Day Three - Afternoon

"So I - Whoa. Naoto-kun." Rise's expressive eyes are nearly round when she catches sight of me. She watches as I approach the step she's sitting on, twisting the end of her belt in her hands. When I stop in front of her, she swallows and asks, "You didn't really put Adam in traction, did you?"

"I -" I cut off, bring my hand up to tip my cap over my eyes - but no, she's sitting, she can still see my face - she's already seen my face - there is no bearing this gracefully so why don't I throw a tantrum right here on the pavement - Kanji Tatsumi is not worth the effort of a tantrum - though right now, I feel it would be patently effortless. "I am - fine," I manage. "There was merely an altercation between myself and - an associate."

"Oh. An altercation." That slow nod I cannot stand. "Sure. Well, you know, if you wanna blow off some steam-" she taps the step next to her "-Rise's right here."

"No, don't concern yourself with it." I sigh heavily, then join her on the step, pushing my cap back to rub my forehead, then sliding the brim down again.

And she slips cheerfulness onto her face. "So what'd you learn?"

I close my eyes, gathering myself - discarding all thoughts of tattooed tailors - and say, "I will spare you the verbatim account. It was not flattering." Her eyes round again, demanding explanation. If I can help it, she'll never hear anything of what Oliver said. "Suffice it to say that he lied and speculated throughout, and if he spoke those words publicly, you could press charges for slander. I recorded all of it, so you are more than capable of roasting him to a cinder."

"Aw, Naoto-kun, you're a sweetheart. I love having a detective on my side."

"I'll download the file for Inoue-san as soon as-" As soon as I can get myself back together. Honestly, I'm such a wreck that Kanji of all people has given up on me. What good is being the Detective Prince with nearly sixty cases to her name if you can't out-argue Kanji Tatsumi? If all your mental library is in disarray because you were imbecile enough to call him in the middle of the night and make him worry - no, why am I defending him? He threw the first punch, assuming I'd be in trouble of any kind.

"...And I'm sure you'd find this fascinating if you were actually listening to me, Naoto-kun." As I shake myself and turn to Rise, she gives me a sympathetic pout. "Those other detectives are really running you ragged, huh? I've never seen you so out of it, not since we pulled you out of the TV."

"It's the cold," I say automatically, unable to stop my thoughts as they're yanked back to my rescue from the TV World. Kanji insulted me then too, once we were safely out of it. Well, if worrying is such a nuisance to him, he needn't bother. I indulge a moment, imagining him lying in bed, unable to sleep because he's fulminating over my scathing - scathing - rhetoric...then realize that I'm sitting here imagining Kanji Tatsumi lying in bed. I rest my chin against the heel of my hand, hiding the red flare across my cheek from Rise, who's saying something about Oliver. Must attend to her. She's a much better friend than Kanji.

"-just want to be sure Senpai doesn't think anything's really going on. I mean - I feel like he trusts me, but when you spend so much time apart, you know, these thoughts just slip into your head. Especially when I do all these love scenes, not that they mean anything... And it's just human nature, I guess, I worry about him sometimes. He's really good-looking and charming, and I know I'm not the only girl who's noticed."

"Mm," I say, trying to pick up the thread of this. "Yes, Souji-senpai's certainly very attractive." My phone beeps. I glance down. Of course it's my colleagues. (Why would it be Kanji? I never expected it to be Kanji.) As I set the phone to my ear, I notice Rise's giving me a sharp look, and I wave my hand as the best apology I can offer. I don't blame her for being annoyed at the interruption, to say nothing of my inattention. The message is brief, but as soon as I hang up, I have to leave. "I'm sorry, Rise-chan, it's important." The baklava vendor is at the station, waiting to be questioned, and it's literally a matter of minutes before the owner of Taste of Djibouti realizes he's under suspicion and tries to get out of the city. Rise says something as I head off at a run, but I don't hear what it is.

We're questioning the baklava vendor (and trying to stay abreast of the restaurant owner's movements) for most of the afternoon. By six, we've caught the restaurant owner and gotten a full confession. Case closed. Around eight-thirty, I find myself stumbling back into my suite, head pounding, throat raw from talking so much. As I open the door, I'm met with the fragrance of curried shrimp. Also crème brûlée, I believe. Souji turns from the small stove. "Good timing."

"Senpai, I - this was the last thing I was expecting." I close the door behind me. "I usually just eat out."

"I promised I'd help with the housework," Souji says, pulling half a smile. "Consider it payment for your help in this."

This. Yes. His great plan to propose to Rise. Who is waiting for Oliver's recording. I'm about to deflect, say I can't relax, there's still work I need to do, I'll just grab something, but - no. Damn, I am exhausted. Surely I can spare a quarter hour for myself and my guest. Still, graciousness doesn't come easily, even as I sit, sighing with relief. "Then I am...amply remunerated, Senpai. Thank you."

Souji is good enough to wait until we're mostly through the shrimp, the crème brûlée about to go into the oven, before beginning our planning session. "So," Souji says, "I'm thinking, if it's too much of a production, too much can go wrong. But it's Rise, so I want it to be really memorable. So I want to keep this simple but amazing."

I hold off from rubbing my aching forehead. "Tangibles would be useful."

"Okay," Souji says, "I've already decided on balloon animals - don't worry, I can make them myself; I learned how from this circus clown I met a couple months ago, he was having self-esteem issues - anyway - and I was hoping you could hook me up with a fog machine. I know, not exactly simple, but I think it'll be worth the extra effort when I come out in the T-Rex suit."

"Senpai..." Without realizing it until now, I've been kneading my temples. "Rise will accept you, fog machine or no fog machine."

"I hope so," he says, and there's a rare shadow of uncertainty on his face, just for a moment. "But you know Rise. She's flamboyant. I want this to be special for her."

I sigh, too wise to argue with love. Or too ill. "This is New York City. Anything you want can be procured here. Consider a fog machine yours."

"Secondly, I was hoping we could use this room as a venue," Souji goes on. "It's a nice, controlled location, and if anything embarrassing happens, at least it's not public." I nod, closing my eyes and wincing. "And I was also thinking..." It takes me a moment to realize he's trailed off, another moment to heave my eyes open. He's looking at me, a concerned frown on his face. "You okay there?"

"I-it's been a long day," I settle on. "And this cold just keeps lingering."

He grimaces. "Sorry to hear that. Wish I could cast an Amrita or something. Should we call it a night?"

"No - no, by all means, we should plan." I don't add that the sooner he proposes, the sooner he can leave and I can have one burden eased from my shoulders.

After another minute or so, we've dispensed with the T-Rex suit - we both feel it projects entirely the wrong symbolism for a proposal - and Souji's wondering out loud if he can procure a set of plate mail instead. I must admit, being swept up by a knight in shining armor in a big production would be quite to Rise's tastes... It's a pity Daidara is so far away... And Souji feels the balloon animals would probably be distracting. He's still resolute about the fog machine. He's made me some lemon tea, which I'm bent over, inhaling the steam, trying to say as little as possible as he streamlines this project on his own.

I jump as there's a sudden knock at the door. Souji rises to get it, but I wave him off. My door, my responsibility. Leaving my cap on the table, I cross the room and open the door.

"Heya," says Rise. "Just wanted to catch up with you about Adam. Mind if I come in? Whoa, hey-" She steps forward, grabbing my arm. "You look terrible. You need to lie down."

"No - I - I'm perfectly - I'm just surprised to see you, but really, I feel quite fine-"

"Silly Naoto, stop trying to be so adult. Lie down and I'll get you something cool for your forehead." And still holding my arm, she walks in and closes the door behind her. I watch her face, not daring to turn around. She still looks concerned. No shock, no wide-eyed stare at the room behind me. Souji must have disposed of himself somehow. "Yeesh, Naoto, your face is white and your eyes are all bugged out. Too cute. Well, lie down."

"Rise-chan, I - I-" I cannot think of a reason to get her out of here. I'm contagious? No, I've already shown that I'm willing to be around other people. I feel queasy? I certainly do, and that won't stop her. I sink onto the sofa, never minding the rumpled blanket. The only thing I can do is cooperate and get her out of here as soon as possible.

"Now, then, I - huh?"

I turn. Rise is standing at the small table, looking at the two sets of plates and flatware. The oven beeps. The crème brûlée is ready.

Rise blinks and looks at me, mystified. "Were... Did you have someone over?"

"I didn't invite anyone to dinner, no," I say weakly. "Eh... There was extra food and...I thought I should set out more. That's all."

Rise nips her lower lip. "Maybe you're feverish too. Oh, Naoto-kun." She comes over to feel my forehead. "I hate the way you overwork yourself. Lie down already." Swallowing, I ease myself to the sofa pillows. "You're kinda flushed and clammy. Maybe we should go to the hospital?"

"No," I say firmly. "The hospital is quite unnecessary. All I need is rest and-" ah, inspiration "-and quiet. Quiet." Solitude is necessary for quiet.

"No problem," Rise says. "I'll be plenty quiet. Lemme get these dishes for you. Wow, curried shrimp. I didn't know you were that ambitious. You're usually kind of blah when it comes to cooking." I hear as she scrapes the dishes, then starts running the sink faucet. "Senpai makes the most exquisite curried shrimp. Also crème brûlée. Is...?" She glances at the oven, then shakes herself. "You have to try it sometime. When I'm there, of course," she adds on a giggle. Finished with those dishes, she comes back to the couch and studies me. "You need more pillows. Hold on, I'll get some." And heads towards my bedroom.

I don't need to wonder. I know where Souji is. "Rise-chan," I say as her hand's two inches from the door knob, "I don't need pillows. I'm quite fine, actually. I think the pillows would make me stuffy."

She gives me a Mama Rise knows better than you look, but just goes back to the sink, folds a swath of paper towels and runs it under the cold faucet. Then she comes over, kneels and pats it on my forehead, apologizing as water drips into my eyes.

"And - you know - I'm sorry about the whole Adam thing," she says softly. "I didn't realize you were feeling so cruddy when I asked you."

"It's fine." The water feels lovely, but I'm hoping she'll just leave. How long is Souji going to have to hide in my bedroom? What if she decides to go in for something? There's always the bathroom, maybe he can duck in there. Though it's smaller than a closet. He'd better not be poking around my luggage... "We have his statements. All you need to do is show them to Inoue-san and I'm sure he'll agree that your public image would only suffer from further association with Oliver."

"Your throat sounds bad." She gets me my cup of tea. "You've really been busy, huh? Curried shrimp and tea. You gotta stop doing all this, Naoto-kun." My phone beeps. "Let me answer it," Rise says, voice rising. "I'll give those detectives something to investigate!"

But I've already hitched the towel off my eyes and opened my phone to see who the call's from. My chest tightens. It's Kanji. The phone beeps again as I stare at it, thinking how sweet it would be to just leave him calling.

But I press my lips together. Some confrontations I can back out of, some provocations I can easily ignore. This call is not one of them. I swallow - to ensure my voice comes smoothly - and set the phone to my ear, speaking flatly. "Hello?"

"Naoto, I - uh - H-how you doin'?"

"I am fine. But you expected otherwise."

"Shit, don't - Look, you really gonna hold this against me?"

"Hold what against you?" I ask, maintaining perfect control over tone and inflection. Rise, meanwhile, has gone back to the dishes, though I'm sure she's lending one ear. "The misguided concern of an acquaintance is of no importance to me."

I expect him to shout, but there's a pause, and I think I hear him swallow. "I'm sorry," he says heavily. "I was an asshole, okay? Can we go back to normal?"

I tap my thumbnail against the phone. Honestly, I'm annoyed he's given in so easily. Can't he take a fight? (Doesn't he realize I was acting like an idiot?) What does he want from me anyway?

"Naoto?" he asks.

I take a deep breath, and a cough tickles my throat. "Why did you insult me once you realized I was all right?" The dishes clink as Rise sets them on the counter.

"I just - you know..."

"No, I don't know. What are you trying to say?"

"I was afraid that - I-I've been - uh - I've been meaning to - I couldn't sleep and-"

Why is it, when I'm suddenly hanging on each word, he can't spit out anything but fragments? (Why I'm suddenly hanging on each word is something I'll analyze later.) Behind me, I hear a door creak open.

"I..." He swallows again, and his voice softens, making my cheeks warm. "Naoto... I..."

"What the-?" comes from my bedroom.

"Damn!" I say, sitting up, twisting to look behind me. Rise is not at the sink. The bedroom door's open. From this angle, I can see the edge of one of Rise's legs. Something about her ankle definitely suggests surprise.

"What?" Kanji snaps. "What're you swearing me out for?"

There's a loud banging on my front door. I stand, irresolute, able to hear Souji talking very quickly but too rattled to make out the words. Kanji is saying my name. As a fist falls on my door again, I make for it, wondering how I'll explain things to Rise.

"What're you doing in her bedroom?" comes Rise's voice, aghast and wavery and shocked and many other unhelpful things. "You - you're the one who cooked the crème brûlée?"

I open the door. There stands Adam Oliver.

"Naoto, answer me!" Kanji's voice breaks, fearful. "Are you hurt?"

"I've been, uh... Rise-chan," Souji tries.

"Finally found you," Oliver says, pushing into my room and slamming the door behind him. I put my hand in my pocket, fingers sliding into place along my pistol. "I thought I saw you talking with Rise in Union Square. Looks like I was right. And she led me right to you." He runs his hand through his hair, then leans against the wall, very nicely. Probably had to practice the gestures for a role. "Lunch today. It was a set-up, wasn't it?"

"S-so what's going on?" Sobs shake Rise's voice. "My boyfriend and my best friend? This sounds like a terrible soap opera. Is that it?"

"No, I swear, it looks much worse than it actually is-"

"Dammit!" There is a loud slap from the other room. "Don't come near me, you pimple!"

"Look." Oliver leans over me - he's quite tall, almost as tall as Kanji, and I bend all my willpower to not backing away. "I'll bet any money you kept recording me. So how's this, Ohtani? Something's going to have to be turned inside out. It's either the recorder or you. Be a smart guy." He grabs my shoulders, fingers pushing down.

This certainly qualifies as assault, and if he does try anything, I can add battery to my charges against him. Speaking of battery, there's another slap from the next room, Rise shouting, "Stop trying to explain yourself, you can talk your way out of anything, Mr. Charm, and I'm sick of it!"

"Answer me or I swear I'm coming over, I don't care how many planes I gotta jack!" from my phone. I catch my breath, struck by the passion in Kanji's voice, the faulty logistics of his plan notwithstanding.

"So what's it gonna be, pretty boy?" Oliver growls, removing one hand and folding it into a tight fist.

"Naoto, back me up!" And from behind me, I can hear Souji stalk into the room. "I'm just here because - the hell?"

"Adam?" Rise squeaks.

"Huh?" says Oliver, aggressive posture drooping as he takes in the other two. "What's-?" I turn as well. Rise's tear-stained. Souji has a very bright red mark across his left cheek.

I take a deep breath, drawing strength from within, steadying my voice and my thoughts. "Rise-chan, calm down. Souji is only here for convenience, and he came to see you. I have no designs upon him."

"What?" says Kanji, breathing hard. "Rise's there?"

"What?" says Rise, looking from me to Souji several times. "I - oh hell..." She covers her face with her hands. "I'm sorry, I just - all the stress-" She looks at me again, gulping, trying to laugh as she laughs so many things off. But she can't quite. "I mean, Souji's so amazing, it's hard for me to realize that not everyone's really in love with him. And I...I thought he thought I was loving up Adam..."

"What?" says Souji, darting a sharp look at Oliver and setting himself, hands forming fists.

"Hey-!" Oliver yaps, half stepping back. I don't blame him in the slightest.

"Of course I'm not in love with Souji," I say, focusing on breathing steadily and overcoming my congested head, complimenting myself for composure in the face of disaster. "I am in love with Kanji."

It takes me a moment to realize Souji and Rise are staring at me, eyebrows raised. I blink, reviewing what I just said.

What...I just said...

I drop my phone and wheel on Oliver, gun leveled at his torso. "Get out."

"What?" he bleats like a small lamb. "Don't point that toy at me!" But he releases me and retreats further, arms crossed over his chest.

"Naoto?" comes a tinny voice from the phone on the floor. "Naoto?"

"Get out," I say again, looking him in the eye. "Get away from me, and stay the hell away from Rise." As he fumbles for the doorknob, backs out of the door, then wheels and runs, I turn to the others, pocketing my gun. "You two. Go - somewhere. Souji, propose to Rise. Forget the fog machine. I must be alone."

"I - fog machine - propose...?" Rise looks up at Souji, blinking quickly. Souji nods with decision, takes Rise's arm and scoots the both of them out my front door.

As the door clicks shut behind them (and I hear someone spring into a run - and then Oliver yelp in fear, I think), I stare at the phone lying open on the carpet. I bend to pick it up - jerk my hand back - reach for it - fumble it - drop it again - then snatch it back up and hold it to my ear. "H-hello?"

"N-Naoto?"

I clear my throat. "Yes, of course it's Naoto. Who else would it be?"

"Did - did you say... What did you just say then?"

"I said good night, Kanji," I say, and end the call. And stand there a moment, breathing hard, pressing the phone to my cheek. It starts beeping again in an instant, so I shut it off entirely, but I don't put it away. The suite is full of the scent of badly burnt crème brûlée.

I walk into my bedroom, perch on the bed and wrap myself in my comforter. In a moment, I turn my phone back on. Still beeping. I set it to my ear. "Yes?"

"Naoto, I - don't try that, I know what I heard!"

"Yes. Well." I clear my throat, do my best to sound businesslike. End up coughing instead. "I will bid you good night, because I need to get some rest. I have a busy day ahead of me tomorrow. As soon as I'm done talking to you, I am going to order tickets for the first flight back to Japan."

Silence. Then - "Right. Good. B-because if you don't, I am jacking a plane and coming over there!"

"Of course."

"Hell yeah!"

"Well then...good night."

He swallows. "'Night."