Chapter Text
Makoto trudged up the steps to his apartment, heaving a sigh of exhaustion. In the dark of night, he fumbled with his keys before finally turning the lock and stepping inside. At this rate, he wasn't even going to take off his suit before he flopped into bed.
"Edamame, welcome home!" Makoto's face scrunched up in agitation as he kicked off his shoes. He didn't even need to look up to know who was waiting for him.
"What could you possibly want, Laurent?" He groaned as he flicked on the lights. Laurent stood from his seat on the floor, and Makoto had to stop himself from telling Laurent off about shoes in the house again. He was too tired to fight with the blond asshole right now.
"My dear Edamame, I haven't seen you in days! That's no way to greet your favorite confidence man, now is it?" Laurent strolled over to Makoto, arms stretched wide. He quickly stepped to the side to avoid being suffocated by Laurent and his overly-strong cologne. Laurent eyed him and made a mock pouty face, lowering his arms and stepping back to lean against the wall. Laurent looked down at Makoto with a stupid smirk still plastered on his face.
"Laurent, I thought you weren't going to come here anymore. At least, not until the end of the con." Makoto strode past him and began to loosen his tie. "Whatever you wanna say, make it quick, I'm tired."
"Hmm yes, it does look like you have seen better days… Well no such issue! I wanted to tell you about a change in plans in person." Makoto shrugged off his blazer and turned to face Laurent, irritation written all over his face.
"And this couldn't be a phone call? Or you had to come lie to my face in person?"
"I just wanted to see you!" Laurent said with a grin, ignoring the latter question. This earned him a glare and a certain finger stuck up in his face. "Oh Edamame, I'm just messing with you. It was important enough that I needed to come here, no need to get all worked up over me." Makoto said nothing, instead choosing to turn around and slide off his collared shirt.
"I know we haven't told you much but I think it's best that you understand what the next steps have to be. I trust that you can keep it together for the remainder of this." Laurent gazed at Makoto's bare back through half-lidded eyes before taking a deep breath and continuing. "We were initially planning to get Akemi and Lu off to a remote island and make off with their money, as you may have realized by now." Laurent sat back down against the wall as Makoto hummed a noise of recognition. He made no attempt to look at Laurent while he tugged on an oversized tee shirt.
"Unfortunately, the island is no longer… available to us. We're going to need you to extract the money personally. We will continue convincing them that they will be meeting to exchange the companies. We will have them meet at a middle ground in Seoul, and on the way to said meeting we will take the check and the cash." Makoto looked over his shoulder and gave Laurent an unreadable look. He stared right at Laurent, eyes dark. Makoto looked as if he was trying to see the wall behind him rather than actually looking at him.
Laurent huffed out a sigh and continued: "While Akemi is in Seoul, we will have Shi-won and Kudo extract the kids from Suzaku. Do you understand what this entails for you?"
"You need me to somehow grab the check from Akemi without her noticing, and then make it out of there. You want Akemi to assume Lu took it, and vice versa for Lu." Makoto unfastened his belt and hung it over a nearby chair. "You want to take their money, then let them take each other down." Laurent ran a hand through his hair, and cracked a mischievous smile.
"Bright as always my little soybean. Yes, you need to grab the check and somehow pin it on Lu. I will do the same and make Lu believe it was Akemi. Once they are busy with each other, we will each make our escape. I've left everything you need in your kitchen drawer-"
"You went through my drawers?!" Makoto yelps as he turns around, pants half off. He jumps with realization as a blush creeps up his cheeks, quickly turning back around to put on his pajama pants. Laurent thunks his head against the wall and shuts his eyes.
"Relax, it's not like you have anything but spare lighters and a few coins in there anyway." Makoto can feel a familiar headache clawing its way in behind his eyes. He presses his fingers against his temples and saunters past Laurent toward his bed.
"Goodnight Laurent." Makoto says, completely deadpan. With a yawn he peels back the covers and starts to climb into his bed. "Make sure you lock the door behind you, please." Laurent reached out and cracks open the old door.
"Goodnight Edamame," he hummed into the cool night air. Makoto heard the lock click and promptly sunk into his sheets. The lack of heat in his apartment was biting tonight, and he started wide-eyed at his ceiling. He had to come up with exactly how he was going to slide the check away without Akemi noticing. Makoto knew he was never any good without a solid plan. He couldn't wing it like Laurent or Abi could, and he certainly wasn't a smooth talker like Cynthia. He sat upright in bed, his mind was running too fast for him to be able to sleep at all.
He wrapped his blanket around his shoulders and padded toward his window. Did Laurent bring me on just to mess with me? He worked with my – with Oz. I don't understand why he drags me around like this. He reaches for the table below the window and grabs a packet of Caster Menthol Cigarettes. There's only two left, he would have to grab another one from his drawer soon. He sparked his lighter to life and watched the end of the cigarette glow warmly against the cool night. Makoto drew the small stick up to his lips and inhaled deeply, before blowing off the smoke into the darkness.
Surely Laurent must get a kick out of seeing me flail my way through cons, and then dragging me back in every time. The packet of Casters crinkled lightly in his grip. I've really had enough this time. When this is all done I'm not going back. Makoto leaned back and shut his eyes, drawing in another breath of smoke. But am I any different from him? From my father? What would I do with myself if not conning people?
He opened his eyes and watched the street below. A man walked down the street, his hand interlocked with that of a woman next to him. They both grinned and laughed, their voices just barely audible above the drone of the city.
"I don't know how to live if I'm not deceiving people." He whispered to the night. With one last draw of his cigarette, the menthol filled his lungs as he flicked the ash out the window. He pushed the window closed and snuffed out his cigarette into the ashtray resting on the windowsill. He flopped back down into his bed, shivering slightly from the cold. He curled up on his side and tried to pretend he couldn't feel the cold that had been taking up residence in his bones all these years.
Two days. Two days until his do or die. Makoto was awake long before his alarm got a chance to ever go off.
The morning sun shone through the window, dancing warmly on his exposed skin. For just a second, before he opened his eyes, he pretended that he was resting back in his own bedroom. Before he had met anyone from team confidence, back in his bedroom and willing his father to come home for once. Home. Despite it being a Saturday, he still had things he needed to do. No point in sleeping in and wasting the day away, no matter how much he wanted to just roll over and go back to his restless sleep.
He pulled himself out from under the blanket, feeling the cool air mingle with the warm sun shining down on him. He stepped toward his kitchen and eyed the instant coffee hesitantly. Maybe today I'll treat myself to some real coffee. He backed away from the kitchen and toward his closet. He didn't have to think much about what he was going to wear. All he had in the drawer were two sweaters, a pair of jeans, and a handful of underwear and socks. It's not like he ever did anything but go to work and go to sleep anyway.
He opted for a navy pullover and his only pair of jeans, slightly too loose around the waist. It was no matter, these clothes would be left behind here at the end of the con anyway. Hastily, he brushed his teeth without glancing up at himself in the mirror. He could tell from just how heavy his eyes felt that the dark circles lapping at the edges of his eyes were as bad as ever. He was sure his hair stuck out in every conceivable direction too, but it's not like he was seeing anyone today anyway.
He shoved his feet into his work shoes and stepped out into the cool spring day. He had lost his pair of sneakers, and at this point, he was just asking to get blisters. He trailed down the road, not even looking twice at the capsule machines. I need to get some food for the next three days… and another pack of cigarettes… He meandered aimlessly toward the convenience store that was just a few blocks from his apartment.
What do I need to do to pull this off? Laurent left me with some sedatives and a fake check, but it would probably be easier to switch it without knocking anyone out. The wind blew and Makoto drew his arms closer around his body. I'll have to tell Akemi that the meeting is in Seoul now too. He tugged out his phone from his back pocket before promptly remembering that he does in fact not have Akemi's number. Does she even have a phone?
Makoto sighed and raised his hand to hail a cab – a little trip to her home would be nice anyway.
While the cab went down Akemi's long driveway, Makoto glanced at his watch. She would likely be up soon. He thanked the cab driver and let himself into her home using the door code she had told him before. After removing his shoes, he quickly went over to the kitchen and began to prepare coffee.
A new shipment of coffee beans from Venezuela had come yesterday afternoon, so he began to grind them up while humming absentmindedly. He glanced around her home, noticing that at this point the small cat figurines he bought her were all over. I should have grabbed another for her on my way here. The sun began to rise, warming the still air in Akemi's home. Makoto sighed and let the light calm the dull hum beneath his skin. I shouldn't smoke inside Akemi's house. I don't think she'd mind but-
"Makoto?" He jumped at the sudden noise, coffee cup clinking in his hand. "Oh good, I thought it was you." Akemi rounded the corner into the kitchen, a warm smile crinkling her eyes.
"Good morning ma'am. I hope you don't mind my sudden intrusion. I have coffee for you, it's a new roast." Makoto poured the steaming brew into her cup, the one with the little cat on it.
"I never mind when it's you." Akemi settled herself on her oversized sofa, Makoto trailing behind her with the cup in hand.
"This one comes from Venezuela. Let me know what you think." Makoto settled into the chair across from her, holding his head in his hands.
"I wouldn't know good coffee from bad, but I always love yours." Makoto couldn't help but smile a bit. Birds chirped softly outside, just slightly out of view from the wide windows. This place made Makoto forget all about his cold apartment with its creaky doors and drafty windows. Sometimes, he wished he could just stay here forever – or at least until the con finished.
"Ma'am, I just got word from Shanghai that they would like to hand over the shares in Seoul rather than here, just to be on neutral ground."
"Hmm… That's fine, I suppose. What do you make of it, Makoto?"
"Well I think it's a reasonable request, but I would be careful to make sure they're not up to anything. If you'd like I can search the area beforehand-"
"I appreciate your concern, but there is no need. I trust they will not do anything like that." Akemi sipped her coffee and the two sat in silence for a bit. Honestly, it reminded Makoto a bit of his time with his mother, when she was in the hospital. Sometimes, he would just sit there while she slept, watching her chest rise and fall. Something about the cool spring air just made him nostalgic, really.
"Sorry I spoke so hastily just now, Makoto. Perhaps I am just a little stressed by the whole ordeal." Akemi's voice snapped Makoto back to the present, and he sat up straighter in his seat.
"No, it's fine. It was out of line for me to push the issue like that anyway ma'am." Makoto lowered his eyes and examined his old socks. A hole was starting to form at the top of his right sock. Perhaps he would have to get new ones soon.
"Makoto… I think I'd like to retire soon." He looked up to meet Akemi's eyes once again. Makoto just hummed in acknowledgement and nodded. "Would you ever… would you come with me? We can go wherever you want, Makoto. I just think I'd like it if you stayed with me. Oh, but don't feel pressured. I'm happy so long as your happy-"
"I'd love to. Er- I mean, as long as you'd have me…" Makoto felt a similar warmth dance on the tips of his ears. He smiled sheepishly, running a hand through his hair.
"Maybe after the Shanghai transaction, we can talk more. Thank you for always being here for me. Can I tell you something in earnest?"Makoto absentmindedly picked at a hangnail on his thumb.
"Please, speak as freely as you'd wish ma'am."
"You remind me a bit of my son. Before he ran off to America, that is." Akemi set down her empty cup and turned to watch the trees outside. "He was so gentle back then. Alas, he met a woman while he was in the States. Ever since then, he only reaches out when he needs money. I know I shouldn't support him anymore, but it would hurt me too much to just let him go entirely." She turned to face Makoto, eyes soft. She hadn't put on any of her usual makeup yet, and her eyes wrinkled lightly around the edges. "I think you helped me fill the hole he left in my heart. Is that too much to say, Makoto?"
"No I… I get it." He glanced at his hands again. He opened his mouth to say something else, then closed it again. "I'm sorry, but I think I should get going soon. I'm meeting some friends later so…" Makoto trailed off as he stood, bowing curtly before setting off towards the door.
"It's no trouble at all. Thank you for coming to see me. Have a nice time with your friends, you deserve a day off." Akemi didn't move from her seat, instead just closing her eyes. Makoto thudded soundlessly back to the front door, slid on his old loafers, and silently exited the house. Once outside, he began to wander. The sun had just barely risen, and he didn't know what to do with himself. After his quick trip to the market, he would have nothing to do. Well, that's a problem for later anyway.
Back in his apartment, Makoto dropped his bags with a thunk on his kitchen counter. Two plastic bags, one full of instant coffee and microwave dinners, the other with as many packs of Caster menthol cigarettes as the store clerk would let him have and a case of six beers. Before he even put the groceries – if you can even call them that – away, he had cracked open a beer. It was barely midday, but Makoto could not be bothered to do anything with the rest of the day.
He wandered into his sleeping-dining-living room and plunked down in the one chair he had, cigarette in one hand and can of beer in the other. He picked up the TV remote and clicked to some mindless reality show. Mom used to like watching these when she was sick. Must've taken her mind off of reality. And so Makoto turned up the volume a little too loud and took another swig of beer.
He couldn't help but think about this con. No matter how many times Laurent had managed to rope him back into his shit show, he wouldn't let it happen again. It's not like he even tells me anything. Actually, who's to say what he told me last night was the truth anyhow? I'm sure he'd love to see me crash and burn and come crawling back like I always do. Makoto jammed the volume up button on the remote, but it still made no sound over his own thoughts.
His skin buzzed like he needed another smoke, despite the fact that a lit cigarette hung from between his lips right now. He had hardly realized it, but at some point the sun had set beyond the horizon. His small apartment was cast into darkness, save for the harsh glow of the TV. Makoto snuffed out another cigarette in his now overflowing ashtray and added a fourth beer can to the growing pile on the floor.
His eyes felt heavy — maybe from the alcohol, or maybe something else entirely — but he could hardly bring himself to even move to his bed. He knew if he went to bed now, he would be in for another sleepless night at the mercy of his own mind. So he reached for a fifth can, letting the bittersweet liquid lull the tide in his head to a halt.
Makoto had no idea when, but at some point he had crawled over to the bathroom and was now laying against the cold tiles. He shivered, suddenly all too aware of how little his boxers and worn out T-shirt were doing for retaining warmth. He attempted to stand, having to grasp the edge of the counter for stability.
Based on the sting that lingered in the back of his throat, he must have thrown up at some point. As he made an attempt to get back to bed, Makoto caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror.
His eyes were sunken in, a deep purple-ish blue ring clung to the bottoms of his eyes, his bangs glued to his forehead with sweat. Makoto eyed this thing that stared back in the mirror. He blinked slowly and drank in the image, despite the fact that he would surely not remember this come morning.
This was it. His life. His choices that led him here, to smoking nearly a pack a day and living by himself. Something wet dripped on to his hand, and when he glanced back up the young boy in the mirror was crying. In the small child's hands was a letter to his father, the same one who had just gone to prison. The boy made no sound, just wept.
Makoto blinked again and the boy had vanished. He stumbled back into his living room, tripping over a can or two as he made his way towards the bed. It would have been nice if he had brushed his teeth to at least rid his mouth of the foul taste that remained in his mouth, but he could hardly find a reason to bring himself back into the bathroom.
Makoto pulled up the covers to his chin, shaking so hard his teeth chattered. Everything felt so right. He knew he was miserable, there was no other word for it. But there was something safe about it, knowing that he deserved this, because this was all he had ever known. Before he could think too hard about it, the noise of the TV blaring faded into a fuzzy hum, and he felt so, so warm.
Holy shit.
Makoto awoke to his head feeling like it was being slammed into a wall repeatedly. He could hear his own pulse in his ears, and with each thump a wave of pain washed over his head — and nausea.
He sprung out of bed and skittered off to the bathroom and barely made it to the toilet before throwing up. He sat there on the tile, hunched over the porcelain bowl for a few minutes , heaving up whatever remained of last night's dinner. His seemingly endless retching did nothing to help the pounding behind his eyes.
When he was finally confident that there could be nothing left in his stomach, he sat back and took a deep breath. He could still hear the TV playing, and it certainly wasn't helping his head. He pulled himself to his feet, and searched his medicine cabinet for anything he could take that might mitigate the migraine brewing.
To his surprise, he found a bottle of probably expired Tylenol sitting on the shelf. I don't think I'm supposed to take anything on an empty stomach, but honestly I don't think I have it in me to eat right now. He shook five little white pills out of the bottle and swallowed them dry before meandering over to the living room to shut off the TV
Finally in silence, Makoto breathed a sigh of relief. It would be a while before the Tylenol kicked in, but it wouldn't hurt to at least clean up a little.
He picked up the overflowing ash tray and dumped it into the trashcan, then collected the cans to bring out to the recycling bin later. Only when the Tylenol started to take effect and Makoto really start to wake up did he realize how disgusting he felt. He hadn't taken a shower yesterday, and after sweating all night, he felt seriously gross.
He peeled off his sweat soaked T-shirt and boxers, stepping into the shower. The water started out cold, but Makoto was suddenly all too desperate to wash off the all the grime. As the shower heated up, Makoto let the warmth seep into his bones as the water washed away yesterday's sins.
With a towel wrapped around his waist, he scrubbed at his teeth. The thumping behind his eyes had diminished greatly, and he felt that he should make some attempt to have a better day than yesterday. Then it all came back to him.
The Blond Asshole changed the plan on me again. I don't even really know what's going on, but I'm sure I have to get Akemi and Ishigami ready to go to Seoul. At least I already told Akemi about it, and I'm sure she'll tell Lu too.
Makoto spat in the sink and rinsed his mouth. A small splatter of red ran down the side of the sink alongside his toothpaste. I should probably floss more…
All Makoto had to do today was think. It's not like anyone would be stopping by his house, and he would rather die than go back to the office right now. What's the best way for me to swap that check without anyone noticing?
Makoto chewed at his nail while eyeing himself in the mirror. I should've spent more time planning this. Actually, I should've just stayed at home. Fucking Laurent. No, it's my fault for- Makoto paused as the taste of iron filled his mouth. He glanced down to see blood beginning to trickle down his thumb. With a sigh, he took another band-aid out of his drawer and hastily wrapped it around his finger. He would have to get more of these too.
No use worrying about it too much. It always works out. Makoto trudged over to his closet, exchanging his towel for a pair of well worn cotton pants and T-shirt that hung a little too loose on his frame.
Once he was dry, he went into his kitchen to survey what Laurent had brought him. In his drawer was a small amber-colored bottle and a replica check addressed to Akemi. Not giving me much to work with here, huh?
All he would have to do was pour a little of the clear liquid from the bottle into their drinks. Coffee would be easiest for Akemi. Maybe I'll use a bottle of water at the airport for Lu… Once they were both out, he just had to swap the check and let them proceed to Seoul as planned to exchange the fake check for fake stocks.
I don't know what Laurent is going to do here, but I trust he can pull it off. I've never seen him screw up. That bastard can talk his way out of anything. Makoto slammed the drawer shut in a quick movement before moving back toward his bed.
He flopped down and stared up at his ceiling. Small gray patches from water stains had begun to form above the head of his bed. It's not like he would be here much longer anyway.
I don't understand what it is about Laurent. How he's always so well composed. I don't think I've ever seen him upset. Is he even human? Makoto sighed and turned on his side. I sure hope he didn't treat Dorothy how he treats me. But not like I would know because nobody ever wants to talk about the oh-so-great Dorothy!
He sat upright, his skin buzzing as loud as his head did. He needed a cigarette. Peeling himself away from his mattress he called a bed, he grabbed a fresh pack of Casters off the table and made his way over to the window.
Makoto cupped his hand around at end of the cigarette as the lighter flicked to life. With a deep inhale, he felt the itch beneath his skin die down. He let the cigarette hang loose between his fingers as the cold air sneaked it's way down the back of his shirt. Resting his cheek against his palm, he stared out into the street.
He didn't sleep much these days, and when he did he woke up so often it's like he didn't even sleep in the first place. I should actually try and sleep tonight. Maybe I'll take some melatonin. I can't be dragging down everyone like usual tomorrow.
Frankly, when this was all over, he wanted nothing more than to give Laurent and the rest of them a piece of his mind. He was so fed up with being dragged around and always coming second to a girl he had never met. They all treated him like he was stupid, but they kept him around. And to find out they had been working with his father all these years?
Makoto sucked in another drag of his cigarette a little too hard. He coughed into his fist and took a deep breath of air before tapping the ash off the end of the cigarette.
If he had the energy, he would certainly try to fuck over the rest of them, at least once. Make them feel the fear of the unknown he had felt working with them for all these years. He needed them to understand what it was like to feel like a stranger in your own life. But right now, he just wanted to crawl back into bed and never wake up.
And so he did. He put out his cigarette and drew the shade on the window. Burying his face in his pillow, he tried to drown out the sounds of life coming through his thin walls. He hadn't even looked at the clock yet today, but he was sure it was sometime in the afternoon.
He felt a pang of guilt for waking up just to go back to sleep. His mother would hate to see him waste a perfectly good day like this. Instead of dwelling on it, he just shut his eyes harder and prayed that tomorrow wouldn't come so fast for once.
Makoto woke to his sheets wrapped tightly around his body, sticking to his slightly damp skin. He had no idea what time it was, but judging by the fact that he couldn't tell the difference between when his eyes were opened or closed he figured it was too early for him to be getting up anyway.
Rolling on to his side and blindly grasping at his bed side table he grabbed his phone. The screen glowed brightly, reading 4:37 AM. He flopped back against his pillow and sighed loudly. Today was going to be a long day.
He knew he wouldn't be falling asleep again, but just lying down and feeling the minute tick by calmed him. No matter what this is it. I'm done after this. One last push until I earn my freedom. Even if he wasn't sure how he was going to pull this off, he was sure of that.
His morning routine was the same as every other day, only this time with a weight off of his shoulders. A quick shower, brush his teeth, smoke a cigarette while waiting for his coffee to brew. He still had 5 packets of instant coffee left. I won't need these when I go home. He tossed the remainder of the packets into the trash can, and swallowed the murky coffee as quick as he could.
He put on his slightly crinkled suit, made a rather vain attempt to slick back his hair, threw on his shoes and made his way out the door. He didn't even have to glance at his watch to know he would still be the first person at the office.
As he walked the streets, the morning breeze brushed up against his face, turning his cheeks slightly pink. It wasn't cold enough to warrant a jacket, but it still wasn't warm. A soft pink light flittered through the small gaps in the tall skyscrapers as the sun began to peek over the horizon.
Yeah. This is it.
Makoto was sifting through papers at his desk when Akemi and Lu strolled into the office. Seeing them made the small bottle in his breast pocket feel heavy against his chest. With a quick inhale, he smiled and gave a small bow.
"Good morning Edamura. I trust you have sorted everything out for Miss Suzaku's meeting with Shanghai today, correct?" Lu asked, taking off his blazer.
"Yes, sir. The flight will be leaving at 12:30 this afternoon and your meeting will be at 6. I've already arranged for the cab to and from the airport as well as a hotel in Seoul for the transaction to take place." Akemi walked to office, Lu and Makoto in tow.
"I'm happy for you to finally take down Shanghai once and for all, ma'am." Makoto said as he pushed open the large doors to her office. The three of them stepped inside, and Makoto felt like he needed to crawl out of his skin.
The time between stepping foot into the office and stepping back out felt like a blink. Makoto only really came to his senses as he walked up the steps onto the small aircraft, and the pit that seemed to coil in his stomach during every con worked it's way back in.
"Would you both like some champagne?" Makoto asked, poking his head into the cabin.
"That would be lovely, Makoto. Two glasses, please." Akemi hummed in response. She smiled warmly while she looked at him, her eyes crinkling ever so slightly at the edges. Makoto tried not to feel her gaze, but underneath his facade for the con, something else was there.
Someone who hadn't been looked at with so much love in so many years. A mother without her son and a son without his mother. His hand trembled as he unscrewed the champagne cork and reach into his coat pocket.
She traffics children. She killed Dorothy. She deserves this. She deserves this.
Makoto breathes and measures the clear liquid into both flutes, followed by the bubbly champagne. He swirled both glasses and brought them out to Akemi and Lu.
"Makoto? What's the matter? You're shaking." Akemi took the flute from him, lightly grasping his hand.
"Ah it's nothing, I just get a bit nervous flying — that's all." Makoto glanced down and bowed, not meeting her eyes.
Makoto jumped slightly as his phone buzzed in his pocket. "I'm sorry — I need to take this." He said as he scrambled to the bathroom on the plane.
Once he shut and locked the door behind him, he answered the phone. Of course, it was the blond asshole.
"Hello?"
"Bonjour, Edamame! I hope I'm not interrupting anything too important, yes?"
"No, but the plane is about to take off though, so please keep this quick"
"Ah, sweet as ever. I can practically see you glaring at me through the phone. I just wanted to make sure everything is going as it should be, yes?"
"Yes. I just gave them their drinks. We should be there in about 2 hours or so, assuming everything goes as planned. Is everything good on your end?"
"Of course it is. You just worry about yourself okay?"
"Yeah. Sure."
…
"Bye Laurent."
"Goodb-"
Makoto stared into the mirror. In about an hour Akemi and Lu would both be knocked out, and he could safely switch the check as well as redirect the plane to the island as they had planned.
He smoothed back his hair and took a deep breath before stepping back into the cabin, smile plastered on his face.
"My apologies ma'am, my relative in America wanted to give me a call to check up on me." Makoto sat across from them, settling in for a long flight. He checked his watch, silently. If they both drank the entire flute in the next 5 minutes they would be out in 15 minutes instead of an hour.
"Edamura, I grabbed you a glass of champagne as well." Lu slid a glass across the small table. "Drink up, we have a while until we land" He said with a smile.
"Sure, thank you." Makoto picked up it and drank it in just a few gulps. This is as good as done. If they see me drinking this quick, they probably will too.
Just as he had hoped, Akemi and Lu both finished their glasses as well. Now it was just a matter of minutes until the hard part was over. Makoto leaned back and engaged in small talk, expecting that his boring conversation would will them to sleep faster.
What he didn't expect was for him to start feeling drowsy himself. His vision began to blur and fade, while his mind struggled to churn out a single coherent thought. He tried to stand but quickly fell back into his seat.
Makoto blinked rapidly and tried to open his mouth to say something, anything, but no words came out. Through the haze he could barely make it out:
"So you did put something in the drink…"
His heart hammered in his chest and his vision swam. He felt himself shake and try again and again to speak, but in the end all he could see was black.
Makoto awoke again, his entire body feeling heavy and his head pounding. He was lying on the hard floor, something wet and salty spraying against his face. He struggled to open his eyes against the bright light.
"Look who's up" Makoto couldn't see just yet, but he could hear Lu. It hit him all too quickly where he was.
Makoto forced his eyes open and he sat up to find weights strapped to his chest, and his hands and feet tied behind his back. His heart sunk. This was it.