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 5
It was nearing five in the
evening when Odoroki and Makoto finally had to leave
the Kitaki house.
"You two are welcome anytime," Koume
was sure to tell them as they slipped into their shoes at the entranceway. "And your friend from
the office, too! I'd ask you to
stay for a homemade dinner, but Takita's father and I
have reservations at
"We wouldn't want to
overstay our welcome," Odoroki replied.
"
"It's an old restaurant,
next to
Makoto straightened a
little. "Oh. I saw it in a magazine."
Odoroki hummed thoughtfully.
"Do you want to go see the park?" he suggested. "The restaurant's probably booked, but
the park is open to the public. I can
call Minuki and ask her to meet us there."
Makoto stared up at him and
smiled faintly. "Okay."
"Do you need a
lift?" Takita asked. "I can ask Tsudzuo
to drive you."
Makoto ducked closer to Odoroki's side, and when he offered his hand she was quick
to take it. He was starting to
understand how much of a comfort it was to her to have that simple, human
contact. "No, that's all
right. I'm sure…he's got better things
to do." It wasn't worth it to make
Makoto more nervous, if he could help it.
"Thank you for having us."
"Anytime." Takita grinned at Makoto.
"You'll call me, won't you?
I'll call you if you don't."
To Odoroki's
slight surprise, Makoto was still smiling.
"I will," she promised.
"Great! I can't wait."
They said their goodbyes, and
Odoroki walked with Makoto to the gate. She tensed as they approached, and once they
stepped through Odoroki remained still for a moment,
allowing her time to adjust to the fact that they were outside again. A few deep breaths later, and she nodded,
indicating that she was ready to continue.
Before starting off again, he
asked her, "Did you have a good time?"
Makoto nodded again. "Yes.
I did."
"I'm glad." Odoroki gave her
hand a little shake, and began to lead her down the street. "Let's find a cab, okay? I'm sure there'll be even more things for you
to sketch at the park."
"Okay." Makoto stood a little taller.
He'd rarely seen her so at
ease.
*****
Odoroki and Makoto met with Minuki
at the entrance to the park, and were surprised by an extra addition to their
party: Naruhodou was with her, claiming to have the night off. He hung back a bit as Makoto and Minuki headed through the decorated trellis entrance, and Odoroki took that as a hint. He let the girls get ahead before entering at
Naruhodou's side.
"Makoto looks like she's
doing really well," Naruhodou remarked.
"Minuki told me you were going to the
Kitakis’ today…?"
"Yeah, we had…a great
time." Odoroki
scratched the back of his neck sheepishly.
"I feel a little guilty," he admitted. "I was so convinced that Takita would be too much for her, but they seemed to get
along really well. Maybe the extra push
has been good for her."
There was something faintly
teasing in Naruhodou's smirk. "You've put a lot of thought into this…?"
Odoroki blushed a little at his insinuation. "It's not like that," he quickly
tried to explain. "It's
just…." He lowered his voice so he
could be sure the girls wouldn't hear.
"She just lost her dad. I
don't want her to feel like she's alone, that's all."
Naruhodou hummed
thoughtfully, catching on immediately to the words Odoroki
didn't have to say. Alone like I was, for a while. Every time Makoto took his hand, so eager for
protection and acceptance, he was reminded a little of himself. If he could provide her
that most basic of comforts, he would offer it gladly every time.
They were quiet for a
moment. Odoroki
had the feeling that there was something else on Naruhodou's
mind, but he didn't speak up; Naruhodou rarely gave
him a straight and honest answer when he asked for it. He only stared straight ahead, watching as Minuki stopped to smell one of the path-side flowers.
As he had expected, Naruhodou got around to it on his own time. "There's something I want to ask you,"
he murmured.
Odoroki glanced up at him; it didn't take a magic bracelet to
know Naruhodou was being serious for once.
"Me? What is it?"
"It's about Garyuu. Your old boss."
"Oh…." Odoroki frowned,
lowering his gaze to his shoes. It was
still a strange topic for him, especially to have to talk about with Naruhodou.
"Yeah…?"
"Have you been to see
him?"
"Well…no." There were a lot of reasons for that, but he
picked the simplest. "I figured
there was nothing left to say. Have
you…?"
Naruhodou bypassed his
question entirely. "Did he ever
talk to you about me?" he asked carefully.
"While you still worked for him, I mean."
"No…not
really." Odoroki rubbed his
forehead as he thought back, trying to be sure of that answer. "Nothing important,
anyway. Just that he was meeting
you for dinner, and that that was why he'd leave the office early on some
days." He remembered, because he
had always wanted to ask his teacher more about the famous defense
attorney. "Why? Is something wrong?"
Naruhodou shook his
head. "Nah, not
really. Just one last mystery he
left for me to solve."
"Oh?" Odoroki watched him
closely then, wondering if he might get a clue as to what he was talking
about. He'd never been able to read
Naruhodou before, so why he felt so hopeful now was beyond him. "Is there anything I can do to
help?"
"I don't know. Maybe." Naruhodou shrugged, looking as unmoved as
ever. His seriousness had passed as
quickly as it had come on. "I'll
let you know."
Odoroki sighed; that was probably the best he was going to
get, and it didn't do any good to be disappointed. "Yeah, okay."
"Hey!" Minuki waved at the
two of them from further down the path.
"Come on, slowpokes!"
Odoroki waved back, and picked up his pace to rejoin the
girls. If Naruhodou needed his help, it
certainly wouldn't kill him to ask for it.
He could be patient until then.
*****
Akane checked her watch; it
was right about five-thirty now. Kyouya had told her to "think about it," and she
had, for almost the entire day after their encounter. It was a good thing they didn’t have any new
cases to work on, as she couldn’t remember spending a less productive day since
being hired as a detective.
She didn’t really want to
go. Kyouya had
made it rather obvious by then that he had no intention of sharing anything
personal with her, and she didn’t know him well enough to think that her continued
interference was warranted, let alone welcome.
But as she slipped into her car and pulled away from the precinct, she
found herself heading toward his building anyway.
If I don’t go, it’s like admitting that he was right, Akane thought, chewing her lip. But he
wasn’t! It’s not that I feel
guilty. And it’s not just sympathy,
either. She sighed as she pulled
into a parking space. Maybe I don’t know him all that well…but
this has got to be the worst time for him to be alone, and he doesn’t have anyone
else. It was presumptuous reasoning,
maybe, but that didn’t stop her from riding the elevator to the top floor,
where Kyouya’s condo was situated.
The doorman must have warned Kyouya that he had a visitor coming, as his door opened as
soon as Akane reached it. He was dressed
a bit more casually than usual, in baggy black pants and a sleeveless top. More surprising was his hair: instead of its
usual style, it was pulled back in a normal ponytail.
“Hello,
Detective,” Kyouya greeted brightly, leaning against
the door frame. “What a pleasant surprise. You said you weren’t coming.”
“I changed my mind,” Akane
replied. “I decided I couldn’t let you
off the hook that easily.”
“Oh? How so?”
Akane stared back at him, not
letting that curious expression of his get under her skin. She would have to be direct—it was the only
way that Kyouya would take her seriously. She couldn’t let him get the upper hand over
her by employing his usual teasing. “I
know you’d rather I leave you alone,” she said firmly. There was no backing down now. “But I’m not going to do that. I know a lot about secrets, and the people
who keep them, and even if it’s none of my business I don’t want to see you
turn into one of those people.”
Kyouya glanced away.
It was getting a little easier every time to peel off that pretty-boy
mask of his, and for a moment, she thought she’d finally gotten to him. He turned his back suddenly, pulling a coat
out of the closet, picking things off a small table in the entranceway. Before Akane could ask what he was up to,
he’d stepped into a pair of sandals and out of the condo, pulling the door shut
behind him.
“All
right.” He slid a pair of sunglasses onto his
nose. “Let’s take a walk.”
*****
Takita did his very best to avoid his parents between the
time Odoroki and Makoto left, and when it became time
for their evening engagements. The Kitaki house was big enough that it wasn't a terribly
difficult achievement. He even managed
to spend the last several minutes of his "hiding out" with Tsudzuo, brushing up on the basics of gun care that he had
neglected for the past year. It was
almost chilling in a way to go from Makoto's sweet and pleasant company to the
stern instruction of the Underboss. He imagined that his own father had to have undergone
similar duality in his younger years.
At present he was settled in
the passenger seat of Tsudzuo's black car, his
parents behind, Tsudzuo himself at the wheel. "We'll drop you off at the restaurant,
and pick you up on our way back," Takita told his
folks. "I've got my cell, if ya need anything."
His father made a quiet sound
of disapproval at the back of his throat.
Whatever Tsudzuo had said earlier, it seemed
the man had found out about their plans for that evening after all. Takita had no intention
of justifying himself. His eyes were
continuously drawn to the glove box as Tsudzuo
started the car. He doesn't understand, he thought stubbornly, zipping his jacket up
over his chest. Not like Tsudzuo and I do.
Koume sighed.
"We'll call when we're ready," she told her son. "Just promise you'll be careful out
there. Tonight is an important
night."
"It's not a big
deal," Takita protested. "It's a closed range. Nothing's going to happen."
He glanced up, and could see
part of her displeased face in the rearview mirror. Whatever. Tsudzuo's calm presence beside him was all he needed to
know that he was doing the right thing.
"But fine," he said, for his mother's sake. "We'll be careful."
"He'll be fine," Tsudzuo added evenly.
"He's with me."
The family fell silent as
they pulled away from the house.
*****
It wasn’t until they were
outside of the building, and Akane had dropped her satchel off in her car, that
Kyouya finally spoke again. “I appreciate what you’re doing,” he told
her. His words sounded rehearsed even to
him--in fact, they had been. He hadn’t
really believed that Akane had any intention of leaving him alone, and he had already
half-practiced their exchange in his head.
“But I don’t need you looking after me, Detective.”
“I know that’s what you
think,” Akane replied determinedly. “But
I’ve heard that before. And I’m not
letting you get away with it.”
Kyouya shrugged, and started to lead the way down the
sidewalk. He had deliberately led them
outside for this conversation; the inside of his condo was a little too
familiar to him at the moment, and—he hoped—the fresh air would keep his head
clear. He needed to be focused to keep
from saying something he would regret.
“It sounds,” Kyouya remarked, “like this is more about you than me.”
Akane sighed, and to Kyouya’s surprise, she admitted it. “Maybe," she said evenly. "A long time ago…someone needed my
help. But I wasn’t strong enough for her.” Her voice lowered a little. “I was too afraid of saying something wrong
to say anything, and I regretted it. I still
do.”
Her unexpectedly sincere
confessions was eerily familiar; Kyouya almost wasn’t
sure for a moment if she'd really said them out loud, or if they were only in
his mind. “Naivety, and cowardice,” he
murmured distractedly. “They can cost
you a lot.”
His affirmation encouraged
her. “I know what you’re going through,”
Akane continued with a bit more strength.
“At least, somewhat. You don’t have to be so stubborn with me—I’m
just trying to help.”
“I know.” Kyouya gave his
bangs a ruffle. “I get it. It’s just….”
Just what? Kyouya frowned as
he tried to come up with an answer that wasn't a copout or an all-out lie. It wasn't just uncomfortable. It was personal. It was frustrating, and awkward, and humbling, and all the things an
international superstar and law genius usually didn't have to deal with. There were very few people he confided in,
and even then he wasn't used to going to them with issues of the magnitude he
was suffering under now. His
independence was one of the qualities he prided himself on.
But now Akane
was walking alongside him, her wide brown eyes flashing with their strange
mixture of determination and sympathy.
He believed her when she said she was offering her help, and with a dull
feeling of resignation he realized that he might have been ready to accept it.
In fact, he could almost
admit now…he had been asking for it,
and not only from Akane. All those little glances he’d been giving lately,
all the casual touches and half-hearted jokes meant something. His arm on Odoroki’s
shoulder, his hands on Akane’s lab coat: each was an
unconscious invitation, a silent question towards the only people left in his
life that might be able to respond with understanding. He had reached out in a hundred tiny ways,
looking for support without having to abandon his pride and ask for it.
It had taken a while for Akane to realize as much, but in the end she was answering
all those unvoiced pleas. Whatever her
motives, it was what he had secretly wanted.
There was no use pretending otherwise.
“It’s just hard,” Kyouya replied at last, letting the sounds of the city
around them fade to the back of his mind.
“I trusted Daian more than anyone." He had never said as much to anyone, not even
the man himself, but even now it was a truth he was not ashamed to admit. "Without him…there’s no one I can talk
to.”
“But everyone at the precinct
loves you,” Akane pointed out. “The rest
of the band, all your fans…”
Kyouya shook his head.
“I can’t talk to them. They don’t
understand, and trying to explain it makes me…”
He trailed off, realizing that it wasn’t any different with Akane. Just
take the chance. If she calls you an
idiot, it’s only what you deserve.
“…It makes me feel worse,” he finished.
“I’m partly to blame. And if someone
tells me that, I don’t want to hear it because I already know, and if they try
to offer sympathy that’s even worse.”
Akane fingered a strand of
her hair awkwardly. She must have been
thinking really hard on this, and if nothing else her nose scrunched up like
that did lift his spirits a little. “I
don’t think you’re giving us all enough credit,” she declared. “I’m sure a lot of people would be willing to
help you, if you let them.”
“I’m sure.” Kyouya smirked
without humor. My fans indeed. “I’ve gotten letters from fans of the band,”
he found himself relating. “The usual stuff.
‘Please keep making music.’ But
I’ve gotten a lot saying, ‘Sorry about your brother going to jail. But don’t feel bad, I’m sure he’s a jerk who
deserved it!’” The thought of all those
emails sitting in his inbox even now almost made him ill. “And the worst part is, after reading every
one I think ‘You’re wrong!’ and start writing a reply defending him!”
Kyouya chuckled bitterly.
As inexcusable as his ignorance had been, continuing to support his
brother after knowing the truth had to be worse. “It’s so stupid.”
“It’s not stupid,” Akane told
him quickly. “He’s your brother.”
“My brother on death row for
murder,” Kyouya reminded her.
“So? Love doesn’t work that way.”
Akane took his hand then,
giving it a reassuring squeeze. It
startled him at first, as he wasn't used to her being the one to initiate
contact. But as he glanced down at her
hand, and noticed the tension in her arm, he suddenly remembered an old story
he'd heard around the station.
"That’s right. Your sister
was Chief Prosecutor Houdzuki."
"Yeah…" Akane smiled grimly. "It's just like you said: I was naïve,
and a coward. She took on everything by
herself, all to protect me…and I let her down, in a lot of ways."
Kyouya took in a breath to speak, but he stopped when he
realized that the words of encouragement he had meant to offer were just the
sort of thing he himself had dreaded hearing.
He snorted, returning the gentle grip she had on his hand. "I guess that makes us more alike than I
thought."
Akane continued to watch him. By then they were getting away from the row
of condominiums that were prominent in the area, passing by small drugstores
and specialty shops. The sidewalks were
crowded, but with the rush hour traffic droning in the background there was no
reason to think anyone would overhear them.
Kyouya was completely out of defenses and
excuses.
"I wish I could say my brother
is as noble as your sister," he said, nudging his sunglasses up onto his
forehead. He didn't need to hide behind
them now. "But I know he's
not. Maybe that's what bothers me the
most: I'd known for a long time there was something wrong, but I was too
busy…" He sighed. "…trying to earn his
respect. I figured there was no
way he'd confide in me if he didn't even like me that much." He looked to Akane for affirmation. "Did you always suspect your sister had
done something wrong?"
"Well, sort
of." Akane's
eyes looked a little unfocused as she stared into the crowd ahead of them. "There were times she'd get this look in
her eyes…like, a guilty look. But when I
asked if something was wrong, she just shook her head."
Kyouya hummed thoughtfully.
"My brother never looked guilty," he murmured. "He was…scared." He well remembered the awkward lunches they had
shared, the strained holidays where they playacted and struggled through even
some of the most basic of familial conversations. All his childhood enthusiasm and adoration
had broken time after time, like waves, against Kirihito's carefully masked
disdain and mistrust.
"I thought for a while
that maybe I had hurt him somehow," Kyouya went
on slowly. The guilt he had felt during
those years of miscommunication was still with him. "That it was me he was scared of--that it had to be my fault somehow. It wasn't until that crazy kid dragged him up
on the stand that I really understood."
Kyouya stopped walking abruptly, his grip on Akane's hand pulling her to a halt as well. "Seven years," he said, feeling the
gravity of those words. He met Akane's gaze in hopes of conveying to her all those things
he wasn't able to tell any of the others that had offered him sympathy. "All I had to do was ask him what was
wrong, and I could have saved two people's lives. And I couldn't even do that."
"It's not your
fault," Akane told him. "Kirihito Garyuu
fooled a lot of people."
"Yeah…except
one." Kyouya
started walking again, and Akane remained close at his side. His palm was a little sweaty by then, but she
didn't seem to be bothered by it.
"You know Naruhodou," he said abruptly. "He knew all along, didn't he…?"
The slight shift of subject
did make Akane a bit nervous--he could tell be the falter in her gait. "I don't know about that. But I do know that if he could have prevented
those murders, he would have."
"I want to ask
him." Kyouya's
throat tightened; the emotion of their conversation was finally wearing him
down. "If there's a chance he knew
my brother better than I did…I'd like to talk to him." He scoffed.
"But I just might be too much of a coward for that, too."
"He'll come
around," Akane replied swiftly.
"He just needs a little time."
She shook his hand slightly so that he was looking when she smiled up at
him. "If you're as persistent with
him as I've been with you, I'm sure you'll get through to him."
Kyouya chuckled, though even that deepened the ache in his
chest. "Maybe," he
conceded. "Maybe…I'll have to learn
to be as brave as you, Detective."
*****
The interior of
When they reached the east
end of the park they came across a group of benches, and sat there as Naruhodou
surprised them all with a brown bag full of melon pan, which he had kept hidden
in his sweatshirt the entire time. As
the evening began to cool over the next half hour they sat close together on
the bench, nibbling their snacks and watching Makoto attempt to sketch
everything around her.
It wasn't until a small stone
building appeared on her pad that Odoroki even
noticed that it was a reflection of a real structure, which sat a few dozen
yards in front of them. "Is that a
restroom or something?"
"Snack shop,"
Naruhodou corrected. "They're
pretty famous here for their shaved ice.
I hear the flavors are pretty strange, though. Like pickle and beef."
"Beef?" Minuki echoed, horror-struck. "On shaved ice?"
"That's what I've
heard." He smirked at her. "Do you want to try some?"
"Ew, no!" Minuki laughed and shoved playfully at his arm. "That's gross."
Odoroki smiled as the pair of them continued to tease,
sharing their ideas of what would make the most disgusting dessert
topping. He turned his attention back to
Makoto. She was focusing very intently
on her drawing, her pencil flying across the page in long strokes. He had never been very artistic himself, and
he found it fascinating to watch.
"You've been doing a lot
of drawing today," he remarked.
"Isn't your hand getting tired?"
"A little," Makoto
confessed softly. "But I want to
have…many sketches. So I can have many
to choose from."
"Oh? Are you going to pick one for something?"
"To
paint." Makoto lifted her head, scanning the area
carefully before returning to the drawing.
"I want to see…if I can make it into a painting from a rough sketch…instead
of a photo."
Odoroki frowned thoughtfully.
"You mean, you haven't done that
before?"
"No…not
really." Makoto shook her head, her usually round blue
eyes narrowed in endearing determination.
"Father always painted from his heart. But I…only copy. I think, maybe if I can start painting from
my mind first…then I can learn to
paint from my heart…?" She looked
to him hopefully. "Does that make
sense?"
"Yes, I think
so." Odoroki
smiled sheepishly. "I don't know
much about art. But it sounds like
you're trying to get better, and that's always a good thing. I think…your dad would be proud."
Makoto glanced away, for a
moment looking distant, and he feared he'd brought up too painful
memories. But then she nodded, and
resumed her work. "I think so,
too."
Odoroki sighed quietly in relief. "Well, I'm proud of you, too. It's been a long day, but you're really
working hard. Not that you should push
yourself…." Odoroki
scratched the back of his neck. "You're
not tired?" he felt compelled to ask again. He wanted to encourage Makoto as much as he
could without pushing her past her limits.
"No," Makoto
assured. She took in a deep breath. "I'm okay. I'm going to be more like Mr. Takita."
"Takita?" The sudden image that came to mind was that
of Makoto in an oversized jacket, scowling and hopping. He coughed into his hand to keep from
laughing. "What do you
mean?"
"He's brave,"
Makoto explained. "He's not afraid…to
say what he's thinking. To go outside…meet
people…" Her shoulders tensed, and
for a moment her fingers closed too tightly around her pencil for her to keep
drawing. "I want to be like
that…"
She took in another deep
breath, and with visible effort gathered herself up. She faced Odoroki
seriously. "I want to eat beef
flavored shaved ice."
This time Odoroki
couldn't hold back his laughter. He had
to admit, he was pretty sure that if Takita had been
there he would say the same thing.
"Okay. Let's go see what
they have."
As soon as Naruhodou and Minuki heard what they were up to, they insisted on seeing
for themselves as well. The four of them
wrapped up what remained of the melon pan and made their way down the path
towards the brick building. It, too, was
surrounded by shrubbery and vine-covered trellises, so that it wasn't until
they had moved around to the side of the building that they realized they
weren't alone in the park that evening.
"Awww
shit man," someone was whining
in a thin voice. "Shit."
Odoroki dimly recognized those grating obscenities, and he
instinctually slowed, casting a quick glance at Minuki. As he'd feared, the figure they soon came
across was Yuuri Katagi, the golden-gangster from the
afternoon before. He seemed deeply
occupied with the drinking fountain he was at, as he was trying desperately to
clear something off his silly gold shirt.
Though Odoroki thought it prudent to turn back
and try to avoid the man--Tsudzuo's warning from a
few hours earlier was still fresh in his mind--that ceased to be an option
fairly quickly.
"Hey!" Minuki declared in a bright, but still accusatory
tone. "You're that guy!"
Yuuri's head snapped up, and he faced the four of them with
an irritated scowl. Though Odoroki's left hand was already taken by Makoto's, he
reached out to take Minuki's elbow as well, as if
afraid of her getting too close to the man.
Naruhodou must have noticed his sudden caution, as he took a deliberate
step forward to put himself partially in front of his daughter.
"That looks like quite a
stain you've got on there," Naruhodou remarked easily.
Yuuri squinted at them all
suspiciously, and at last snorted. He
didn't seem to recognize Odoroki and Minuki at all.
"Can you believe this shit?" he complained, indicating the
red-orange smear down the front of his shirt.
In his over-zealous efforts to clean the mess, he had managed to soak
his sleeves and unbuttoned vest as well.
"Best shaved ice in town my
ass. This stupid cherry crap is
never coming out."
"You're supposed to eat it," Minuki
pointed helpfully. "Not wear it."
Yuuri glared at her with more
hateful sentiment than a ruined shirt deserved.
With a scowl he even rounded the fountain, taking a step at Minuki as if on the attack.
His sharp movement sent Makoto ducking behind Odoroki,
but more impressively, prompted a quick response from Naruhodou. The protective parent took a step of his own,
intercepting Yuuri and placing a hand against his chest. "Hey, calm down."
"Don't you touch me!" Yuuri snipped, shoving Naruhodou's
hand off him. "You watch yourself,
old man--don't you have any idea who you're dealing with?"
"We know who you
are," Odoroki interrupted, trying to ease the
sudden tension. "And we're very
sorry, Mr. Katagi.
We don't mean to cause you any trouble."
Yuuri rolled his eyes
haughtily. "Of course you don't mean any
trouble," he said obnoxiously.
"You know better. No one
messes with the Katagi in this town, that's for
sure. You're lucky I'm so busy right
now, or else I would'a--"
"Sir!" His
ear-stinging tirade was cut off as another man came running down the path
towards them. Odoroki
also recognized the heavy-set man as one of Yuuri's
lackeys. He looked pale and half
panicked as he hurried to Yuuri's side.
"Boss, it's…" The man gulped, and stumbled over the words
as Yuuri glared at him impatiently. "It's
your Father, he's been sho…." He broke off when he noticed Odoroki and the others watching, and even slid a hand
behind his back. Odoroki
couldn’t be sure from the angle, but he had a strong suspicion there was a
weapon there.
"Huhh?" Yuuri waved a hand. “Don’t shoot them, they’re nobodies. “Now what are you babbling about?”
The man continued to glance
between his master and their audience uncertainly, though thankfully he took
his hand from whatever armament he had hidden.
“Please, you just have to come with me,” he said urgently.
Yuuri stared back at him
dumbly for a moment, but finally he nodded, and turned his back on Odoroki and his friends.
"Take me there," he demanded.
The two men then ran off, leaving the four bystanders to exchange
baffled looks.
Naruhodou reached into his
pocket, fishing out his old cell phone to press in a few numbers. Odoroki watched him
curiously. "Who are you calling?"
"The police." Naruhodou smiled grimly. "I've got a bad feeling about this."