let me rot away in the nightmare realm, and take over Morcucorp for yourself?

You will not succeed! For I am vengeance, I am karma, I am MORCUBUS, and though you have succeeded in weakening me, stripping away my power and scrambling my mind, I will not be defeated. I will rise again, and you will fall. My enemy always falls. I always rise again.

And do not try to find me. I have spent years crafting secret identities in case of a time like this. I hoped they would never be of use. But now they are. You have betrayed me and I have suffered torment the likes of which you could never know. I hate you all!!!!

In seething, passionate, bitter rage,

MORCUBUS

The signature and handwriting were analyzed in great detail by the Morcucorp higher-ups. Morcubus often tended to write dramatically, but this letter was not as skillfully written as usual. This, of course, could be chalked up to him having spent so much time in the nightmare realm. It certainly would have “scrambled” his brain, like he said - but apparently not so much that he wasn’t aware of it.

Another factor supporting the authenticity of the note was that Morcubus used a particular variation of his signature that he only ever used in communications with Esma. The existence of this distinction between the variations of his signature had previously been unknown to anybody but him and Esma.

It was concluded that the note was highly unlikely to be a forgery. Morcucorp filed it away and immediately began efforts to try and locate Morcubus.

Chapter Text

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

I shut off my alarm clock, hop out of bed, throw some clothes on, sling my backpack over one shoulder, grab my baseball, and head out the door, almost in one motion. I don’t bother with breakfast, or with saying goodbye to my dad - he’s probably still dead asleep this early in the morning anyways.

I dash over to the town square, where I spot Travis and Rhonda chatting with the paper boy, Luis, while waiting for the train. Oh, good, I haven’t missed the train. Sometimes I do. Either by mistake, or on purpose so I can hang out at Fort Derek instead of going to school.

The train’s not there yet, so I bounce my baseball against the statue in the town center. The three losers are talking about news and stuff, and I idly eavesdrop.

“So, who’s owning Morcucorp again, now that now that Morcubus went missing and stuff?”

“This lady named Esma,” says Luis. “Apparently she hasn’t been taking great care of it though. Morcucorp has been forced to sell most of its property.”

Even if I wanted to talk with these morons, I wouldn’t want to join this particular conversation. I’ve had some history with Morcucorp, starting with them hiring me to cause a stove fire and steal a map from Chef Gino. I didn’t know what I was doing. I just wanted the money, and it seemed like a pretty foolproof plan. Unfortunately, Agent Loser-face (AKA Agent Sam) figured out what happened. Gino hasn’t let me into his restaurant since. I was pretty devastated about that, because Gino’s pizza is the best.

Oh, and committing crimes for Morcucorp was also, you know, the wrong thing to do, and stuff. But mostly I’m sad about the pizza.

The train arrives, and I sit far away from the loser trio.

My first class that day is Simlish, with Linda. Yeah, she lets us call her by her first name. I like having her as a teacher, because she’s way too polite, and therefore really easy to talk out of giving me a bad grade. I also like her class because I get to sit next to this girl named Makoto. She’s cute, and she gets straight A’s. It must be really obvious to her that I’m a total moron. She’s also in my gym class, and she has this almost superhuman strength - unlike me, who can barely get through Roger’s classes.

Makoto talks kinda weird. But that’s okay.

Someday, I’ll ask her out.

When lunch comes around, I end up sitting with Iggy, who isn’t quite as moronic as the rest of my classmates. Then his idiot friends Rhonda, Sapphire, and Liberty sit down.

“You know, I really miss last year’s graduating class,” says Iggy.

“Yeah! I miss Summer so much!” Liberty wails. “She was, like, my best friend. Not that I don’t love you, Rhonda,” she adds.

“Well, look on the bright side. Now that Summer’s too distracted by the hot guys at the boardwalk, you have one less person to compete for Travis with.” Rhonda shrugs.

“Shh!” Liberty looks around frantically to see if anyone heard, even though it’s pretty much common knowledge that she, plus literally every single other girl in the school, has a crush on Travis.

“And Chaz - that dude was cool,” says Iggy.

Yeah, to you maybe, I think to myself. Not to me, or any of the ten thousand other people he bullied.

“Do you remember that guy who was like a furry, but a frog?” says Sapphire. “I think I was a freshman when he graduated.”

“Furry? Nah, he wasn’t just dressing up,” Iggy snorts. “I think he actually believed he was a frog.”

“Oh, I remember him! Yeah, that was wild,” says Liberty. “I mean, I’m all for weird fashion choices, but coming to school every day dressed as a frog is a bit excessive.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” says Iggy. “I think he even wore his frog suit to his graduation.”

“I really hate that the dress code allows frog suits but not crop tops,” Sapphire says.

“And hats,” I grumble, dearly missing my snapback, which is sitting in my backpack for me to put on the second the last bell rings.

After a boring afternoon of classes, I go outside and find that the train is running late. I escape from the throng of students to go lean against one of the school walls while I wait.

I’m right near the corner of the building, and I can just barely make out voices coming from around the corner. I inch closer out of curiosity.

“So, how’s your new job?” a voice says. Is that Liberty?

“Pretty good. But there is one thing that happened that struck me as very odd…” this is a woman’s voice that I don’t recognize.

“What is it?”

“Oh. Damnit. If I told you that would be a breach of patient confidentiality.”

“I mean, you can tell me. You know I won’t tell anyone.”

“You wouldn’t even tell the S.P.A., if it came down to it?”

“Eliza, you know I’m only a recruit for the S.P.A. because Travis is. And anyway, you’re not just my cousin, you’re my friend, and friendship is more important than any other duty.”

I almost choke on absolutely nothing, Liberty is being so sappy.

“Okay… well, this woman is seeing me because she has recurring nightmares. She doesn’t believe they’re real or anything. But then, there’s also a man who started seeing me because of recurring nightmares, and the nightmares that he describes are incredibly similar to the ones that the woman describes, and they both cite early summer as the time when the nightmares started… so I can only conclude that maybe they were present for the same traumatic event, but I have no idea what that event could possibly have been, because the redhead woman is extremely reluctant to talk about it, while the man, on the other hand, seems to be experiencing some sort of psychosis in relation to it, so I can’t take anything he says as truth… he says he used to be a CEO, but then he went into another dimension, and he thinks that the source of the nightmares is some crown that he keeps talking about… but for some reason he wants to find the - ” the voice abruptly stops. “Oh gosh, sorry, I should not have told you all that. I have no idea what got into me.”

“Huh. That’s really strange,” says Liberty.

“I know, right? Usually I filter my thoughts more before speaking. Maybe it’s because I”m a professional therapist now, and I have to be constantly listening to other people, and that was my brain’s way of - ”

“No, I mean two people having similar nightmares. It’s weird.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a moment of silence. Then Liberty says, “hey, are you busy on Friday night?”

“No, why?”

“I’m hanging out with some friends on the beach who have graduated, wanna come?”

“I don’t know… I never really got along with your friends…”

“Come on, it’ll be fun. You need to loosen up a bit, you’ve been stressed about your job, I can tell.”

“Hmm. maybe you’re right. Perhaps socializing in a fun setting will improve my performance with my work.”

These two idiots are kind of getting on my nerves. So I start bouncing my baseball, and ‘accidentally’ let it go at such a trajectory that it bounces off of a wall and in the direction of the voices.

There’s a pair of yelps, and then Liberty emerges from around the corner. “Hey! That could’ve hit us!”

“Sorry,” I smirk, going over to pick up the baseball. The train finally pulls in, and I dash over to it, leaving the two idiot-faces behind.

But geez, that was a weird conversation. What with Eliza and her two psycho clients. That dude who thinks his nightmares come from… what was it? A crown?

I really can be dumb sometimes. Or maybe I was just trying to block the whole Morcucorp fiasco out of my memory. Either way, it’s not until I’m walking through the town square when I finally realize it.

An ex-CEO. A crown. Nightmares from a crown.

The Nightmare Crown.

Morcubus.

Chapter Text

I don’t know much about the nightmare crown. I just heard someone mention it. I was in contact with Morcucorp because they had hired me to steal some maps from Chef Gino, and then one day I was told to attend a meeting in the park forest with some of the morcucorp goons. They gave this book to some dude who I only later realized was the mayor of the city, and told him to hold onto it temporarily. They let me hold onto some dumb jewelry that they’d gotten from wherever they’d stolen the book from.

After the meeting, I didn’t go home just yet. I went to grab my backpack from where I had stashed it at Fort Derek, which is even deeper in the forest. On my way back, I went past the meeting area again. There were only two people left, and they were talking to each other. My curiosity overtook me and I crept closer to try and hear what they were saying.

“...and then they hid the crown of nightmares. Morcubus is trying to find it. That’s what this whole thing is about”

“But why does he want the nightmare crown? What’s he gonna do with it?”

“I don’t know. But we probably shouldn’t be talking about this here.”

That was all I heard before the two people stood up and I had to get out of there before they saw me.

The next morning, I gave the jewels to Poppy and her dog buried it in the woods. I have no use for jewelry. But apparently I was supposed to hold onto it for Morcucorp so they could sell it. The jewelry wasn’t even expensive-looking, so I have no idea why they would care about it. Maybe it was more about my loyalty than the jewels themselves. In any case, Brandi gave me a black eye for that one. I just let my hair fall in front of my face for a while so my dad wouldn’t notice.

Then Morcucorp was having me steal people’s mail and give them anything relevant or suspicious. I was really feeling good about myself - I mean, Esma never really talked to me, but Brandi did, and she didn’t give me black eyes anymore. And it’s not like I have friends at school. Just some people who I’m willing to put up with and who are willing to put up with me. For the first time in my life, I felt like I was part of something. Sure, Agent Sam was always snooping around in our plans, but we were smarter than a thickheaded agent and her idiot assistant.

But then, all of a sudden, I was told my work wasn’t needed anymore. I thought they were just referring to the letters, and awaited further instructions. But I waited for days, then weeks, and nothing happened.

I eventually found a way to contact Brandi, to ask her what was going on. But all she said was, “Look, kid, we’re done with you. Morcubus is on the right track to getting what he wants. We don’t need you anymore.”

Just like that, it was over. Morcucorp was just using me because I was young and naive and willing to do what they asked.

So, basically, I gave up my Gino’s Pizzeria privileges for nothing! Sure, I got some money, but what really made me happy was the sense of belonging I gained. Which, as it turns out, wasn’t even real.

Okay, now I’m starting to sound cheesy.

The point is, even though I don’t like Agent Moron-Face, I like Morcubus even less. So when I realize, walking home from the train station, that Eliza’s client must be Morcubus, I decide I have to turn him in. Even if that means turning him in to a moron-face.

That evening, I’m trying to write an essay that’s due the next day, and I can’t focus. Thinking about Morcubus and Agent Sam has brought up in my mind how much I hate both of them, and how I was betrayed by the members of Morcucorp, so that’s probably what’s distracting me.

I need a break. And maybe a beverage. I get up from my desk and head out the door of the apartment, then downstairs and outside. By the dim light of streetlamps I walk past the town square, past Gino’s, past the park, and past the old run-down gas station. Just past the gas station there’s an outdoor vending machine. As I’m getting coins out of my pocket, I hear a voice behind me. “Dude. Hurry up already.”

I whirl around. It’s very dark out, but I can still make out the shape of a person standing with arms crossed, and the slightly illuminated purple streaks in their hair.

“...Brandi?”

Brandi’s eyes grow wide, and her arms come uncrossed. “Derek?”

“Did - did Morcucorp ditch you, too?” I ask, trying to come up with some reason why I would run into her right here, right now.

Brandi regains her composure, and crosses her arms again. “What? No. Of course not. I’m just getting a Red Buddy. And you’re in my way.”

I move aside, and Brandi goes up to the vending machine to put her own coins in. she probably thinks I’m going to just leave her alone now. But I can’t this is the first time I’ve seen her, or anyone from Morcucorp, since they left me behind, and I need answers. So I just stand there with my hands in my pockets while she waits for her energy drink. The beverage falls into the bottom of the machine, and Brandi grabs it then starts walking away.

“Wait!” I shout after her.

She turns around. “What do you want?”

I hesitate. I’m not even sure what I’m trying to say. I just need to say something that will start a conversation. “...How’s Yuki?”

Brandi sighs. “Dude. We just needed you for a few jobs. You’re not a part of Morcucorp, and you never were. Stop pretending like you are.”

“Well… well you made me think I was!” I shout. I’m losing my temper. I can feel all that pent up anger slowly coming loose.

“You’re overreacting.”

“No, I’m not! I thought I was finally… I thought I had… I… I… I thought of you like family!”

“Is that what you think Morcucorp is? Some big happy family? It’s a business, kid. A dangerous business that’s doing worse than ever now. Morcubus may be back from the nightmare realm but we don’t know where he is, or what his secret identity is, anything about the nightmare crown, the project we’ve dedicated our lives to, we’re even farther back than where we started and we need all the help we can - ” Brandi stops. She seems to have had a realization. I somehow manage to stay calm and be silent while she thinks.

“Actually - you know what. Here, give me your phone.”

I hand it over, too confused to do anything else. She adds her phone number as a contact and hands it back to me. “There. If you see any sign of where Morcubus is, contact me. Okay? Don’t contact me for anything else.”

That’s when I understand what’s going on. “So you leave me out to dry and then expect me to just agree to help you again?” I rage.

“Look, it wasn’t my idea to do that. I think you can still be a big help to - ”

“You’re just trying to scavenge up all the help you can get now that Morcucorp is in ruins! And you know what? You’re not gonna get it from me!” I grab my phone out of her hand.

“I can pay you,” Brandi suggests. “Not a lot, but - ”

“You are NOT gonna use me again!” I whirl around and start running back toward home, completely forgetting about the vending machine.

I hear faintly from behind me, “Oh, god… Brandi, you’re an idiot.”

Chapter Text

The next day, I’m sitting in a waiting room chair, nervously tapping my foot. The events of the night before have only solidified my resolve to turn Morcubus in, so here I am at Agent Sam’s headquarters, a place I never thought I would willingly go except maybe to egg it or something. I want to say I feel confident, but I don’t. My voice was shaking when I called to make the appointment. No, I’m not scared of Agent Sam. I’m scared Agent Sam will try to catch Morcubus, screw up, and then let Morcubus know I was the one who snitched.

“Derek Lovelace-Vogue. Agent Sam will see you now,” comes the monotone voice of the girl at the desk. She doesn’t even look away from the computer screen that she’s rapidly typing away at. I stand up and head to the room I assume I’m supposed to go to. As I pass by the desk, i glance at the girl. She’s wearing a t-shirt from some TV show called Starcruiser X. What a geek. She’d be cute if she wasn’t such a geek.

Agent Sam is sitting at a large desk in a room full of books and computers. She stands up as I enter.

“Derek. It’s nice to see you.”

Yeah, right.

She reaches to shake my hand, but I don’t accept it. Instead I just get straight to the point.

“I know where Morcubus is.”

Agent Sam stops, her hand in midair for a second before she pulls it back.

“Derek,” she says sternly, “If this is a joke - ”

“It’s not! I swear!”

Agent Sam sits down in her chair, and motions for me to do the same, so I do.

“Where is he, then?” she asks.

So I tell her about how I overheard Eliza talking to Liberty about the client that must have been Morcubus. Once I finish, Agent Sam gets up, exits the room, and is back in a moment with a tall woman with red hair. I’ve seen this woman around. She doesn’t follow Agent Sam around as much as the weird blond guy does, but when she does tag along she and Agent Sam are basically inseparable.

“Evelyn,” Agent Sam says to the red-haired woman, “Your therapist is a young woman named Eliza, correct?”

“Yes,” says Evelyn.

“Well, then I think Derek has just found Morcubus,” says Amanda.

Evelyn looks at me in disbelief. “Derek is helping us?” she says. I roll my eyes and repeat the story.

“You mean to tell me,” Evelyn says, “that my therapist has been violating the privacy of her patients, including myself?”

“I mean, yeah. But I wouldn’t be here telling you where Morcubus was if she wasn’t so I guess you could say it’s a good thing.”

“And to an S.P.A. recruit, no less,” Evelyn continues, looking troubled. “Who then proceeded to not report it, or even dissuade her from the behavior…”

Agent Sam leans on her desk thoughtfully. “Morcubus’ name and face are known everywhere. Wouldn’t Eliza have recognized him?”

I suddenly remember something that Brandi told me last night. “I think he has a secret identity. Someone - someone from Morcucorp - once told me he did. But they… they don’t know what it is, I think?”

Agent Sam nods slowly. “That would make sense. I hadn’t really considered that he would have a secret identity - he generally likes everyone to know what he’s doing for the fame factor, good or bad - but he’s also smart enough to predict that he might one day be on the run from the law. A secret identity makes a lot of sense.” Agent Sam begins frantically scribbling in a notebook. Evelyn, probably sensing she isn’t needed anymore, quietly leaves the room.

Agent Sam finishes writing whatever she’s writing, and then looks up. “Thank you for letting us know all of this, Derek. Unless you have anything else to report, you are dismissed." She gets up and heads toward a large set of computer screens on the other end of the room.

“Wait, what’s gonna happen now?”

“Well, I’ve gotta contact this therapist’s office and confirm the information you’ve given me,” she says, turning back around to look at me. “And find out the time of this man’s appointment. Then we’ll stake it out.”

“I can help, right?”

Agent Sam shakes her head, laughing a little. “Sorry, Derek.”

“But I’m the one who found this out, don’t I have a right to - ”

“We’re very grateful to you,” Agent Sam interrupts. “Seriously. This is valuable information. But leave the field work to the professionals, alright, kid?”

I hate being called kid. Especially by Agent Sam.

But I don’t argue any longer. I should have guessed that Agent Loser wasn’t gonna let me be in on it. I grumpily get up and head toward the door, not bothering to push in my chair. My hand hovers in front of the doorknob, but then I turn around one more time.

“You’ll keep this anonymous, right?”

“It won’t go outside the agency if you don’t want it to,” says Agent Sam. “But the fact that you reported this can be known by anyone inside the agency who is involved with the case.”

That could be a lot of people. Especially since the S.P.A. tends to recruit people basically off the street. What if one of them is a blabbermouth, and tells someone else, who tells Morcucorp?

“So it can’t be anonymous?” I say frantically. “There’s no… there’s gotta be some kind of policy…”

“Generally, when people want to remain completely anonymous, they send an anonymous tip rather than coming in person,” Agent Sam says dryly.

Shit. I shoulda thought of that.

Yeah, that one’s on me.

But I’m still mad about Agent Sam refusing to involve me in any way, so I still slam the door just a little bit on the way out.

There’s no one in the hallway, and it’s silent aside from the still-frantic typing of the girl behind the desk around the corner. Damn, she’s busy. There’s a lab across the hall with large windows, but there’s nobody in it. So I decide to press my ear against the door to the office and listen in on what Agent Sam’s doing.

At first, nothing. Then, a very faint phone ring. Then, talking. I can’t hear very much through the door, but I can just barely make out a good quantity of Agent Sam’s words, if I concentrate. She’s talking about therapists, and Morcubus. And then I hear, “…appointment is on…” a few words I couldn’t make out “...a week from now, at 1pm?”

I hear footsteps coming down the hall. Thankfully, I have all the information I need. I may have missed the exact date, but today is Wednesday, which means that the stakeout should happen next Wednesday at 1. I hurry back to the lobby, passing by a woman in a labcoat, and then head out the door.

Chapter Text

I wake up the next morning still sore from Agent Sam not letting me take part in the stakeout. I consider ditching school and going to Fort Derek to blow off some steam, but then I decide that I’m not quite upset enough to warrant that. If you miss too many days in one semester, they tell your parents, so I try to be at least somewhat conservative with my skip days. I reluctantly make my way to the town square.

Travis and Rhonda are laughing about something, but abruptly stop once I arrive. Travis whispers something to Rhonda, and then they both just stare at me.

“Is there a problem ?” I ask, a little more forceful than intended.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” says Travis.

“Keep your nose out of other people’s business, that’s my motto,” says Rhonda.

Weird. They're not usually THIS rude.

In Simlish, I sit next to Makoto, as usual. She’s busy checking her phone. At the end of class, she takes out her phone again, and then turns to me as I’m packing up.

“Derek,” she says, “I presume you are aware of the rumors regarding you. Query: are they accurate?”

“What? What rumors?”

“Travis has informed me that you caused Liberty’s cousin Eliza’s employment to be terminated.” Makoto answers matter-of-factly.

My heart drops. So that’s what this is all about.

On top of that, why is Makoto on texting terms with Travis? God, she probably hates me. I swing my backpack onto my back and promptly leave the room without acknowledging her any further.

By lunchtime, it seems the news has somewhat spread around. I sit alone at a table, and nobody sits with me. By the end of the day it seems the whole school knows. I notice people whispering when they see me, and awkwardly avoiding me. I give them all dirty looks. I trip over someone’s foot in the hallway, falling hard on the linoleum, and they just keep walking. As I’m packing up, I find a note in my locker telling me how much of an asshole I am. I crumple it up and toss it in the trash as I’m exiting the building. Once again, Liberty is standing a little ways away outside the school with some friends. She gives me a death glare, and I return it.

Liberty. She must have been the one to start telling people. It was her cousin, after all. But how did she know it was me?

That’s when I remember. Liberty volunteers for the S.P.A., and so does Travis. Agent Sam said to me, “the fact that you reported this can be known by anyone inside the agency who is involved with the case.” Liberty is both in the agency and directly involved with the case. Even if she hadn’t been told personally, she has enough of a social network within the S.P.A. recruits that she would have easily been privy to the information that I had reported her cousin.

Once I get back to Main Street, I make a beeline for Fort Derek. I’m starting to feel very, very angry. A similar anger to when I found out Morcucorp was ditching me. A scary anger.

I hadn’t even been trying to fire Liberty’s cousin. I don’t give a shit whether some random therapist talks about her patients a bit carelessly. To be honest, I didn’t even know it was a strict rule that you weren’t supposed to do that. I was just trying to report to Agent Sam about the nightmare crown. And Agent Sam had to go and tell her volunteer agents ?

God. There’s no good or bad side, is there? No, even when you try to do the right thing, you get fucked over. Why did I think I could trust Amanda? I can’t trust anybody. I should have learned this a long time ago. I’m so fucking stupid.

See, that’s the scary thing about this kind of anger. The more I think about it, the more it feels like it’s not Agent Sam, or Morcubus, or Liberty that I hate. It’s myself.

The forest soothes me though. I get to Fort Derek and blast some music. I find some branches to break. The ones I can’t break, even by jumping on them, I just kinda smash with my hammer. Which isn’t very effective for breaking the branches, but I’m really just trying to get anger out. The sturdier the branch, the longer I can pretend it’s the face of someone I’m mad at. Once I’m sweaty and my arms are tired I lay down and stare at the afternoon light dwindling through the leaves.

Thank god for Fort Derek. My dad’s house is tiny and messy – and, you know, has my dad in it. My aunt Shirley says I’m always welcome at her place, but I don’t need her pity. My little sanctuary hidden in the depths of the forest is the only place I can really be alone.

As I’m lying there, I remember something. I take out my phone, open up my contacts. Sure enough, Brandi is there. I’d entirely forgotten that she gave me her number.

My finger hovers over the call button. What if I did it? Helped Morcucorp? At this point, I don’t like Morcucorp any more than I like Agent Sam and the S.P.A., but I just gave Agent Sam  valuable information, and got thanked by having her betray me. It’s only fair that I betray her, right?

Brandi picks up. “What do you want?”

“It’s Derek.” Brandi is silent. I take a deep breath. “I know where Morcubus is.”

Chapter Text

I've become numb to it all. The whispers and looks don't even get to me. I'm going to school instead of skipping, because why not? Yeah, nobody talks to me, but it's not like it was much better before.

Morcucorp left me a token of their thanks. A little box with a note taped to it that I found in Fort Derek. Of course they know where Fort Derek is. I'm not even surprised at this point. I haven't even looked at what's in the box. I stuffed it in my backpack and forgot about it.

Okay, I lied when I said nobody talks to me at school. There is still one person who tolerates me.

Makoto.

"You did not respond to my query yesterday," She said to me Friday morning after Simlish ended.

"What'd you ask me yesterday?" I said, stuffing some books in my backpack and not looking at her.

"I inquired as to whether the rumors about you are accurate. I am aware that data can lose accuracy during transmission from person to person."

I didn't answer, slowly zipping up my backpack.

"I am referencing the rumor that asserts that you caused Liberty's cousin Eliza –"

"Yes, it's true, okay? I told the S.P.A. that Eliza was freely sharing information about her patients. I didn't know she was gonna get fired. I wasn't even trying to report her for that. I was telling Agent Sam about a totally unrelated thing. I don't give a shit about Liberty's stupid cousin's business practices."

I told myself that Makoto probably hated me already, and it was inevitable that she found out the rumors were true.

But Makoto didn't seem to be judging me. She just nodded.

"It is unfortunate that your story got modified through transmission," She said.

I looked at her. "What, so you don't hate me for it, like everyone else does?"

Makoto looked around. The classroom was nearly empty by this point. "Your actions seem logical, and advantageous to the greater good. However, I have not been communicating this observation to everyone, because my analysis shows that doing so may be detrimental to my social status. I hypothesize that this is the analysis of many other students as well."

A pit of guilt began to form in my gut. I tried to shrug it off by grumbling, "The S.P.A.'s no better than Morcucorp anyways."

Makoto tilted her head. "Query: are you just using Morcucorp as a comparison or are you implying that the event involved them?"

I sighed. "Yeah, it sort of did – plus I've had some personal experiences with them in the past, and not good ones either – I don't really know why I said that, sorry," I got up and swung my backpack onto my back, intending to get out of there before I babbled any longer.

Makoto got up with me. "I have also had personal experience with Morcucorp."

I looked at her. "Really? What kind?"

"They gave me a request to do a task for them, and I accepted the request because I did not realize that the task was for the benefit of Morcucorp's nefarious plans."

Shit. That stopped me in my tracks. Not only was there another person in the same boat as me – that is, who had been manipulated by Morcucorp – but that person was Makoto, the girl I'd had a crush on for the past year. All my shyness suddenly left me.

"...do you wanna grab lunch sometime?" I asked. "'Cause, I mean, I was basically cheated by Morcucorp too. And I've never met anyone else who that happened to..."

"Yes, but not today. I have promised my friends I would sit with them in the cafeteria during today's lunch period. It would also likely be detrimental to my social standing if my friends observed me interacting with you at this particular time. I am especially cautious at the moment, since I am hoping Travis will ask me to the homecoming dance."

My heart dropped. Friendzoned instantly. And for Travis, the school heartthrob. Actually, not even friendzoned, since she didn't want to be seen with me. More like Acquaintancezoned. But that didn't stop me from wanting to talk to her.

"Okay, this weekend then. Tomorrow?"

"Yes. Location: Gino's Pizzeria, time: 12:00pm?"

"Uh... no, Gino's isn't gonna work, because... well, I'll explain tomorrow. How about Cedella's?"

"Event scheduled for 12:00, Saturday, September 19th, at Cedella's restaurant."

"Yeah. Event scheduled. Cool." With that we exited the classroom – which was, at this point, fully empty – to rush to our next classes.

The rest of the day passed similarly to the previous one: nobody interacting with me except to throw the occasional mean glance or snide comment.

Oh, except for at the end of the day when I opened up my locker and found an actual living SNAKE crawling on my math textbook. Or slithering, or whatever snakes do. I don’t fucking know. I screamed loud enough the whole school probably heard, and then threw a book at it. I didn’t hit it. The thing just kinda slipped out of my locker and into the hallway. It’s probably still somewhere in the school now. Or maybe someone caught it and put it outside. I don’t know. I didn’t stick around to see. I slammed my locker shut and left as fast as I could.

Liberty’s doing, obviously. Even if she weren’t the main person mad at me right now, she’s the only one in the school who likes to get cuddly with creatures that don’t even have limbs.

Yeah, I’m relieved for it to be the weekend.

❉      ❉      ❉

I order my coffee black at Cedella’s. Don’t want Makoto to think I’m a wimp.

We sit at a table far from the others, near a stupid abstract painting and some plants. We sit in silence for a moment. We were both so eager to meet up, but now it’s hard to tell where to start.

“So,” I say finally, “how did YOU get involved with Morcucorp?”

“Well, I reside in the industrial district with my father, Dr. F.”

I nod. I’ve heard of Dr. F. I had no idea he was Makoto’s father.

“I befriended two members of Morcucorp who were planting trees in the industrial district as part of their city beautification project. However, this task was only a disguise for their main objective…”

Makoto tells me about how Morcucorp was trying to take ownership of DJ Candy’s radio towers by claiming that the towers were killing the plants. She uses some technical jargon but I can basically follow what she’s saying.

“However, none of this data was communicated to me. The request that I was given was to obtain my fathers Foliage Fusion Drive and install it on the rooftops near the radio towers.”

“Foliage…?”

“Foliage Fusion Drive. An apparatus my father invented for the purpose of plant degradation. Brandi and Esma had achieved with me the status of friends, and my research has shown that an important element of friendship is performing tasks at one another’s request. Brandi and Esma requested that I perform this task for them and not communicate about it to anybody. Of course, now that they are no longer at friend status, the agreement is null, which is why I am able to communicate about it to you.”

So Makoto knew Brandi too? And Esma? I never knew Esma that well. I did meet her, but she always acted like I was too far below her to even give me the time of day. It’s weird to think that she tricked Makoto into considering her a friend.

At this point, our numbers are called to pick up our orders from the counter. When we get back to the table – me with a sandwich and black coffee, Makoto with a salad and some fancy looking latte or something – I resume the conversation.

“So, what, you just did what they told you to, no questions asked?” I say.

“Yes. Once again, it is my understanding that performing tasks at one another’s request is one of the necessary conditions for friendship. Brandi and Esma were unwilling to maintain all of the necessary conditions for friendship, but I did not know this at the time.”

I sigh. “Yeah, guess I can’t blame you for that. I also used to trust Brandi.” I take a sip of coffee. It’s bitter as hell.

Makoto tilts her head. “Is the beverage that you received different from the one that you requested?”

“Huh? No, why would you think that?”

“Apologies. You were exhibiting a facial expression that is usually associated with disgust, and it is unexpected for someone to request a beverage that causes them disgust.”

I can’t help but smile a bit. A lot of people think Makoto talks weird. And they’re not wrong. But there’s something endearing about it.

“Nah, it tastes great,” I lie. “How’s yours?”

She takes a sip. “According to my analysis, it is the most popular type of coffee beverage for my demographic. I detect that it is sweeter than most of its alternatives.”

“Yeah, but do YOU like it?” I ask.

“Inconsequential. I have no preference.”

I sit back and cross my arms. “There’s a lot of things you do just because other people do, aren’t there? Like, a surprising amount.”

“Everyone does,” says Makoto. “It is an essential component of being a high school aged student.”

Yeah, I guess I can’t argue with that. Especially with my black coffee sitting in front of me, getting cold because I ordered it even though I hate the flavor. I take another bitter sip, then Makoto asks me about my own involvement with Morcucorp.

I talk about the various little tasks i did for them, and how it made me feel like I was a part of something for once. Saying it out loud makes it sound ridiculous now. I’m telling Makoto how accepted I felt right after telling her about Brandi giving me a black eye. But Makoto doesn’t seem judgemental. She just listens.

“...Then they suddenly told me they didn’t need me anymore. And it was just over. I haven’t talked to them since.” I stop myself. “Well. Until recently.”

“You communicated with Morcucorp recently?”

“Well, yes, I…” the guilt comes back. “Well, first I ran into Brandi by chance. She gave me her number and told me to contact her if I find out anything about Morcubus’ whereabouts. I wasn’t gonna, but then… after I reported to Agent Sam, and she refused to keep my identity secret, and the information got to Liberty…”

“Because Liberty volunteers for the S.P.A.”

“Yeah, I don’t even know what I was thinking, trying to reason with Agent Sam. She literally hates me. So then I kind of spied on her and found out she planned a stakeout for next Wednesday. And I kind of went and told Brandi about it. I don’t even know why. Revenge, I guess.”

God, I’m being more honest with her than I even am with myself. It’s something about her lack of judgment against me, her ability to just logically look at the facts. People try to get through to me by being sentimental, my aunt Shirley a repeat offender. It never works. And yet here is Makoto, the girl who acts like a robot, somehow getting me to tell her everything.

Makoto nods thoughtfully. “I have never had a negative experience with the S.P.A., but given your experience, I understand how the influence of emotions might lead you to do such a thing, especially given your prior relationship with Morcucorp. I cannot speak for your situation, but I recall Brandi and Esma putting great effort into gaining my trust, and I hypothesize that there is a reason why they tend to target individuals who do not have another social support system.”

I look at her, incredulous. “Dude, you’re like, really popular. I’d say you have a social support system.”

“I was not popular back then. I was not yet imitating the behavior of my peers, because I had not had sufficient time to observe them. Additionally, very few of my peers reside in the Industrial District. My father’s objective was to let me become acclimated to the world by experiencing it myself, so he was not a source of assistance either. Brandi and Esma utilized by naivety and solitude to gain my trust.” Makoto tilted her head. “I did not mean to presume that your social situation is the same as mine. I have simply observed that you have few friends at school.”

“No, no, I totally get it.” My situation wasn’t exactly the same, but even so, I was feeling more understood than I had… ever, really. “I didn’t know anything either. I had no friends. My dad doesn’t give a shit. My mom is… not in the picture either. I have a couple of aunts, but one barely knows I exist, and the other is well-meaning but kinda stupid… so when I met Brandi, I was in the perfect situation for Morcucorp to just… use me. But that’s their strategy, I guess. Pick on the loners. And it works.” The guilt is piling up higher. “It still worked two days ago. Even though I swore I would never talk to them again.”

“Well,” says Makoto, after a pause, “Wednesday begins in approximately 3.47 days. By my estimation, it is not too late to salvage the situation.”

“How, by talking to Agent Sam? After I spied on her and betrayed her to Morcucorp? There’s no way I can do that. She wouldn’t even trust me.”

“I agree with that assertion… However, there is another solution. We could secretly attend the stakeout.”

“And do what?”

“We could provide a distraction. And if there is a conflict, I am sure I could be of use. I can lift over 2,000 kilograms of mass.” Makoto grins and flexes her arm. I have no idea how much 2,000 kilograms is, but it sounds like a lot.

“...Okay,” I say, after a short hesitation. As risky as this sounds, I know that if I don’t do this, I will be letting Morcucorp win. Not just against the S.P.A., but against me. If I don’t rectify this, I will have lost to Morcucorp’s strategy of targeting loners and gaining their trust. I don’t think I even fully realized before today that that was their strategy, and that it was so insidious. But after talking with Makoto, and realizing that I’m not alone… all my anger at Morcucorp is returning, but in a clearer, more focused form.

And I think maybe, with Makoto’s help, I can escape from their influence once and for all.

Chapter Text

I’m waiting for Makoto at the bottom of the east stairwell of the school. The lady at the front desk always questions kids if they try and leave through the front doors in the middle of the day, I guess to prevent them ditching school. The door at the bottom of the east stairwell isn’t alarmed, so I always use it when I want to sneak off.

I hear footsteps from the stairs above, and soon Makoto emerges.

“I apologize for not being punctual,” she says. “I was eating lunch with my friends, and social conventions had a longer runtime than anticipated.”

I glance at my phone. It’s one minute past the time I told her to meet me.

“12:21? Oh no, we might miss the train,” I joke.

Makoto makes a worried expression, then drops it. “Oh. Sarcasm, yes?”

“Yeah. the train’s not leaving till 12:30.” I open the door, and hold it for Makoto. We’re now by the dumpsters beside the school.

“Apologies. Identifying sarcasm is a language skill I am not yet fully proficient in.”

“Really?”

“It is one of many. As I am sure you have observed.”

I pause and think for a moment as we start to walk. “How’d you even get in with the popular girls, with how you talk and stuff?” I realize too late that this is probably a rude question to ask.

Miraculously, Makoto doesn’t seem offended at all. “I have obtained a sufficiently large quantity of data about their interests and conversation patterns to be able to replicate their behavior with a high enough accuracy that they are able to overlook some of my shortcomings.” she explains with a shrug.

“I don’t feel like they’re shortcomings,” I say, picking up my pace a little. Geez, Makoto walks fast. “I mean, if your goal is to be popular I guess they’re not ideal, but… I don’t know. I like the way you talk.” Why am I saying this? “There’s nothing wrong with it. I mean, the sarcasm thing sounds like it kinda sucks, but I think people could definitely be more clear about when they’re being sarcastic. I don’t know. The way you talk is, like, a part of who you are. I think it’s cute.” What the fuck am I saying? I gotta stop babbling like this.

“That is a sound argument.” Makoto doesn’t sound convinced, but I think I catch a smile.

We board the train and ride in a somewhat awkward silence to the industrial district.

❉      ❉      ❉

Makoto and I realized, while we were formulating our plan on Saturday, that we had no idea where Eliza’s office was. Thankfully, Makoto managed to cunningly extract that information from Liberty by getting in a conversation with her about the event. The office is on the outskirts of the Industrial District, in a surprisingly nice-looking building behind a small parking lot. Large shrubs stand here and there – an unusual sight in the Industrial district. We find a shrub to sit behind and wait.

This is even more silent and awkward than the train ride. It’s somewhat close quarters, and we don’t dare make much conversation. We just squat behind the shrub, silent, knees a few inches apart.

Soon enough, a familiar black van with an unmistakable insignia pulls into the parking lot. I look at Makoto, and she gives a small nod. She recognizes it too. Squinting through the leaves, I try to make out Brandi’s signature pigtails, or Esma’s ever-present strange fashion choice (her rabbit ears – or are they polar bear ears?) but of course I can’t see through the van’s darkened windows.

Not long after that, another vehicle pulls in and parks on the other side of the parking lot. Makoto bumps my knee with hers. “That’s the S.P.A.,” she whispers.

Several more minutes of waiting. I start getting nervous. We aren’t even entirely sure what Morcucorp and the S.P.A. will do, so it was difficult for us to formulate a definitive plan. There is lots of room for failure.

I pick up the sound of Makoto’s breathing beside me, and I try to match it. The rhythm of her breathing is unbelievably steady. I start calming down a bit.

And then Morcubus shows up.

At least, it must be Morcubus. He’s almost completely unrecognizable without the signature spiky hair and red suit. He has a normal, if somewhat messily cut, close-cropped haircut, and his goatee has been replaced with a heavy five o’clock shadow. He’s wearing old jeans and a T-shirt with a few unidentifiable stains on it.

The weirdest part, though, is that his eyes are wrong. The eyebrows look normal now, instead of thick and bushy like they used to be… and though I’m not sure exactly what color his eyes were before, I’m fairly certain they weren’t bright blue. These are, of course, modifiable elements of one’s face, but why would you put all the effort into putting in contacts and plucking your eyebrows if you weren’t going to pay any attention to the rest of your appearance?

But this is exactly his disguise tactic, I realize with a start. If you don’t look like you’re putting effort into your appearance, nobody’s going to guess that you are. They’re going to think that all your features are natural.

Morcubus walks into the building. A few seconds later, Agent Sam and a couple of her agents emerge from the S.P.A. vehicle and follow him inside. Once they’re in the building, Brandi and Esma exit the van and crouch behind another car that’s nearer to th door. Three other people, also wearing Morcucorp garb, exit from the backseat of the van, and two of them creep over to a bush on the other side of the parking lot, while the third goes over to the S.P.A. car and begins puncturing the tires.

I start getting tense again. We considered the possibility of the S.P.A’s vehicle being somehow compromised, but we still hoped it wouldn’t come to that, because it made the plan even more risky. I glance at Makoto, and she nods. “Plan B,” she whispers. Somehow, her breathing is still as steady as ever.

After a few minutes the S.P.A. members emerge from the building, all helping to escort a handcuffed and enraged Morcubus. The Morcucorp members emerge from their hiding spots, and fighting breaks loose in the parking lot.

It’s time for Makoto and I to act. Makoto sprints toward the S.P.A. vehicle while I creep behind the bushes and cars to try and sneakily get closer to Brandi. Plan A was to wreck the morcuvan and help the S.P.A. get away in their own vehicle. But now that the S.P.A. vehicle is compromised, the tactic is going to have to be to get the S.P.A. away using the morcuvan. This involves taking the keys. I happen to know that Brandi always drives, and that she keeps the keys on her belt. But, as Brandi herself taught me, in order to successfully pickpocket someone, you need a distraction.

One distraction is Makoto taking out the Morcucorp member nearest to the S.P.A. car. This gets Brandi to look over in surprise, likely not expecting the S.P.A. to have more people up their sleeve. But, as helpful as that is, it isn’t the main distraction. The main distraction is me taking advantage of her head being turned by running up and elbowing her in the face, catching her good eye. I’m purposefully messy, “accidentally” ramming into her with my hip as well – and, at the exact same time, unclipping the keys from her belt and shoving them into my pocket.

Brandi whirls around, trying to land a hit, but with her only good eye having just been struck, she doesn’t have very good aim. If she taught me well, she may not even know I took the keys. I dodge, and glance across the lot at Makoto, and give her a thumbs up. It’s time for the next phase of the plan. I glance at another Morcucorp member who has noticed me and is making their way toward me, and hope to God that Makoto is really able to do what she said she was when we were formulating our plan.

Makoto, on the other side of the parking lot, lifts up the S.P.A. car with her bare hands and tosses it into the fray.

Everyone scatters. Morcubus manages to wrench himself from Esma’s grip, only to land in Agent Sam’s. I dash over, the only one not slightly dazed, and kick Esma in the back of the knees. She crumples. God, that felt good. I glance up to see that Makoto has incapacitated another Morcucorp member, and so has Amanda’s stupid blond assistant. Maybe I should give him more credit.

Things are looking good for us. Makoto and I rush in the direction of the morcuvan, motioning for Agent Sam and the others to follow.

“I’ve got the keys,” I shout, taking them out of my pocket for proof.

And that’s when a second morcuvan shows up.

And when they get out of the vehicle, we can clearly see that these ones have brought weapons.

“Shit,” I say. But right at that moment, two S.P.A. vehicles show up as well.

Amanda and her buddies catch up to us, dragging Morcubus. “You two kids take the van and get out of here. You shouldn’t be here. We’ve got it from here on out.”

“But –”

“Thank you for helping us hold them off. We couldn’t have done it without you. But you need to get out of here. Right. Now.”

Right on cue, I am rammed into from behind. I fall on the ground, hitting the concrete hard. A jingling noise, and I look up to see the morcuvan keys fly vaguely in the direction of the other Morcucorp people before Amanda’s agents manage to subdue Brandi.

“You should practice your pickpocketing, idiot. I’m still better than you blind.” Brandi’s eye is swelling up from the blow I gave her before.

“Fuck!” I shout. That was our escape plan and I just botched it.

Makoto kneels down and grabs my shoulders. “Amanda is correct. But we don’t need the van. I can run up to 40 kilometers per hour.” she stands up, and in almost one swift motion, lifts the morcuvan over her head, chucks it, picks me up, and runs.

Chapter Text

We’re rushing through the industrial district at a speed that shouldn’t be possible for a small teenage girl, especially one who’s carrying a fairly regular-sized teenage boy in her arms bridal-style.

But then again, I just saw her toss two cars across a parking lot. I shouldn’t be surprised.

Makoto slows a bit. “We are proximal to my father’s residence. Is it alright if I take you there? It is likely the safest option.”

“Sure,” I say breathlessly. Why is my heart racing? I’m not the one running through the city at an inhuman velocity.

Makoto speeds up again, running across a street, past a junkyard, and up a winding cliff path toward a large looming industrial building.

Makoto slows down as we approach, and then finally stops and lets me down near the door. As we pull apart, I realize my arms have been around her, clasped behind her neck like I was holding on for dear life, this entire time. I feel my face flush red. I quickly pull away from her, find my balance, and look up at the building in front of us. “What is this, a factory?”

“It is Dr. F’s lab,” Makoto says, punching in a code at the door.

Oh, right. Her father is a scientist. A ‘mad scientist,’ as Dr. F is generally known. I don’t know anything else about him, though. I don’t even know what the F stands for.

Makoto opens the door and I follow her inside.

We find ourselves on a sort of metal balcony overlooking a huge laboratory. The balcony attaches to an entire second floor within the same room. A few people are bustling around. On the lower level, a man with white hair and a white labcoat is standing at a desk. He turns around to face us.

“Makoto!” he says. He makes his way toward us, still holding a test tube in one hand, while Makoto and I start descending the stairs. “You’ve finally brought a boy home! Good for you!”

“Derek is a friend. I have brought him here because we are escaping a dangerous situation,” Makoto informs the man. His grin falls away.

“What kind of situation?”

“An altercation with Morcucorp and the S.P.A.”

“Are both of you alright?” the man says, looking us over.

“I am in nearly perfect condition. Derek is –”

“I’m fine,” I say. I feel a little banged up but I don’t need to be fussed over.

The man holds out his hand. “I’m Dr. F, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you.”

He shakes my hand very briskly and I wince as pain shoots up my arm. Dr. F does not appear to notice. Instead, in one swift motion, he gulps down the liquid in the test tube.

I stand silently, appalled, as Dr. F licks his lips contemplatively. “Alexa!” he calls out into the lab, “Add more boysenberry concentrate to the next batch! Derek, I’ll show you to our living quarters if you’d like to stay a while.” Without waiting for a response, Dr. F turns and motions that we follow him. He places the empty test tube in a sink as we pass by it, and then leads us through a door and down a hallway. While we walk, Makoto updates Dr. F on the Morcubus situation. He listens, eyes growing wider. I notice Makoto leaves out the part where she chucked two large vehicles.

“Well, I’m glad they’ve located Morcubus,” Dr. F mutters, almost to himself, as he punches in a code at the door. We’ve reached the end of the hall. “This will have implications… well, I suppose I’ll probably read about it in the papers soon enough.” he opens a door and ushers us both in.

“Stay as long as you like, Derek!” Dr. F says. “I’m sure they’ve got Morc apprehended by now, but I’m sure that must have been scary. Or maybe you’ve experienced worse. I guess I don’t know. Now, I must be getting back to my experiment. Let’s hope Alexa located the container of non-explosive boysenberry concentrate. I really shouldn’t keep it right next to the explosive one.” Dr. F hurries out of the room and shuts the door, and with that, Makoto and I are alone in what looks like a large, open-plan apartment.

“Kinda rude of him to not even ask how you’re doing,” I say.

“He knows I have high strength and endurance,” Makoto shrugs.

“Still. He’s your father.” I realize that questioning Dr. F’s parenting skills is perhaps not the politest thing to do upon entering Makoto’s house. So I point to the couch. “Do you wanna, uh, sit down?”

Shoot. Wait. I’m not supposed to ask her if she wants to sit down, she’s supposed to ask me if I want to sit down. I’m messing everything up. Makoto doesn’t appear to notice though. She sits down on the couch and I join her.

We sit in silence for a few moments. Then I crack a half-smile.

“So, we did it, huh?” I say. “The right thing or whatever.”

“By my calculations, we did,” says Makoto. “Everything worked out positively in the end.”

“Yeah.” My smile melts away. “So, this is it then, I guess.”

Makoto looks at me and tilts her head. “What do you mean?”

“Well… it’s over. We’ve righted my wrongs. And if you still don’t wanna be seen interacting with me…” I look away, fidgeting. “Then this is gonna have to be the end of us being friends, isn’t it?”

Makoto is quiet for a moment, staring at the other end of the room.

“I do want to remain friends,” she says. “Our shared experiences give us a connection of a type that I don’t have with any of my other peers.”

I hesitate a moment, and then pull one leg up onto the couch in order to turn to face her. Might as well just say it straight up and get it over with. “Yeah. we do. But if you don’t think I’m cool enough to even acknowledge me at school then we can’t be friends. If there’s anything I’ve learned from the whole morcucorp thing it’s that friendship is a two-way street.” oh god, what the hell am I saying? I shut my mouth before it can spew any more sappy friendship nonsense.

Makoto looks me right in the eyes. “My experience has led me to a similar conclusion,” she says, “and I do find you to be a person whose friendship is valuable. My friends would not agree. Therefore, if my objective is to remain popular – ”

“And why are you so obsessed with that?” I don’t believe Makoto is a bad person. I really don’t. It just seems like her priorities are mixed up. “You’re lucky to have the ability to do that. Be popular and wherever. I sure don’t. But why do you think that’s all there is?”

“Query: Is that not everybody’s objective?” Makoto looks at me pointedly.

“I don’t know. My main ‘objective’ is to have a good life, I guess. All the popular kids are gonna be the most boring people a few years down the line, you know.”

“I disagree with the universality of that assertion. Query: are you not upset that you are not experiencing the classic high school experience?”

“I’m at peace with it,” I say. “No one’s gonna get a completely average or stereotypical experience of life. I might not be getting the perfect classic experience, but like, nobody is, and most people aren’t even getting a little bit of it.”

Makoto stares past me thoughtfully. “I suppose I had not taken that phenomenon into account,” she admitted. “I do know there is a distinction between mode and mean, and therefore the average experience is not the most frequently occurring one. Perhaps I should adjust my objective.”

“Okay, you’re still missing the point though. The point is that you should live however makes you happy, not in some way tailored to being as normal as possible. But I don't know, I guess I’m a totally different person. I don’t even have the option to be as normal as possible. So you can do whatever you want I guess. You don’t have to listen to me.” I lean back on the couch and don’t look at her. It’s too awkward.

“You have a strong argument,” Makoto says. “Perhaps I should consider the possibility that my current objective is not fully achievable for me.”

“It’s not achievable for anyone.”

Makoto frowns and is silent for what feels like a very long time. I’m almost about to suggest I leave when finally she speaks again.

“Derek, I request permission to be candid.”

“Yeah, totally.”

“While I enjoy pursuing my objective of being a normal high school girl, I recognize that in the interest of achieving this I frequently pretend that I enjoy activities that I do not truthfully enjoy, and vice versa. I also recognize that my friends are not always nice. However, I would also say that you, and many others, are guilty of a similar level of unwarranted rudeness toward my friends.”

I’m not sure what to say to this. Like, what do I do, apologize? There’s a moment of awkward silence.

“I think, no matter what I do, there will be benefits and drawbacks,” Makoto says. “I think I must make the unfortunate assertion – I believe this is the correct usage of a colloquial term – high school just kind of sucks.”

“Well, I can agree with you on that.”

Makoto stares at the wall, looking lost in thought. “On the subject of benefits and drawbacks – I have been intending to attend the homecoming dance with Travis.”

Oh, god. I’ve reached THIS level of friendzone.

“I have been considering the assertion that there are more drawbacks to this than benefits. I have diverted much effort into increasing my probability of becoming a romantic prospect for him, because I determined from the data available to me that he is the most romantically sought-after boy in the school. However, I have also learned over the last few months that romance is something that is very important to people and they often seek it due to the experience of an emotional connection with the person. Query: Would it not be cruel for me to pretend that this connection exists where there isn’t one, when Travis could instead be romantically involved with a girl who experiences romantic feelings for him?”

I have literally no idea what to say in response to this.

“But I do still prioritize having the experience of going to the homecoming dance. It is quite important to me. So I have found myself unable to make a decision.”

Yeah, so, I realize this would be a terrible time to ask Makoto if she wanted to go to the dance with me. But the idea comes into my head anyways. I heavily consider it for like three seconds, then dispel the thought by telling myself that Makoto doesn’t like me like that, and the last thing I want is to ruin our friendship. Honestly, due to everything I’ve been saying just now, our friendship is probably hanging by a thread already.

“That’s understandable,” I say instead. “I mean, I’ll be honest, I’ve always secretly wanted to go to a school dance.”

Then Makoto turns to me. “Derek, I realize this is much more suddenly and informally than this kind of proposal usually occurs. But would you go to homecoming with me?”

Oh. Okay.

“I… I mean, if you’re okay with people seeing us there together… then yes, totally.” My heart is racing again. Fuck. Am I even thinking about what I’m saying?

“There would be conditions for both of us. I would openly introduce you to my friends as my homecoming date and encourage them to offer you kindness. And in return, you would give them a chance and not be rude to them. Do you agree to these terms?” Makoto is looking at me very seriously. I stare right back at her, reluctant to break eye contact.

“Yes,” I say.

It seems like a fair exchange. The thought of being nice to Liberty turns my stomach, but I can at least be civil. And it’s not like all of them have wronged me. One thing still bugs me though.

“This isn’t you, like… using me to pursue your objective or whatever, is it?”

Makoto cocks her head. “Well, I do want to attend homecoming, without going with Travis, or any of the other candidates I was pursuing for their social status. This is the main reason I asked you. It seems much more preferable to all parties if I go with someone with whom I actually have a connection or attachment.”

My mouth breaks into a smile. I can’t help it. And then my smile falls away a second later when suddenly my stomach growls. Like, VERY loud.

Before I even have time to be embarrassed, Makoto says, “That is a sign of hunger. Query: would you desire something to eat?” she gestures to the kitchen.

Actually, now that I think of it, I am extremely hungry.

“Yeah, actually, that’d be great, if you don’t mind.”

Makoto gets up and I follow her. She opens the fridge. “Do you enjoy peanut butter and jelly sandwiches?”

“Yeah, PB&J is always good.”

She lays out four slices of bread on two plates, and opens up some jars of peanut butter and jelly.

“I can make mine.”

“I am the host, and therefore I will make it,” Makoto says firmly. I shrug and let her make both the sandwiches.

“This is your dad’s fridge, right? You sure the peanut butter isn’t radioactive?” I joke as she methodically spreads the sandwich materials on the bread.

“No, my father keeps the radioactive peanut butter in the lab,” she says matter-of-factly. She does not seem to recognize that I made a joke. I guess it’s my bad for forgetting that her father actually is weird enough to own radioactive peanut butter.

Makoto hands me my sandwich, and then we stand leaning against the counter while we eat them. Meanwhile, the whole ordeal at the therapist’s office is finally running through my head. I think I was putting off processing it till now.

I swallow the last bite of sandwich and dust off my hands. “You know, assuming the S.P.A. managed to deal with Morcucorp… then this is it. We’ve gotten morcucorp back for everything they did for us, basically. It’s kinda closure for us.”

“That is an optimistic statement,” says Makoto. “Query: do you think it can truly be closure if it does not reverse what initially occurred?

I’m silent for a moment.

“It’s closure if we want it to be, I guess,” I say finally.

Makoto nods. “It is closure if we want it to be.”