Phoenix Wright / Gyakuten Saiban, its settings and characters, are property of Capcom, and are being used here without permission.  This fic is R for now but that might change later.

 

 

Well Frogs

Chapter 4

 

 

 

Makoto sat perched on the edge of her stool, staring at the door.

 

It was approaching the time when Takita and Odoroki had promised to arrive, to take her out for the afternoon.  Now that there was nothing for her to do but wait, she was starting to have second thoughts.  In her stomach twisted the same fear that had always been there, which had nearly prevented her from accepting even Odoroki's invitation the Friday before.  The outside world was a foreign place to her, and every step she took into it was a fight against her most basic instincts.

 

Makoto took in a deep breath, slowly, and let it out.  Her eyes flickered back to her desk, where a glass bottle had once stood.  She missed it.  She knew it was a foolish sentiment, considering it was that very object that had nearly killed her not long ago; but she could not help remembering how it had calmed her.  Her faith in that simple clear liquid had at one time put to rest all the horrible workings of her imagination. Now, she did not even have her father's gentle voice as substitute.

 

There was one thing, however, that she had found would ease the fearful tension which curled incessantly between her shoulders.  It was precisely that which she was waiting for with the most expectation.

 

The knock came.  With concentrated effort Makoto stood, and walked four short paces to the door.  A long look through the peephole confirmed her hopes, so that her hands only trembled a little as she unlatched and opened the door.

 

"Hi."  Odoroki smiled and stepped inside.  It was the first time she had seen him in anything other than a suit: today he was wearing jeans, and his T-shirt was green instead of red.  That did not deter her a moment from obeying her first impulse, which was to reach for and clasp his hand with both of hers.

 

"Hello," Makoto greeted softly.

 

Odoroki glanced down at the grip she suddenly had on him, but like the day before he did not question it.  It was a great relief--she wasn't sure she could explain to him how important the contact was to her, if he had asked her to.  "Looks like I beat Takita here," he said instead.  "Are you ready?  He probably won't be long."

 

Makoto glanced away.  "Can I…bring my drawing pad?" she asked.  "Would that be rude?"

 

"No, I'm sure it wouldn't be."

 

"Okay…."  Makoto let go of him with one hand, though she refused to release him entirely as she turned to stretch for her familiar pad.  With it clasped to her chest, and Odoroki still attached to her arm, she finally started to believe that this was a good idea.

 

"Helloooo, Mako!"  Takita peeked through the half-open door a moment later, all smiles.  "Here I am!  I hope you had a light breakfast, because…"  He happened to glance down, and noticed their joined hands.  With a sudden frown he stepped inside.  "…because I have a big lunch ready."

 

"I had milk," Makoto reported.

 

"Just milk?  I didn't mean that light."  He held out his hand.  "Let's go so we can get some food in you."

 

Makoto stared down at the offered hand--both of hers were full.  She wanted to tell him "no thank you" and simply stay with Odoroki, but there was a strange look on his face.  It reminded her of the way her father had sometimes stared at a half finished painting, mumbling under his breath about something not being right.

 

Am I not right?  Makoto blinked slowly, and carefully let go of Odoroki's hand.  For a moment the sound of car horns from the road outside filled her delicate ears, and then she reached forward, closing her fingers this time around Takita's.

 

Takita's grin returned, and he gave her a light squeeze.  "You can ride in the back, with me," he said as he began to tug her outside.

 

Makoto dragged her feet a little, but Takita was very insistent, and soon she found herself on the sidewalk.  The city was bustling in the early afternoon, and she drew closer to Takita's side reflexively.  He's perfectly safe, she told herself, remembering Odoroki's original introduction.  I'm safe with him.  Even with her chin tucked against her chest her eyes had to adjust quickly to the outdoor lighting, and she gave a quiet sneeze.

 

"Awww."  Takita laughed.  "That was adorable.  Bless you."

 

Makoto blushed.  "Excuse me."

 

Things seemed like they were going better than she had anticipated, until her third visitor came into view.  As she was led toward the car parked nearby, her sight was filled suddenly with the tall and imposing figure of a dark-eyed stranger.  The broadness of his shoulders and sour curl of his wide mouth caused her to flinch back in alarm.  He's one of the bad people--

 

Odoroki took her shoulders from behind, and that reassurance kept her panic down enough that she didn't try to bolt straight for her door.  "It's okay," he told her quickly.  "He's a friend of Takita's--he won't hurt you."

 

"Who, Tsudzuo?"  Takita glanced between her and the tall man.  "Ugly, ain't he?" he chuckled.

 

Makoto shivered, and managed to meet his thin gaze.  She swallowed hard.  She ought to greet him--it was only polite, if he was indeed a friend.  But she couldn't find her voice, let alone use it, and only stared back like a frozen animal.

 

"I'm sorry," Tsudzuo grunted.  He opened the car door for them.  "For scaring you."

 

"Come on--don't worry about him," Takita urged.  It took his and Odoroki's encouragement to get Makoto into the car.  "He's not the prettiest guy around, but you're safer with him than you are with anyone."

 

"Safe…?"  Makoto kept a tight grip on Takita's hand, which made it a bit difficult, but finally she was seated in the back with him.  Odoroki moved around to the passenger seat, and the sight of his little hair spikes peeking out over the top of the headrest reassured her.

 

Tsudzuo closed her door and took his seat as well.  As the car pulled away from the curb, Makoto was careful to keep her gaze trained forward.  Though the motion did make her uncomfortable, it was better than looking outside, seeing all the people milling about, bumping into each other, chatting and swearing and--

 

She squeezed Takita's hand more tightly.  His was different that Odoroki's: his skin was rough, and his palm was sweaty, and his fingers were chubby.  But his hand was also strong, and it was that aspect which was most important to her.  Outside of her tiny home there was so much to see and experience--and be wary of--that she felt like she was in danger of being churned up in all the fumbling chaos.  She needed that hand, like an anchor, to root her to solid earth.

 

"Hey."  Takita squeezed her back, and she glanced carefully over.  He was watching her with awkward concern.  "Are you…really scared?"  When Makoto nodded faintly he frowned for a moment, and then scooted closer.

 

"It's okay," he assured her.  "I'm looking after you."

 

Makoto nodded again.  She believed him, but making her heart do the same was not as simple.

 

*****

 

The Kitaki household was nothing like Makoto had expected.  In her limited experience of people and their dwellings, she had come to assume that each home in some way was shaped and influenced by its occupant, the way the studio had always felt warm and weary like her father had.  She saw nothing of Takita in the long, painted walls and slanted, traditional roofs.  The stone walkways, twisted trees, and wooden veranda reminded her of some old period drama rather than their bright and temperamental owner.  It was like stepping into a painting she might have copied once.  She liked it immediately.

 

They were greeted at the entranceway by the largest woman Makoto had ever met, who was introduced to her as Takita's mother, Koume.  Having even less experience with mothers than she did travel, Makoto could only stare at the woman awkwardly and hope for the best.  Koume looked her over, critically at first, but soon Makoto was able to see the family resemblance when the woman grinned.

 

"Aren't you a little darling!" she said brightly.  "Takita can bring home some strange company sometimes, but look at you--cuter than a puppy.  What's your name, hm?"

 

Koume was at least less intimidating than their driver had been, and Makoto only needed a moment to rally herself before answering.  "Makoto Ese, Ma'am."

 

"Pleased to meet you, dear.  Come on, come in!"  She stepped back to give them all room.  "I'm afraid our usual guest slippers are a mite too big for a little thing like you, but I hope they'll do."

 

The slippers really were rather large on Makoto, but at least they were worn in, and soft.  "I'm fine," she assured as they each slipped into a pair.  Once she had stepped up onto the polished hardwood of the home's interior, she felt a rush of relief: she was inside now.  She had made it.

 

"We're gonna eat in my room, Mom," Takita told her, already starting to pull Makoto in that direction.

 

Koume gave a sigh of exasperation and let them pass.  "Well all right.  I'll bring it over in just a minute."

 

"Thank you very much, Mrs. Kitaki," Odoroki said politely, bowing his head a bit.

 

"Oh, anything for you, Mr. Odoroki."  Koume headed off with her good humor restored.

 

Takita's room was a bit more like him than the rest of the house: though it was just as traditional in its structure, with sliding doors and tatami floors, a TV and other electronics were scattered about, and a few band posters were tacked to the walls.  "This is my room," Takita declared.  He finally was forced to let go of Makoto's hand as he moved to the wall, pulling some cushions out of a cabinet to toss around.  "What do you think?  Tiny, huh?"

 

"It's about half the size of my entire apartment," Odoroki replied with a self conscious wince.

 

Makoto glanced around.  "It's…tidy," she complimented.  Her father's small room always had clothing visible somewhere, or newspapers, or a discarded coffee mug.  At least…it had once.

 

"Of course!  I knew you were coming."  Takita flopped down onto the cushions and waved for them to join him.  "Can't have a sloppy room when your lady's coming over."

 

Your lady?  Makoto stared at him quizzically as she sat down.  Oh.  He means me.  "Thank you…?"

 

Odoroki made some kind of little noise, and she was still trying to puzzle out what it meant when Koume entered with the promised lunch.  It was a spectacle like nothing she'd seen, Koume coming in with a pair of huge platters and bottles of iced tea under her arms.  Odoroki jumped to help her, and earned her praise for it, while Makoto could only stare as the meal was displayed.  There was rice, with and without various seasonings; pickled plums and radishes; fresh carrots and spring pea pods; hard boiled eggs sliced and arranged in a fan around pieces of grilled chicken; and to Makoto's delight, slices of tuna cut in the shapes of…little tuna.

 

"Oh…wow," Odoroki said in amazement.  He passed out the bottled tea.  "This is…it's too much!"

 

"Well, it's nice that someone notices!" Koume said, shooting a look at her son.  He rolled his eyes and uncapped his drink.  "But don't you worry, it's the least I can do.  You should see my dinners!"  She laughed heartily.

 

Makoto leaned forward, still holding her drawing pad to her chest as she looked over every fine detail of the immaculately crafted lunch.  "It's…beautiful."

 

Koume laughed again.  "Thank you, dear.  Now eat up!  I'm sure you don't want to end up my size, but a little extra fat on you wouldn't hurt!"

 

"Mom," Takita protested.

 

"All right, I'm going."  Koume slipped out of the room once more.  "Enjoy your lunch."

 

Takita snapped up one of the three pairs of chopsticks, and started to dig in, but stopped when he noticed Makoto hadn't moved to do the same.  "Mako?"  He poked her knee.

 

"I…can't."

 

"Huh?"

 

"Is something wrong?" Odoroki asked.

 

Makoto gulped, and lifted her eyes to them.  "It's too pretty to ruin."

 

Takita rolled his eyes.  "Oh come on, it's not that amazing."

 

"It's the most beautiful lunch I've ever seen," Makoto said, her voice full of wonder.  She bit her lip--it would take too long for her to draw it in the kind of detail she would have liked, and the thought of it spoiling, never to fulfill its purpose, was even more upsetting than having to eat it.

 

"Fine, here."  Takita reached into his jacket and pulled out his cell phone, standing up so he could take a proper picture.  He showed it off to her for her approval.  "I'll email it to you, okay?"

 

Makoto could tell that he thought she was being silly, but it was still a well-appreciated gesture all the same.  Finally, she set her drawing pad aside, and smiled up at him.  "Thank you."

 

Takita's cheeks turned a little red as he dropped back onto his cushion.  "Sure."

 

Makoto reached for the eggs first.  She quickly found that the beautiful lunch tasted as wonderful as it looked: everything was fresh, and crisp, and perfectly seasoned.  Forgetting her concerns about having to destroy the artistry in order to enjoy it, she sampled one of everything, savoring each bite.

 

It wasn't until after she'd finished her initial pass and reached for another piece of tuna that she realized the boys were both watching her.  She quickly pressed a hand over her mouth, fearful that she had made a mess of her face.  "Is something…?"

 

Takita coughed lightly into his fist, his eyes thin as he grinned at her.  "Sorry.  You're just…really cute, when you eat."

 

"I am…?"  Makoto blinked down at the platters, and picked up a carrot disk for one dainty bite.  "Like…that?"

 

Takita nearly squealed, which was about the strangest reaction she'd ever caused someone.  Even Odoroki was blushing a little.  She didn't really understand what it was they thought was so endearing about her simply enjoying the food, but...they looked happy.  She continued to nibble.  "It's delicious."

 

"I'm glad you like it!" Takita said happily.  "You can come over any time you want and have lunch with us.  Or dinner, or breakfast, or any other meal you can think of."

 

"That'll be hard on your mom, won't it?" Odoroki pointed out around bites of his own.

 

"Naw, she likes it."

 

Makoto finished her carrot and took a sip of tea.  "I didn't know mothers could be like that," she confessed quietly.

 

Takita hummed thoughtfully.  "You mean, overbearing food-a-holics?"

 

"No…"  Makoto frowned slightly.  "Happy."

 

The boys looked to her again, and her shoulders crept up a little, even though she was starting to get used to their attention.  She looked to Odoroki, who was watching her with soft eyes.  "Do you remember your mother very well?" he asked gently.

 

"Only a little."  Makoto set her chopsticks down, occupying her fingers instead with her pad and pencil.  It was difficult to draw--she had only vague memories of her mother, and she wasn't very good at portraits to begin with.  She sketched idle lines in the rough form of a face, with long, wavy hair and wide-set eyes.  "She was always…unhappy," she explained.  "She didn't smile like Mrs. Kitaki.  And then she left.  I wonder if…she's happy now…?"

 

Takita fidgeted on her right, but she was watching Odoroki now--he seemed to understand what she was talking about more than the other.  "Maybe," he offered.  "I don't remember my mother at all.  But…I hope she's happy."  He smiled weakly.  "You're happy right now, though, aren't you?"

 

Makoto folded her notepad again, and looked to the plate of food they were still working at dwindling.  "Yes," she said with a smile of her own.  "I am."

 

"Good."  Odoroki pushed to his feet.  "Um, mind if I borrow your bathroom?" he asked his host.

 

Takita waved vaguely.  "Yeah, sure.  It's down the hall on the right."

 

"Thanks.  I'll be right back."

 

*****

 

Takita watched Odoroki leave the room with an almost wary look, taking special notice of the way Makoto followed his exit with her eyes.  He suddenly lost interest in the food.  Frowning, he leaned down onto his elbow.  Once Makoto went back to eating, he cleared his throat.  "Hey."

 

Makoto glanced at him; she was splitting one of the pea pods open to get the tiny peas out.  "Yes?"

 

"You…"  He worried his bottom lip briefly between his teeth.  "You like him, huh?"

 

Makoto plucked a pea out with her fingers and popped it into her mouth.  "Who…?"

 

"Him.  The lawyer."  Takita made a disgruntled face.  "Odoroki."

 

"Oh.  Yes."

 

Takita sagged--it would have been nice if she'd been a little less direct than that.  "Don't see why," he grumbled.

 

Makoto blinked slowly; she was watching him closely now as she continued to open up the remaining pea pods.  "You…don't like him?"

 

"Not like that I don't!"  Takita glanced hotly away, feeling suddenly foolish for all the hopes he'd gotten up.  Jerk could have said something.  "What do you like about that little twerp anyway?"

 

"He's safe."

 

Takita frowned--that was a strange way to describe someone you liked.  He brought his attention back to Makoto's face.  "What's that mean?"

 

Makoto cleaned out another pea pod and reached for the last one.  Keeping her hands busy like that decreased her need for the drawing pad, so she left it alone this time as she explained.  "There are bad people, outside.  But there are some good people, too.  Mr. Odoroki works with Mr. Naruhodou, and with Minuki.  They're all good people."  She nodded vaguely.  "I…feel safe, with him."

 

"Wait a minute."  Takita pushed himself upright once more.  "You mean…you like him just as much as Minuki, and his boss?  You don't…like him like him?"

 

"Like him like him?" Makoto repeated cluelessly.

 

She doesn't like him like that.  A slow grin pulled at Takita's lips as relief flooded back into his chest.  I still have a chance.  He licked his lips, twice, and then darted forward to press a little kiss to her cheek.  "Like that."

 

"Oh.  Oh!"  Makoto's eyes grew very wide as she stared at him, freezing up again like she had in front of Tsudzuo and Koume.

 

Her speechlessness, coupled with her subtle blush, told Takita what he needed to know.  "Come on," he said abruptly, taking her hand.  "I want to show you something."

 

*****

 

Unfortunately, when Takita had indicated "down the hall to the right," he had forgotten the very important detail of which hall.  Odoroki wandered around longer than should have been necessary before finding the bathroom, and afterwards took just as long making his way back.  He was detained even longer when the echoes of some conversation caught his attention.

 

"…wouldn't encourage him so much.  This is not the right path for him."

 

"I am sorry, Sir."

 

Odoroki, unable to help his curiosity, crept closer to the sliding panel.  He couldn’t see anything as the room's entrance was tightly shut, but he recognized both voices: Takita's father, Tsunekatsu, and Tsudzuo Akagami.  They sounded rather serious.

 

"He is still young," Tsunekatsu was saying.  "He will understand…but it is too soon.  He is still very angry, and now is not the time to promote rivalry."

 

"That was not my intention, Sir.  Will your order me not to take him?"

 

Take him where?  Odoroki leaned forward, and the shift of pressure of his foot against the floorboard caused a tiny creak.

 

The sound, despite being very faint even to him, must have alerted the men inside, as Odoroki immediately heard heavy footfalls coming closer.  He backed away, but he wasn't nearly fast enough: the panel was thrown open, and five strong fingers caught him by the neck of his T-shirt.  With a startled yelp he was yanked roughly into the room; nearly pulled off his feet from the unexpected force.  He grabbed his captor's wrist to help remain upright.

 

"Tsudzuo!"  Tsunekatsu stood, his thick eyebrows scrunching.  "What are you doing?  Let him go."

 

Tsudzuo did so obediently and bowed his head.  "Forgive me.  Old habit."

 

Odoroki caught his breath.  "I'm sorry!" he said quickly, bowing.  "I shouldn't have--I mean, I was just coming back from the bathroom, and…"

 

"It's all right," Tsunekatsu assured him.  He looked the same as Odoroki remembered him, in his traditional clothing and bright apron.  "Please excuse Mr. Akagami."

 

"No, it's…"  Odoroki glanced up--Tsudzuo was watching him, and it was a bit unnerving.  "…it's okay.  It's my fault."

 

"Boss?"  Tsudzuo tipped his head down shortly.  "May I leave?"

 

Tsunekatsu sighed.  Odoroki could see the man's hand fidgeting within the fold of his yukata, but he didn't seem inclined to continue their conversation, now that Odoroki was there.  "Yes, Tsudzuo.  Please…you must understand."

 

"I understand," Tsudzuo replied simply.  He turned and slipped out of the room.

 

Odoroki watched him go, but Tsunekatsu quickly pulled his attention back.  "Are you well, Mr. Odoroki?  It is always good to see you."

 

"Yes, sir.  I'm very well."  Odoroki glanced between him and the door.  "Is everything all right?"

 

"Yes…it is."  Tsunekatsu reached into the pocket of his apron, and pulled out a handful of small wrapped treats to offer his guest.  "Here.  Will you take these back with you, for you and the young lady?  They are our newest product."

 

"Oh?"  Odoroki peeked inside the wrapping.  They looked like new versions of the original Kitaki monaka the family had been making: little bean-filled snacks with wafers, this time shaped like fox heads.  He smiled, certain that Makoto would like them.  "Thanks.  They're really brand new?"

 

"These are some of the only samples," Tsunekatsu confirmed.  "Please, try them out for us."

 

"Thank you."  Odoroki took a step back, and bowed again.  "Excuse me."

 

He ducked out, and as he'd hoped he could still see Tsudzuo, who was about to turn the corner at the end of the hall.  He didn't have time to gather his courage or rethink his intentions before hurrying after him.  "Mr. Akagami!"

 

Tsudzuo took another few steps, looking for a moment as if he was going to ignore Odoroki and keep going.  It certainly wouldn't have taken much effort for him to lose his short follower.  But then he abruptly stopped.  "Yes?"

 

Odoroki slowed to a halt in front of him.  Why do you always have to ask questions?  "I know it's not my business, but…I wanted to know…."  Odoroki gulped.  "The man that shot Takita last year.  It was one of the Katagi, wasn't it?"

 

Tsudzuo's eyes narrowed as he turned to face Odoroki squarely.  "Yuuri Katagi," he affirmed roughly.  "Why?"

 

"That's…Shouri Katagi's son, isn't it?  The Boss's son?"  Odoroki had started paying attention to the news concerning the rival yakuza families after his case that summer, always a little wary about getting mixed up in more than he could handle.  Naruhodou had given him a warning or two about that.

 

"Why?"

 

"Because…"  Odoroki felt his bracelet tighten subtly against his wrist, but he couldn't detect anything extraordinary in Tsudzuo's face, other than it was becoming very intimidating.  "…we saw him yesterday.  I just wanted to know if that was him."

 

Tsudzuo glared down at him a moment longer, silent and thoughtful.  He relaxed abruptly with a quiet snort.  "Stay away from Yuuri Katagi," he advised.  Without another word he strode off again.

 

Odoroki let his breath out in a long sigh.  Geez.  I guess yakuza come in all types.  He glanced down at his bracelet; it had never been wrong before.  Was he hiding something?

 

Odoroki made it back to Takita's room, only to find the lunch trays abandoned.  He helped himself to what remained of the chicken and took his tea with him on another search.  Thankfully, his two comrades were easier to find than the bathroom had been: they were sitting out on the porch together, Takita chatting happily as Makoto sketched in her book.  When he peeked over her shoulder, he saw a dark-lined rendition of the rock garden that filled the courtyard.

 

Makoto glanced up at him.  "Is it very close…?" she asked self-consciously.

 

"It's great," Odoroki replied.  He pushed his other concerns to the back of his mind as he sat down on her other side, and passed out the snacks Tsunekatsu had offered him.

 

 

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