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When the court recessed, Simon Blackquill was anticipating a drab cafeteria meal, or perhaps one of Angel Starr's disturbingly-described but surprisingly tasty bento boxes. He wasn't expecting to be swept up by a hurricane the approximate color of a summer day.
"Simon!" He had no further warning before Athena struck. She grabbed his arm with both of hers, tucking his elbow firmly into her cleavage, which tidily immobilized him; on his other shoulder, Taka flapped and shifted his balance. "The Kogi Truck's downtown today! I'm buying you lunch!"
"What? Athena, release me!"
"Vámonos! Allons-y!" She didn't let go, and Simon was, shamefully, not that eager to dislodge his arm from her embrace, so he had no choice but to let her maneuver him into the elevator.
Where she turned loose of his arm, fortunately. She couldn't have realized what she was doing back there, he reminded himself. She was just eager to take him to... "The Kogi Truck?"
"You remember food trucks, right, Simon?"
"I remember seeing them."
"So what you're saying is you've never actually been to one."
"That was implied, yes."
"Excellent! It'll be a new experience!"
"Athena, what on earth?"
The doors slid open before them, and Athena dashed out, then turned to face him, arms akimbo. "Ever since you got out of prison, you've been living off of supermarket sushi and courthouse cafeteria food."
He stepped out of the elevator as well, and she turned and started walking. He fell into step beside her. "I've been trying to get back in the habit of cooking, you know."
"I know, I know, but you don't do that for lunch, and I gotta break you out of your rut. We're in Los Angeles! Eating boring food here is a crime."
He had no real response to that — compared to the dull, starchy diet he'd been served in prison, with the color of jello the main variation from day to day, the courthouse cafeteria offered ample variety — so he remained silent until she elbowed him. "Come on, you're a prosecutor and I'm a defense attorney. We have to be able to milk that cheesy setup for at least a couple of rounds."
"If we must..." He cleared his throat. "Er... need I remind you that I am also a convicted criminal?"
"Nah, I cleared your name! You're on the straight and narrow now. That means you're eating Korean tacos for lunch."
Apparently he was. She led the way to People Park, where a small fleet of food trucks had gathered to peddle their wares to a crowd of downtown employees. She grabbed his hand and pulled him past a traditional looking ramen handcart, hissing "don't make eye contact!" and failed to let go afterwards.
"What was that about?"
"That's Eldoon's. The Wrights love the place, but trust me, there are way better noodles around. Ahh, there it is! See the line?" She pointed. With her free hand. She was still holding his hand. It was just a habit from childhood resurfacing, surely.
"Indeed." Athena's truck of choice was white, more or less, underneath the coating of stickers — although he assumed they were advertising various local establishments, but the oddly pop-art styled Blue Badger portraits were the only ones he recognized.
And a menu. "I'm getting us... let's see, the Kogi Dog's amazing, but I gotta get you some tacos, and then... hmm."
"I take it my input is not required."
"Nein, nein, tell me what you want!"
"In all seriousness, Athena, I leave it to your judgment. I'll simply occupy myself trying to decipher the sticker collection."
"How's Taka do with spicy food?"
"I can't say that I've ever had cause to find out."
Which seemed to be sufficient information for her. "Okay, I know what we're getting."
The tacos — shortrib — were small but filling, spicy and flavorful; the hot dog was smoky and delicious beneath a thicket of slaw and sauce, and Taka seemed quite appreciative of the second hot dog Athena had ordered for him; the quesadilla they were sharing was crisp and spicy and slathered with a salsa that made it incredibly difficult to eat neatly, but that explained the fistfuls of napkins she'd claimed when she handed the food over to him. She beamed at his every approving comment, Widget remaining cheerfully green the whole time. Sitting on the park bench, shoulders touching, felt somehow more intimate yet less open to misinterpretation than her grip on his arm or her taking his hand had felt. It was a curious sensation; peaceful happiness.
"It's good to see you smile," she said. "I like your smile."
And there he was, reminding himself again not to misinterpret. "Ah... thank you."
"Aww, you didn't have to quit just because I noticed!" She pouted momentarily, then sprang up from her seat. "But no matter. Stage one complete. Now for dessert!" She punched one fist into the palm of her other hand. "I know just the place. You like imagawayaki, right? Ought to be right in your wheelhouse."
"I thought the idea was to break me out of my rut?"
"Your rut of boring stuff. Doesn't mean you can't have any Japanese food. The Kitakis and Wright agency go way back."
"Kitaki. The crime family?"
"They've cleaned up their act, as far as I know. And they make really good sweets."
The stand she was leading him to looked less portable than the food trucks, but only slightly more permanent; he wouldn't have been surprised to see it at a food festival. Behind a plastic barrier, he could see the all-important metal pan, batter bubbling away inside the individual compartments. And standing over it, a young man with an elaborate, flashy, deeply confusing hairstyle in at least three colors.
Who seemed to know Athena. And Simon himself, at least by sight. "Yo, Athena. This is the prosecutor you sprung from death row? Respect!"
"Er." Was that aimed at him?
"Really?" Athena seemed almost as confused. "It wasn't like a jailbreak, you know."
"Not you, him!" Simon saw a flash of red from Widget even before her hands balled up into fists, but Kitaki's full attention was on Simon. "I mean, I believe in the O.G. life, but I gotta respect a prosecutor who's done hard time. It's like, you're not just some law-and-order tightass, you gotta code, just like me!"
"Er... something like that, I suppose," he said. As absurd as the boy's nattering sounded, he was hitting surprisingly close to home regarding Simon's approach to justice and the law. "We just want two imagawayaki, though. One red bean, one custard."
"You got it, G! On the house!"
He bustled around, packaging the pastries; when his back was turned, Athena stuck out her tongue at him. Simon tried not to smirk.
"Come back anytime, yo," Kitaki said. "Tell me what it's like, you know? On the inside?"
"Perhaps," Simon said. Unlikely. It wasn't something he chose to relive, and while he could certainly spin tales of some of the colorful characters he'd known there, he didn't think anything could really convey the experience of imprisonment. Not that a young man fascinated with the idea of criminal glamour was likely to care about that. "Thank you," he added.
He could feel Athena seething until they got out of earshot, but when she finally spoke, all she said was, "Ugh, he's so rude." Then a shrug; Widget was a serene blue. "But I guess I can't argue with free imagawayaki. And you got custard out of him without a rant!"
"Oh?"
"Yeah, normally he gets all—" Her voice dropped to a mimicry of the boy's thuggish register, "'This be selling out, OG crackers are filled with red bean and nothin' else.'"
"He calls them crackers?"
"Yeah, don't ask me. Thinks it sounds more hardcore than 'pancakes' or 'muffins.'"
"They don't exactly resemble muffins, either."
"Yeah, but that's what his dad sometimes calls them. I don't get it either. If you're going to try to Americanize the name... maybe donuts?"
"Waffles, perhaps?"
"Yeah, since watching them get made is half the fun! But I guess they might have just been trying to avoid the 'Kitaki Imagawayaki' tongue-twister."
"One might think it would be a selling point," Simon said.
"Aha!" she replied, with surprising happiness. "Got you to smile again."
"Surely I haven't been that dour. The meal was delicious." He bit into his imagawayaki, as if to demonstrate. "Also delicious," he added, mouth full.
"I dunno about dour, but I was a little worried. It sounded like you were having some anxiety about the crowds."
"You're not wrong, but I assumed this was some deliberate exposure therapy."
"It was, but it's not like I asked first, you know?"
"Mm. As you say, I need a push now and again to get me out of my rut. I can't guarantee your assistance will always be welcome..."
"But you're gonna let me know if it's not, right?"
"Of course."
"Awesome! Then I'm going to make this lunch deal a regular thing. Prepare yourself, Simon!"
There was no point to trying to hide his feelings — affection, dread, and happiness — as he responded, "I shall try."
It was difficult to prepare himself for the plans of someone as unpredictable as Athena, however. Some days, she descended on him at lunch and conducted him to some restaurant or food truck in the vicinity; he learned to keep a metro card available at all times, an easier habit to establish than carrying a cell phone or driving. Other days, she did the legwork, and he left the courtroom to find her waiting, bearing styrofoam takeout containers holding pupusas or burritos or bánh mì sandwiches, plastic cups of boba or bottles of green tea, smoothies or coffee.
More rare were the days she was too busy to intervene. He found himself scanning the hall as soon as he left the courtroom, looking for her; he tried to ignore the pang of disappointment he felt each time he confirmed her absence. Athena had better things to do than shepherd an old acquaintance around since he couldn't be relied on to find sustenance for himself; he should be happy on her behalf if the demands of either her career or her social life pulled her away from him. It was selfish to feel that the food held less savor without her at his side, or rather, selfish to care that it did; he had his freedom, and that was enough of an unlooked-for gift.
And then there were the times that she made no appearance at lunch recess, but caught him at the end of the day; they'd go back to his still-Spartan apartment, closer to the courthouse, and eat sitting on the floor, sharing the details of their days and their cases, insofar as they were permitted.
One evening, when he'd resigned himself to a day of solitary meals, she dashed up to the courthouse as he was leaving for the day. He'd been partnered temporarily with Detective Gumshoe for a fairly open-and-shut grand larceny case; compared to the detective's rice-and-weiners bento, Simon felt his own plan of making sushi at home was positively self-indulgent. Then he heard her voice, a bright "Buenas noches!" and it felt as though the world had snapped back into focus.
"Athena," he said, striving to keep his voice even and his face stony. He needed to be stern with himself.
"Buenos nachos!" Gumshoe exclaimed in response, with his lopsided grin. "Long time no see, pal!"
"Yeah, I'm glad I heard you were on loan to Simon today! Means I get to treat both of you." She extended her hand, fingers in a V for victory; the other, at her side, held a pair of compact, grease-spotted paper bags.
"Treat us? Like to food?" Gumshoe asked hopefully. Considering the definite smell of roasted meat emanating from Athena's vicinity, the question seemed unnecessary.
"Naturellement!" She shifted one bag to her other hand, holding one out to each man. "Carnitas tacos. I was over by the Grand Central Market to investigate a case and I figured I should feed you guys even if I don't have any appetite."
"Aww, that's really nice of you," Gumshoe said, accepting his bag cheerfully. Simon could only do the same.
On his shoulder, Taka shifted his weight, cocking his head curiously at the bag. Clearly he found the smell of the meat at least as appetizing as Simon himself did, but her words nagged at him. "Are you well?" Simon asked. "If it's the case I heard the detective mention this morning—"
"It was kind of messy," she admitted, "but they'd already removed the body, so I really just have my own imagination to blame, you know? I'll be fine."
"This is just a taco?" the detective asked.
"They're huge," she said. "They give you additional tortillas, so you split the filling up and get a couple of tacos out of the deal. So you get a few nights off from instant noodles and mac-and-cheese, pal!"
"Hey, leave my phrase alone," Gumshoe protested, without heat. "Some of us like noodles."
"Oh, me too, but you need protein sometimes! And vitamin C, so you don't get scurvy. Be sure to squeeze the limes onto the tacos, they're great that way."
"Er—" Simon began, unsure of what he even intended to say. Do you need someone to talk to about what you've seen? or Take care of yourself, or perhaps something even more regrettable.
"Okay, you got your directions, I gotta go catch up with Apollo! Ciao!" She was off before he'd finished opening his mouth to respond.
"Huh," Gumshoe said, which really expressed it all, Simon felt.
"Indeed."
"She does this a lot?"
"Not quite every day..."
"Hmm," Gumshoe said, with a distinctly cheerful lilt Simon found suspicious. "Usually good stuff?"
"Excellent, in fact."
"Guess I'll be livin' the high life for a few days, then."
That evening, he returned home to find an email from Athena waiting. As she did every day that she fed him, she'd detailed the source of the meal, located it for him on a map, and she'd provided travel directions and other editorial notes.
She'd provided quite a bit more than that, including the desk where his computer rested, the bookcases on the walls, and the selection of recreational reading occupying the shelves, though the legal books were his own, retrieved from storage. As soon as he'd acquired the apartment itself, with Miles Edgeworth's assistance, Athena had sprung into action to acquire and assemble the bookcases from Ikea; the desk and its accompanying chair had followed a week later.
But no table and chairs, as yet. They'd eaten on the floor again the night before. Left to his own devices, he ate at his desk.
He squeezed the lime onto the contents of his taco, as she'd commanded, and fed a shred of pork to Taka, who gulped it down enthusiastically. The tang of the lime juice did enhance the rich flavor of the pork, which was superb; she knew him too well already, he thought. He always disregarded the extras, as when she brought him takeout phở for lunch, and needed to be reminded to make use of them.
She did know him too well. He knew that she had other friends, that she had her colleagues at the Wright Agency, but she spent altogether too much time with Simon himself. She was young, beautiful, and had a brilliant career ahead of her; any man would have been drawn to her, even if she hadn't redeemed him and saved his life.
And he was ten years her senior. She'd been a child when she'd known him; she saw him as an older brother. She'd be disgusted if she knew the bent his thoughts were taking now, despite his best efforts to combat them.
Best that he make use of the maps and directions, he thought. Best that he put some distance between them, and find his own way in the world. She was giving him all he needed to do exactly that, in fact. Athena was mapping out a world for him, centered on the courthouse. Not just restaurants and food trucks, but favorite stores and markets — she'd lured him out on one day off to visit Little Tokyo, now a favorite lunch destination on his solo days — parks and jogging routes, and information on the metro to take him further afield. She was trying, with food as her primary but not her only medium, to help him readjust to life outside of prison. To independence.
It would be the purest ingratitude to ignore that.
"I know what you're up to," he growled playfully at her the next morning, when he encountered her in the courthouse lobby. He'd intended it playfully, at any rate, but Widget flashed blue, round mouth and eyes a pale echo of her own shock; her hands came up to her face as if he'd accused her of something truly reprehensible.
"Y-you do?"
"The maps, the additional notes? You're trying to ease my transition. Pave the way to letting me do all this on my own." He watched her with concern. What had she thought he meant?
She laughed stiffly. "Heh, yeah, busted! I should have figured you'd catch on." Then, as if realization had just struck her, she brightened, and grabbed his free hand with both of hers. "But there is absolutely no rush, you understand?" she said eagerly. "I'm here to help you out and guide you around and buy you lunch for as long as you want!"
"Er..."
"You know. If you still want." She subsided a bit, leaning back out of his personal space, letting go of his hand.
There had been times, early on, when he'd been frustrated with her enthusiastic presence; when he'd wanted the space of a solitary lunch to turn over his case in his mind, or to brood over his own thoughts. Sometimes he still felt that way, a comfort when he felt the disappointment of her absence. But the prospect of actually asking her for that space was shockingly unwelcome, especially framed as it was here, as an all-or-nothing choice. Did he still want her at his side, eagerly watching as he took his first bite, chirping "I know, right?" when he praised it, or making enthusiastic noises around a mouthful of her own food? Of course he did. The occasional request for solitude could wait until he felt it necessary.
"Of course I do," he said. "The tacos you provided yesterday were excellent."
"Aren't they?" she exclaimed, clearly delighted. "I should take you there so you can really get a look around. It's this whole market area, tons of food stands all in one place, and shops selling, like, bulk spices and stuff — it's great, you're gonna love it. There's Eggslut, and the vegan ramen place I've been meaning to try—"
"Vegan ramen?" Compared to that oxymoron, the provocatively-named establishment could pass without comment.
"Okay, maybe that'll be me and Junie sometime, no worries. But I'm totally taking you there. The market, I mean. And you can scowl at the vegan ramen from a distance. You free at lunch today?"
It was the first time she'd asked; he'd never actually spoken his occasional misgivings, but she must have realized. "I have no plans, but today's case may be... demanding."
"Okay, well, I'll check on you at lunch, then." She turned to go, then turned back. "Sorry I've been kind of steamrolling you into these things up to now."
"It has been nothing but a pleasure," he said, with a bow, and complete honesty.
It wasn't until her bright ponytail had disappeared around the corner of the corridor that he remembered his resolve from the previous night to keep his distance.
With that in mind, he turned down her invitation that day — the case was, indeed, demanding of his mental energy, with a defense lawyer hectoring a timid eyewitness into near-silence and some slapdash detective work requiring additional investigation. He spent the next three days focused on the case, shoveling tasteless meals into his mouth as he pored over witness statements trying to reconcile inconsistencies.
The fourth day, the court recessed early after Simon's hard-fought victory. The eyewitness had finally, with eyes fixed on Taka's threat display, stammered out the reason for his familiarity with the killer's rather intimately-placed birthmark, and the defense had tasted bitter defeat.
And Simon was, for the first time in days, ravenous. As if she'd sensed it, Athena was waiting outside the courtroom, and she started toward him, arms extended as if for a hug, before she caught herself up short. "Congratulations, Simon!" she exclaimed, hands clasped behind her back as if she needed to keep them from hugging him of their own accord.
"I thank you," he said, bowing slightly. "Will you join me for a celebratory feast?"
"I would be honored, Simon-dono!" she said, grinning at him. "You have any place in mind, or can I pick?"
"I believe you had a market you wished to show me?"
"You remembered! Magnifico! Let's go!"
The spot that she led him to — the wide-open ground floor of a multi-story building, nestled among historic architecture — wasn't quite the open-air market he'd expected from her email, but once inside, he could see why she hadn't bothered to describe the building in any detail. It was easy to forget they were even indoors.
"So what I figured," she explained, steering him past a coffee stall, "was that we'd explore the place so you can get an idea of the options, then you pick where we eat, since you won. We can even take our time, since we're both done for the day!" Her own case had recessed for additional investigation, a task that was apparently best left to Apollo Justice since the witness had some sort of phobia.
"Excellent," he agreed, though a bit faintly. The aisles between the stalls were thronged with patrons; he wasn't sure he'd faced such a dense crowd since his release from prison.
"If you're up to it," she said. "We can always try somewhere else, you know."
"No," he said, then, with a slight smile, "I will not shrink from battle."
"Once more unto the breach, then!" she said. "Want me to lead? Just keep sight of me, okay?"
That might have been an unwise arrangement. The crowd's density was less of a problem than anticipated — Taka's presence on his shoulder led everyone who noticed it to give him a wide berth — but Athena had no such companion, and he was in constant peril of losing her should the crowd close around her. He was too busy trying to keep sight of Athena to pay close attention to the stalls on either side of him, so he took in the market in flashes: a neon sign above him, a passerby carrying a plate bearing a bagel with lox, the smell of coffee, a bin of bananas. "And here is the Eggslut line," she declared ceremoniously, gesturing at the line that they had, in fact, been moving parallel to for some time. A woman standing in the line chuckled and saluted them with her paper cup of coffee.
"Perhaps another day," Simon said.
"I think super early in the morning is the best time, but I'd have to pick whether to eat before or after my jog. If you wanted to join me, though..."
How was he supposed to decline when she smiled at him? "I am at your disposal," he said.
"Awesome, it's a date, then!"
She darted ahead, leaving Simon to contemplate her unsettling choice of words with, at least, the security of knowing she wasn't watching his reaction.
And then he nearly ran into her. She had her arm raised in an expansive wave, but then she cupped her hands around her mouth and called, "Hey! Pearly!"
He could identify "Pearly" only by guesswork; one young girl, wearing a short kimono Simon thought he recognized as Kurain's customary garb, covered her mouth with one hand to smother a small gasp of surprise, then smiled, and bowed in their direction.
Athena started forward happily, throwing a "c'mon, Simon!" over her shoulder and then darting through the crowd; larger and less able to slip into the gaps than she was, Simon lagged behind. When he finally caught up, she was shaking hands with an older woman — perhaps roughly Simon's own age — wearing a more traditional purple kimono and a dark jacket that was unmistakably of Kurain design. The Master of Kurain? Or perhaps just an adult adept. Both wore magatama necklaces.
"I've heard so much about you!" Athena was saying.
"Good things, I hope— wait, you work with Nick and Trucy, right?"
"That's right."
"Great, then I can just be myself," the woman said.
"Mystic Maya!"
"What? She's heard the worst."
"There you are, Simon!" Athena exclaimed, then turned back to the two women. "This is Simon Blackquill. He's my... friend. That Pearly's heard me talk about."
"Oh!" the girl exclaimed, covering her mouth again.
"What slander have you been committing, Athena?" he asked.
"It's all been very complimentary!" she protested. "Right, Pearly?"
"Very much so," the girl confirmed. "My name is Pearl Fey. It's an honor to finally meet you, Mr. Blackquill."
She bowed, very crisply and properly, and Simon bowed in return. How complimentary? In what way? What had she been saying?
"And this is Mystic Maya Fey, the master of Kurain," Pearl added, indicating the woman in the kimono, still seated. She extended her hand for a handshake, leaving Simon to awkwardly arrest his bow so as to respond in kind.
"So have you guys eaten?" the Master of Kurain asked. "You should totally join us! I have never eaten burgers this good before. It's like a religious experience."
"This is..."
"Bel Campo Meat Market," Maya said, as Simon's eyes landed on the sign on the wall conveying exactly that. "Seriously, so good."
"I got no problem with this! If Maya says they're good burgers, they're good burgers," Athena said.
"Then our course of action is clear," Simon said. "Please, Athena, in honor of my victory in court, allow me to pay."
Pearl and Athena exchanged a glance Simon couldn't decipher, and then Athena flashed him a grin. "Okay, you twisted my arm," she said. "Count us in."
"Yay! Let's split some fries, since there's four of us."
"Mystic Maya..."
"Hey, at least I'm not ordering a beer!"
Simon wasn't certain he'd identify the burger as a religious experience, but then, he gathered few people shared Maya Fey's passion for cheeseburgers. It was an excellent specimen, however — juicy, topped with a sharp, flavorful cheddar, caramelized onions, and pickles that Athena threatened to steal from him when he didn't rhapsodize properly over them. Midway through the meal, Pearl Fey apparently grew tired of having Maya and Athena talk across her about food, and swapped places with Athena; next to her, Simon suddenly felt as though his manners were terribly lacking, even though she was picking up her hamburger with both hands just as they all were.
"I hope we didn't upset you earlier, Mr. Blackquill," she said politely. It was difficult not to think of her as some years younger than Athena, though they were nearly the same age.
"Not at all," he said. Best to leave unsaid how much they'd provoked his curiosity.
"I'm afraid it was a bit rude to say in front of you that we'd talked about you while refusing to tell you what we said, but I couldn't reveal anything Athena told me in confidence."
Except that she's telling you things in confidence, he thought. "It's quite all right."
"Do you want to tell me what you think of Athena? To even the score a bit?"
Was that look sly? She was altogether too transparent to really be scheming, but it was almost cute that she thought otherwise.
"It wouldn't be terribly confidential," Simon pointed out. "She's right next to you."
"Oh, so you have thoughts about her you'd rather she not know?"
He flinched enough that Taka flapped to keep his balance. Perhaps this girl was a more formidable adversary than he'd anticipated. "I... could not possibly say."
"Aww." She pouted a little. "I was really hoping I'd catch you off guard."
"Clearly." He took the next to last bite of his burger, closing his eyes to savor it. And to block out Pearl Fey's penetrating stare.
"Hey, Pearly," Athena said, "Maya was telling me about this Night Market she wants to go to! Simon, you think you'd be up for that?"
"For..." He waited for her to elaborate, but Pearl's eyes had gone wide.
"The one out in Pasadena?"
"Yeah, I can totally drive us there!" Maya said. "They have ramen burgers."
"No!" Pearl exclaimed.
"If we get there early enough the line won't be bad," Maya said, her tone pleading. "Come on, Pearly. It'll be fun!"
"I'm not worried about the line."
"Please, Pearly?" Athena clasped her hands in front of her chest. "It'll be a great way for me to introduce Simon to all kinds of food."
Clearly, he could resolve the situation in an instant by declining, but Athena seemed to have her heart set on this. He took a sip of his water and eyed the menu instead as the other two wheedled Pearl into submission.
"Okay," Pearl said, finally, "but don't blame me for anything that happens, Athena."
"Yay! Thanks, Pearls!" Athena threw her arms around the other girl, heedless of the surprisingly steely tone and ominous content of her words. Clearly, concern about her meaning was to be Simon's domain.
He waited as Athena and Maya negotiated the details, he paid when the check arrived, he shook hands with Maya and bowed to Pearl, and he followed Athena outside. "I was gonna go for ice cream, but if we're going tonight I better save some room for food," she said happily. "This is gonna be awesome! I went to the one in K-town one time, but there's only so much you can eat at once—"
"Pearl-dono's warning caused you no concern?" he inquired, since interruption seemed to be the only way he'd find an opening.
"Meh," she said expressively. "Pearly's from this really remote place up in the mountains. She probably just gets freaked out about LA traffic, you know? I figured you'd be asking me about the Night Market instead."
"That was a somewhat lower priority," he admitted. "But it was on the agenda, should I fail to rouse your concern."
"I'm not worried. I'm just excited I finally know someone who can drive. You should get your license back, Simon! There's all kinds of places I wanna try that take forever to get to without a car! I could take you to the San Gabriel Valley, there's this dim sum place I just love—"
Most people would simply regard some destinations as impossible, but never Athena. "You still haven't explained this market," he reminded her.
The explanation took some time — she kept breaking off to engage in furious rounds of texting, sometimes through Widget, sometimes through her phone — but once he put together the fragmented description she gave, he determined it was a food festival. Not so different, according to Jinxie Tenma, from a traditional matsuri. There were musical performances, games, and the like, but the food was her goal, and by extension his.
"Based on Taiwanese night markets, sort of?" she said. "Though I think those aren't all food stalls, more like general markets. Anyway, you'll see. It's gonna be great."
"This is gonna be great!" Athena repeated — it had to be at least the fourth time that night — just before Maya Fey, confronted with an opening in the traffic to one side, peeled out of her space in the habitual Los Angeles traffic jam, raced through it, and just as abruptly screeched to a stop inches from the rear bumper of the car in front of her. She'd gained maybe five car-lengths by doing so.
Pearl, in the front passenger seat, had her hands clasped around her magatama so tightly her knuckles paled.
"It had better be," Simon finally managed. It was for the best that he'd left Taka at home tonight. At least one of them would survive.
"Pearly," Athena said. "Was this what you meant?"
"Hey, I have never been in a collision with another vehicle," Maya said, sounding offended. "Some people may have problems with my driving, like Pearly, and Nick, and Miles and Ema, but that doesn't mean I'm actually a bad driver. Oop!" Traffic was moving; she lurched forward, and then braked as convulsively as before.
Her driving was, in fact, so dramatic that Simon didn't process that "Miles" until some interminable time later, when he had his eyes closed to avoid watching her maneuver the car into a parking space in a vast lot situated between a mall and a racetrack. He considered himself on relatively friendly terms with the Chief Prosecutor, but calling him by his given name was unthinkable.
"We're here," Athena exclaimed gratefully, bailing out of the car as if she blamed it for her sufferings.
"We lived," Pearl echoed.
"You guys are such wimps," Maya said, then with a concern that belied her scorn for the girls, turned to him and asked "What about you, Simon? Are you okay?"
"I have faced my own death before," he said gravely. She puffed out her cheeks and glowered at him.
They split up shortly after entry. Maya, Pearl in tow, made a beeline for the Ramen Burger stand; Athena and Simon lingered by a chain link fence, Simon looking around to get his bearings, Athena, presumably, plotting her attack.
"I was too freaked out about dying the whole way here, I totally forgot to tell her," she said unexpectedly.
"Tell..." he repeated, mystified.
"Tell Maya — this isn't the only place to get ramen burgers anymore. They have a takeout place somewhere in K-town. I felt kind of bad about not mentioning it sooner since I just wanted a ride here, but now that I've experienced her driving..."
"Indeed," he said, with feeling. "Have you ever tasted this... concoction?"
"Nah, never wanted to put up with the line — though it doesn't look so bad right now! Are you interested?"
"Morbidly curious, nothing more."
"Yeah, that's about how I feel, too. Here, let's get some lamb skewers."
Athena had an agenda for them, he could see. Spicy chunks of grilled lamb, on skewers; cups of boba tea, a beverage he could never drink without feeling slightly foolish, though Athena's obvious enjoyment helped him to forget that; an order of takoyaki; and while he held the paper boat of takoyaki, Athena pulled out her phone, smiled at a text, and tucked it back into her pocket. "Let's find a place to sit down," she said.
In the heat of a summer evening, Simon felt shade was preferable to a bench; given the way Athena threw herself down on the grass beneath a tree as soon as he led her to the spot, she seemed to agree.
"This is perfect," she said. In the gathering dusk, Widget glowed green at her neck, registering her happiness before he subsided to a dull luminescence. "Thanks for letting me drag you along, Simon."
"I—" He broke off, instead seating himself, as well. Cross-legged, he balanced the takoyaki on his knee; he'd seated himself at a decorous distance from Athena, but that made it hard for her to reach the food.
"It was my pleasure," he said.
"C'mon, Simon, you know that's not true. If nothing else, you were terrified in the car on the way over, and you've liked some of the food here, but not that much, so far."
"Untrue," he said. "The lamb skewers were very good."
"I'm going to keep looking. There's gotta be something here you'll really like."
"Athena..."
Your company is enough. Your company is too much — I should keep you at arm's length.
"Eating is what we're here for, right? And, well — you're unhappy about something. Even if I can't fix that, I can at least make sure you get something good to eat." She got up onto her knees and scooted closer, spearing one of the takoyaki with a toothpick. "Or, you know, you could talk to me about it, if you think that'd help."
"It seems extremely unlikely." It would do the opposite of helping.
"Ugh, it's just getting worse. I really wish you'd tell me."
"I'm amazed you can hear it, over all the ambient noise here."
"I always listen really closely when it's you," she said, eyes downcast. He realized he was holding his breath, but he couldn't seem to exhale just yet.
Especially not when she looked up, her eyes meeting his. "I guess I need to remember most people have a hard time reading each other. Even though I thought I was being super-obvious. We should probably just get it all out in the open, huh?"
He didn't think he nodded, or shook his head, but she seemed to take his silence for a yes. Or else she just didn't want to let anything stop her, since he was quite certain his inner feelings had no desire to be expressed. "So, yeah — I know it's totally possible you just think of me as a little sister or something. I mean, I'm ten years younger than you are, and I was just a little kid when you first knew me. But, uh... I'm not anymore?"
He'd managed to breathe at some point, but he still felt lightheaded. "No," he managed.
"To what part?"
"I..." He cleared his throat. "No, you are no longer a child," he said. "And I do not see you as a little sister. As any kind of sister." He had one of those. His relationship with Athena was very different indeed.
"Phew," she said, but Widget glowed blue with apprehension or fear anyway. "So why is it you seem upset every time I try to flirt with you?"
"I assumed that anything I might interpret as an advance was no such thing. I assumed you saw me only as an older brother, a figure from your past, or an obligation. I assumed that it was my own bias and my own desires deluding me, every time."
"Okay, that wasn't what I was expecting at all. Are you sure I'm not just stomping all over your boundaries?"
"What?"
"I mean, you just got out of prison! You need space, right?"
That was a valid point, but not one he'd considered. "I believe our current arrangement provides me with sufficient breathing room, Athena."
"So I guess we keep on going just like we have been?" Her tone was light, but Widget still showed sadness.
"I believe a few changes might not go amiss," he said. How to move closer to her without seeming to lurch or lunge? He moved the forgotten takoyaki to the grass by his side.
And she extended her hand, setting it on the grass between him. He reached out to cover it with his.
"I guess it's like Pearly keeps saying to me — you and I are practically dating already," she said. "It's just that now we both know it."
"Holding hands is new," he pointed out.
"There are a couple other things we could add in, too," she suggested. "You know. When you're ready."
"I choose to believe you're referring to kissing," he said. "It takes a man of my advanced age some time to adjust to changes, Athena."
"Kissing works for now!" she exclaimed. He wasn't expecting her to rise up on her knees again and lean forward, too hastily for him to react, but she was smiling too broadly for the kiss to be more than a chaste collision of lips.
So, it appeared, was he.