La Vie En Rose: Chapter 1 - Part 7

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By the time he finished work, it was past eleven. Momota was the only one left at the shop. He turned off the lights and locked the door, just as his cell phone started ringing in his back pocket.

It wasn’t Ron-chan’s ringtone. With a sense of dread, he glanced at the screen—it was “Rina,” just as he had expected.

“…Hello?” 

“Momota, you’re done with work, right?” 

“I’m still working.” 

“Liar. You already turned off the shop lights.” 

“Where are you?” 

“Right at the entrance of the shop. I’m hungry. Buy me something to eat.” 

“Why do I have to buy you anything?” 

Momota said as he stepped into the elevator. 

“Don’t be stingy; just buy me dinner.” 

He reached the ground floor. Seeing Rina’s face, he hung up the phone.

“...Fine, I’ll get you McDonald’s. But then go home.”

“Yay!” Rina clung to his arm again. Even when he told her to let go, she wouldn’t, so he had no choice but to walk with her latched onto his right arm, heading towards the station through the bustling downtown area.

Ever since they met two weeks ago, Rina had been sending him numerous text messages every day. He didn’t reply to all of them, and he ignored the ones that came during work, but he felt bad about leaving them all unanswered, so he would occasionally reply.

He’d told her he was too busy with work to meet in person, but when she asked for the name of his shop, he’d let it slip, and the next day she had looked it up and showed up there at 8 p.m. Momota had told her, “I’m working,” and didn’t entertain her, but Rina waited outside until he finished work at 11 p.m. That day, he bought her McDonald's and sent her home.

Since then, Rina had been coming to see him almost every other day, timing her visits to when he finished work.

“Hey, Momota, why do you always drink orange juice?” Rina asked, stuffing her face with a chicken sandwich set and slurping her orange juice with bad manners.

After 11 p.m., even the 24-hour fast-food joints started to look empty. The two of them were seated on the second floor by the window, where it was deserted.

“I eat dinner around nine, so I’m not hungry. You always eat a lot, though,” Momota replied. 

“I haven’t eaten in two days,” Rina said nonchalantly.

When you’re on meth, you don’t feel hunger. Not eating and constantly being on the go… repeating this inevitably leads to malnutrition. Some even take all kinds of supplements before getting high.

When Momota stood up, Rina asked, “Where are you going?” 

“Wanted some coffee.” 

He went downstairs and bought a coffee and a salad. When he returned to the second floor, he placed the salad in front of Rina. 

“Eat this too,” he said.

“Eww, I hate McDonald’s salads.” 

“Don’t be picky like a kid. If you don’t eat vegetables, your skin will get all dry.”

With that threat, Rina reluctantly started munching on the salad Momota had bought. She had a sharp tongue and a nasty personality, but sometimes she could be surprisingly obedient.

“Hey, seriously, why don’t you just quit?” he asked.

Rina stuck her tongue out dramatically, seeming to understand what he meant. 

“I’m being serious,” Momota insisted.

“When I’m not doing it, I feel all gross inside,” Rina replied.

“That’s addiction, you know. You’re in deep,” Momota warned. 

Rina fell silent. Momota pulled out a cigarette from his jacket pocket and lit it.

“Oh, isn’t that Momo-chan?” 

He turned around to see Kaori, one of the shop’s top earners, standing with a tray in hand. 

“Kaori-chan, what are you doing here so late?” 

“It’s Saturday, right? I went to see a late-night show with a friend.” 

Kaori glanced at Rina. 

“Momo-chan, you’re quite the flirt, ditching our invitations to sneak around with a younger girl like this.”

“It’s not like that; she’s just a friend…”

“Maybe I should tell your beloved Ron-chan,” Kaori teased, bringing a finger to her lips with a sly smile.

“Please, don’t,” Momota pleaded. “I’d never cheat with another girl.”

“True,” Kaori muttered, then smiled and said, “See you tomorrow,” before heading over to the table where her girlfriends were waiting.

“What’s with that woman?” Rina asked sharply the moment Kaori left.

“She’s one of the escorts at our shop. A popular one, too.”

“Just a hag,” Rina muttered under her breath.

“So, you’re called Momo-chan?” 

“Well, to the girls at the shop, yeah.” 

“Does your lover call you Momo-chan too?”

Suddenly, Momota remembered that time and his face flushed red.

“Why are you blushing? Gross,” Rina said.

Momota turned his gaze to the window and pressed the cold paper cup of orange juice against his cheek.

Ron-chan had called him “Momota-san” ever since they first met. The name changed to “Momo” when Ron-chan answered his phone.

One night, Momota didn’t wake up when his phone rang. He’d had a bit to drink, and it had hit him hard. Ron-chan, who happened to be staying over, got worried when Momota wouldn’t wake up, no matter how much he called or shook him, and the phone kept ringing. Thinking it might be urgent, he answered the call for Momota.

The call was from one of the girls at the shop, who started crying, “Momo-chan, you’ve got to listen to me…” Momota had been forcibly woken up by Ron-chan and had to listen to the girl’s complaints for an hour, still half-asleep.

By the time he was fully awake, he apologized to Ron-chan after the call, saying, “Sorry for waking you up.” The girls at the shop often had a lot on their minds. Even things that seemed trivial to Momota weighed heavily on them, leading them to call at any hour. When he was alone, he didn’t mind, but when they were together, he didn’t want to be disturbed. Whenever Ron-chan stayed over, he would usually turn off his phone, but that day he had forgotten.

“Who was that call from?” Ron-chan had asked. 

Thinking he was being suspected of cheating, Momota hastily explained. 

“The girl on the phone works at my shop. In this line of work, there’s a lot of stress, so I have to listen to them sometimes. Just letting them talk and being there makes them feel at ease,” Momota explained.

Ron-chan still seemed uneasy, his face clouded with a hint of doubt. 

“The woman on the phone sounded younger than you, Momota-san,” Ron-chan said.

“Keiko-chan is twenty-five, one of the younger ones at our place.” 

“But she called you Momo-chan.” 

“They call me Momo-chan at the shop,” Momota replied.

He couldn’t understand why Ron-chan seemed so irritated. His gaze was fixed on Momota as if he wanted to say something, but instead, he just mumbled and went back under the covers, sulking. Momota wrapped his arms around his boyfriend from behind.

“Hey, Ron-chan, you always call me ‘Momota-san,’ don’t you?” 

“You’re older than me...” Ron-chan muttered.

“You don’t need to worry about that. Why don’t you call me Momo, too?” 

“Well...” Ron-chan hesitated.

“It feels less formal, and it makes me happy,” Momota encouraged.

Finally, Ron-chan turned to face Momota, looking up at him with a small voice, and whispered, “Momo.” 

The moment he heard it, Momota felt a mix of sweetness and embarrassment, his face turning bright red. Seeing this, Ron-chan also blushed, and both of them fell into silence.

Since that day, Ron-chan had started calling him "Momo."

“My lover calls me Momo,” Momota said, pressing his hands against his cheeks, which were still warm from the memory. Rina, who had asked the question in the first place, responded disinterestedly with a "Hmm."

“I didn’t think you really had a lover,” Rina said, sipping her Coke through a straw.

“I don’t sense you ever meet them,” she added.

“We only meet two or three times a month,” Momota explained.

“What’s that about? Can you even call that a relationship?” 

Momota stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray.

“Ron-chan is busy, you know. A serious civil servant, not someone who just messes around like you.” 

Rina made a face and scoffed, “Lame.”

“What do you mean, ‘lame’? Working seriously is important. You should either find a job or get married instead of drifting around.”

“Then I’ll work at your shop,” Rina said, wiping her sauce-stained mouth with a napkin.

“Sorry, but we only hire real married women,” Momota replied.

“Then marry me. I’ll be your wife and work at the shop,” she suggested.

“Why would I marry you? You’ve got a boyfriend, right? Be their wife instead,” Momota shot back.

Rina frowned.

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Momota remembered the guy in the knit cap who had been sitting next to Rina at the bar, Paul.

“The guy who was next to you at that bar, Paul, isn’t he your boyfriend?”

“You mean Mizuki?”

“I don’t know his name. Is he a yakuza?” 

“Who knows? I don’t really care. I just buy ‘the fast stuff’ from him. But when I ran out of money, I let him do it a few times, and now he’s strangely attached to me. Well, I pretend to like him because it’s convenient that way,” Rina explained.

Whether he’s yakuza or just a drug dealer, the danger is all the same. In fact, dealers might be worse, slowly destroying both body and mind with drugs.

“If you don’t like him, then break it off and quit that stuff too,” Momota said.

“What are you talking about? You did it too,” Rina snapped.

“I’m telling you because I’ve been there. Staying on that path leads nowhere good. Drug connections are fragile; they’ll betray you in a heartbeat. It’ll mess with your mind,” he warned.

Rina responded with a lazy “Hmm.”

“You sound so full of yourself.”

“I’m speaking from experience. I’ve been through a lot of pain,” Momota replied.

Rina looked up at him with a sly grin. 

“If I get into trouble, will you save me, Momota?”

“Save you…?” 

“If you’re going to lecture me, take responsibility,” she demanded.

A memory from six years ago flashed through Momota’s mind. At his lowest point, when he thought things couldn’t get any worse, he had said the same thing to Ron-chan: “Take responsibility.”

Ron-chan had done exactly that—caring for him without pushing him away, despite his burdensome presence, and bringing him more happiness than he ever deserved.

“I can’t take responsibility for you,” Momota confessed, running his hands through his hair.

“Taking responsibility means taking care of someone completely, right? I’m still leaning so much on Ron-chan. I can barely handle myself... I don’t have the confidence to take care of someone else.”

“So, you’re just irresponsible, huh?” Rina pointed a finger at him.

“I’m saying this because I don’t want to be irresponsible. You’re still young and pretty enough. Just quit the dangerous stuff and get married.”

“...That’s boring,” Rina muttered, lightly kicking Momota’s leg under the table.

“What’s boring about it? It’s marriage! Living with someone you love—that’s the best thing, isn’t it?”

Rina arched her beautifully shaped eyebrows and shrugged. “Are you seriously saying that?”

◇:-:◆:-:◇

From that day on, I stopped hearing from Rina completely. One day I thought, "She didn't email me today," and the next day, and the day after that, nothing. No emails, no phone calls, nothing at all.

Maybe it was because she was young and I kept nagging her to quit drugs, and she got fed up with talking to me. If that's all it was, I wouldn't be too worried, but there was one thing that really bothered me.

What if she was dead? Rina was quite the junkie. If she just stuck to using meth, she probably would have known how to keep herself in check. But when Mizuki, the dealer, started mixing up cocktails, that’s when things got really bad. Cocktails are made by mixing two or more drugs. If done right, you can get a drug that combines various effects for the ultimate high, but mixing them is tricky. Even if you’re careful, you could end up dead.

Once, a dealer who used to hang out with me made a cocktail himself. Since he didn’t know what the effects would be, he tricked a junkie he knew into testing it. He was too scared to try it himself—that’s how dangerous it was.

Rina wasn’t a good person, but she had warmed up to me. Maybe I was worried about her because I saw my own reckless past reflected in her.

On the fourth day, for the first time, Momota sent Rina a message.

“Hey, are you okay?”

There was no reply to the short email. Momota didn't know where Rina lived. He didn't even know her real name. With her phone disconnected, there was no way to get in touch with her.

Losing contact with drug buddies happened a lot. Some would get caught up in incidents or die, but sometimes you’d think someone had vanished, and then, two years later, you’d bump into them in a bookstore. No one ever makes a big announcement about quitting drugs. It’s something you just do when you feel ready. Momota thought, "If Rina has quit, that’d be good, I guess..."

◇:-:◆:-:◇

The day I was turned down for business by the underboss, Kimura called me to apologize, saying, "I'm sorry for making you feel bad."

"Kimura-san, please don’t apologize. I wasn’t bothered by it at all. I was the one who was being presumptuous, asking to handle goods from the Matsuzaka gang. I also understand why the underboss doesn’t want to deal with an ex-con like me."

"But Momo-san, you need money too, right?"

When I first pitched myself as a potential dealer, I had lied, saying I wanted to help my boyfriend pay off his debts. It seemed Kimura was still worried about that.

"Yeah, well... But I'll try reaching out to others."

"I really am sorry about this."

"Don’t worry about me; just go have fun with Kaori again."

I tried to say it in a way that wouldn’t make him feel guilty, but maybe it did make things awkward, because after that, Kimura stopped coming by the store. Then, right after April started, I got a call from him on my cell phone.

"Really, I'm sorry about last time. But about the business, can I ask you to take it on after all?"

The dealer gig that had suddenly flared back up again. I was on my way to the store, just before noon, and I stepped to the side of the road and hesitated before saying, "But... didn’t the underboss say it wasn’t going to happen?"

"We’re not in a position to be picky anymore. Sorry, it’s our problem. Seriously, these young guys nowadays aren’t reliable at all."

"Young guys? Did something happen again?"

Kimura fell silent on the other end of the line.

"I’m only telling you this, Momo-san, because I trust you. One of our dealers screwed up. And even though we have our own ways of handling it when someone screws up, this guy’s a real idiot."

I could feel Kimura's frustration radiating through the phone.

"Even though he’s an idiot, he’s still a member of the group and he’s one of the boss’s favorites, so we can’t just get rid of him quickly. We’re going to have him lay low for a while, which means we’re short on salespeople. We really need a replacement. You don’t have to worry about the boss. I’ll take full responsibility, so can I count on you, Momo-san?"

"Well, if that’s the situation, I understand. I could use the money, so I appreciate it."

"We’re really grateful on our end."

He thanked me and hung up. I had given up on getting involved with the Matsuzaka gang, so it was lucky that one of the young dealers had messed up. I was happy, but to be honest, I was also scared. I had a feeling there was no turning back now.

The very next day, Kimura contacted me to say that he would hand over the goods. At the subway station, on the platform, I received a coin locker key from a young guy with light brown hair.

I got on the train from there and got off two stations away. When I opened the locker there, I found a department store shopping bag inside. Just as instructed, I checked the bottom of the bag, which had a false bottom, and found another coin locker key.

Then I contacted Kimura again, and he directed me to a station three stops away. This meant going through two coin lockers. It showed just how cautious Kimura was, not even trusting the younger guys in the group.

In the second coin locker, there was another shopping bag from a well-known department store. When I peeked inside, I found a single cigarette case.

I took the bag and went straight to a stall in the station restroom. I checked the goods. Inside the cigarette case were ten packets of drugs, each wrapped in a gram-sized plastic bag. Even under the dim light of the bathroom, the crystals were beautiful—definitely top-quality stuff.

He had asked me to sell them for 60,000 yen each, so if I sold all of them, that would be 600,000 yen. I was supposed to get a 20% cut, which would be 120,000 yen.

I immediately sent Kimura a message: "I’ve checked the goods." As I had been told from the start, I deleted the message right after sending it. Kimura quickly replied, "Thanks, Momo-san," and I deleted that message right after reading it too.

In the bathroom stall, I tore open each plastic bag one by one and flushed the contents down the toilet. Once all ten bags were emptied, I flushed the toilet.

I threw the plastic bags that had contained the drugs and the department store shopping bag into a "Combustible Waste" trash bin outside the station.

After dumping the drugs I had received, I finally felt calm. Just getting caught with that stuff would mean years in prison. On top of that, I was already a three-time offender. Being a repeat offender meant there was a high chance they’d add more time to my sentence.

I remembered how I used to crave meth so much that I’d practically drool over it. But now, not only did I not want it, but I also felt good about being able to throw it away without a second thought. I realized, deep down, that I had completely quit.

A week later, I sent Kimura a message saying "Sold out." The next day, I was immediately summoned to "Paul," the bar where I had first shown my face to the underboss.

In Paul’s private room, Kimura was there alone. I handed over the 600,000 yen in proceeds. But since I had actually thrown the drugs away, I didn’t make any profit. I had dipped into my savings.

Since I no longer had to send money to my sister-in-law, and she even started sending money back to me with a note saying "I’m returning it," my bank account had a balance I could never have imagined. I worked hard every day, didn’t gamble or use drugs, and aside from occasionally going out to eat with Ron-chan and buying my nephews gifts for Christmas and their birthdays, I had no expenses. Naturally, my savings grew.

"Momo-san, you really are reliable."

Kimura sat on the dark green sofa, checking each bill one by one, with a grin on his face. I took a sip of the beer he offered me, saying, "You must be thirsty too."

"At first, I wasn’t sure if I could sell it all, but when I hinted at it to some of my old drug and prison buddies, they swarmed in all at once."

Kimura nodded happily, saying, "I see, I see..."

"That’s why I kept saying from the beginning that you were the right choice, Momo-san, but the underboss is just so stubborn. Even though I told him that because you’ve been busted before, you’d be careful, he wouldn’t listen."

Kimura exhaled a puff of smoke from his cigarette.

"You think you could handle a bit more?"

"Hmm, let’s see..."

I thought about it. If I pretended to move a lot of product right from the start, I’d run out of money quickly.

I remembered when I picked up the goods. Kimura was cautious and used his subordinates for the handoff. I never spoke with those subordinates, and Kimura had warned me, "Don’t say a word." He didn’t trust his own men and had us go through two coin lockers.

In the end, I never got a chance to talk to anyone from the Matsuzaka gang except Kimura. Because of the recent bust, Kimura was being extremely careful about trading information. I couldn’t snoop around him, and without contact with other members, I wouldn’t get any information.

If I wanted to get deeper inside—for example, if I accepted a sake cup and became a full member—I knew I’d have a better flow of information, but I didn’t want that.

So, if I wanted to gather even fragments of information, it would be wiser to maintain a long, slow relationship.

"I feel like I could handle more, but if I go too flashy, who knows where I might draw attention. Can we keep it the same as last time?"

"Momo-san, you’re cautious, aren’t you?" Kimura nodded slightly. Maybe it was because I had sold ten grams in a week, but he’d been in a good mood from the start. Now seemed like a good time to ask a bit more, so I took a chance.

"There was a big bust the other day, wasn’t there?"

"A bust?"

"Yeah, the cops raided and took a lot of product, didn’t they?"

Kimura’s expression, which had been cheerful, stiffened slightly. I pretended not to notice and continued.

"Despite that, you’ve got a good supply of product, don’t you?"

Kimura muttered, "Yeah, well..."

"Well, this is a crucial source of funding for us. We’ve got a few routes. Right now, we’re covering it with domestic production."

"What? You can make it in Japan too?"

Kimura laughed, "Haha."

"If you have the equipment, you can make it. If you knew the production cost, you’d be shocked, Momo-san."

"Really..." I responded, leaning over the table.

"I’d love to see where it’s made."

"What are you, a kid on a field trip?" Kimura said, lighting another cigarette.

"Why not? We could do a tour with some junkies. It’d sell out in no time, guaranteed."

I probed for information while joking around. Unaware, Kimura found the idea of a "junkie tour" hilarious, shaking his shoulders with laughter.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

The last time I saw Ron-chan was just after the middle of March. I was getting emails from him every two or three days, but they were still along the lines of "I’ve been pulling all-nighters" or "I haven’t been back to the dorm in three days," so he seemed as busy as ever. In the meantime, April slipped into its latter half, and the cherry blossoms along the streets started falling in full force. I wanted to go cherry blossom viewing with Ron-chan... but at this rate, it looked like the flowers would be gone before we had the chance.

It was the day after I handed in the second round of proceeds to Kimura. For the first time in almost a month, I got a call from Ron-chan, not an email, saying, "I want to see you right now."

"What, right now?"

I hurriedly checked the clock. It was exactly 9 p.m. Even though the business hours at "Punish Me♪ Emanuel Club" had ended, I still had to wait until the girls who were out returned. I wanted to see him as much as he wanted to see me, but I couldn’t just abandon my job.

"I need to wait for the girls, and I have to collect the money, so I have to stay at the office for another two hours. But I’ll try to get back as soon as I can."

"I need to see you, no matter what."

His voice was tense. Something was wrong, I thought. Usually, Ron-chan would back off if I explained my reasons. He wouldn’t force his needs on me. But if he was insisting on seeing me, something must have happened.

"...Just wait a bit. I'll call you right back."

After hanging up the phone, I hurriedly called out to Shimazaki, the part-timer who was about to leave.

"Hey, Shima-chan, I’ve got an urgent matter. I’m sorry, but could you stay until the last girl comes back? I’ll pay you time and a half for the overtime."

Maybe it was the time and a half that convinced him because Shimazaki agreed immediately, saying, "Sure, I wasn’t going to do anything even if I went home."

I quickly tallied up the sales and separated the girls’ shares. I put the remaining sales in the safe and locked it. I handed the key, attached to a keychain, to Shimazaki.

"I’ve already put the girls’ shares in envelopes with their names on them, so give them their money when they get back. If the boss comes, give him the final sales and the safe key. If there’s anyone who extends their time, mark ‘E’ next to their name on the day shift sheet and note the number of extensions. I’m sorry, but tell the girls they’ll have to wait until later for their overtime pay."

"Got it!"

While I cleaned the girls’ break room, I also called Suzuhara to let him know I had to leave early due to an urgent matter and that I had left Shimazaki in charge.

"I gave Shima-chan the keys. Also, the safe combination is now 3657."

"You changed it again?" Suzuhara muttered.

"I change it once a month. We don’t keep much cash in the store, but it’s in a busy area, so you never know about thieves or anything."

"Ah, yeah, I got it."

"Alright... Sorry for the sudden early leave today."

It took me about 15 minutes to get everything sorted. I called out to Shimazaki, "Shima-chan, I’m counting on you," then grabbed my navy jacket in my right hand and headed out of the office. While walking, I called Ron-chan.

"Ron-chan? It’s me. I’m heading home now."

"Don’t go back to your apartment."

I stopped in my tracks in the middle of the street, surprised.

"I want to meet outside. Do exactly as I say from now on."

"Oh, okay..."

"Take a taxi from there and go to the station."

"What? Take a taxi? I can just walk there."

"Momo, just do as I say!"

Ron-chan’s voice was unusually stern, so I reluctantly agreed, "…Alright."

I got in a taxi and went to the station as instructed. From there, he told me to take the train, get off at the second station, and board a train on the opposite platform. I got off four stops later and exited the station. After a three-minute walk, I boarded a subway at a nearby station, got off three stops later, and went to the business hotel "Takamura" in front of the station. I checked my surroundings as I was warned, but there was no one around.

After getting off the elevator, I ran to room 403. I knocked three times as instructed, and the door swung open, pulling me into the room.

The room was even simpler and smaller than a love hotel. The bed was a single, and the lighting was dim. Ron-chan stood in front of me with his arms crossed, his face pale and looking almost angry.

"Ron-chan, I..."

He had me take a taxi and frequently change trains... I had a feeling.

"Is it something dangerous...?"

Suddenly, he grabbed me by the collar and shoved me against the wall. My back hurt.

"You promised, didn’t you? You promised you wouldn’t do anything bad. You promised that if I was around, you wouldn’t do anything bad."

"…Ron-chan..."

Realizing he was getting emotional, Ron-chan let go of my collar and walked over to the bed, collapsing onto it. He hung his head low and pressed his right hand against his forehead.

"...You’ve been marked by the Organized Crime Division of the Mejiro Police Station as a drug dealer."

"Oh, I see."

"'Oh, I see'? Are you serious?!"

Ron-chan yelled at me, lifting his head.

"What the hell are you thinking?!"

"What do you mean...?"

I looked down.

"Did you want the meth, or was it the money?"

"…Well, um..."

As I hesitated, Ron-chan got up from the bed. He walked over to me, grabbed my right hand, and cuffed it with a loud click.

"R-Ron-chan!"

I screamed.

"I’m taking you to the station."

Ron-chan's eyes were deadly serious.

"Y-you can’t be serious!"

"I don’t care what the charges are. I’ll make up whatever I need, obstruction of justice or whatever. It’s better to have you in a detention cell than leave you like this."

He didn’t sound like he was joking. No, Ron-chan never jokes. If this keeps up, I’ll really be taken to the police station.

"Wait a minute! I might be able to get them to take me on a tour!"

Ron-chan frowned at the word "tour," and I quickly shut my mouth in a panic.

“What kind of tour?” 

“Well, um...” 

“Momo!” 

Ron-chan yelled, glaring at me, and I slowly looked down. 

“Be honest. If you don’t talk, I’ll take you to the station right now.” 

W-what should I do…? I thought, but if I kept silent and ended up being taken to the station and detained, all my efforts so far would go to waste. I had no choice but to talk. 

“I’ve been getting asked by some yakuza in the Matsuzaka gang, who I know, if I wanted to ‘become a dealer.’ So, I…” 

Ron-chan, looking frustrated, grabbed my collar tightly. I hurriedly added, 

“I-I’m just pretending to be a dealer. I haven’t sold anything. I haven’t used anything either. I threw it all away in the toilet right after I got it.” 

“Why would you waste it like that...” he started to say, but then Ron-chan’s eyes widened. 

“No way...” 

“They found drugs coming in from overseas, but the supply here seemed oddly good. They’re making it somewhere in Japan. I can’t get much out of them because they’re being careful, but if I find out where, I’ll tell you right away, Ron-chan.” 

“No one asked you to do that!” 

Ron-chan shook his head as if he was trembling. 

“I just want to be helpful to you, Ron-chan.” 

“It’s not about being helpful or not. Momo, you’re a civilian, and they’re yakuza. They don’t care about rules. If they find out, they’ll kill you!” 

I laughed. “Haha.” 

“I’m not going to make such a stupid mistake. They trust me a lot. And you want information, right, Ron-chan? I want you to catch a lot of bad guys and rack up a lot of achievements.” 

“...Momo...” 

“It’d be such a waste, you know? Just one step away from finding out where they’re making the drugs...” 

“No!” 

Ron-chan interrupted me. 

“I’m happy that you care, really happy, but you can’t. I don’t want information so badly that I’d put you in danger. Cut all ties with the Matsuzaka gang after today. The Organized Crime Division doesn’t have any concrete evidence yet. If you pull out now, you’ll be fine.” 

“But...” 

“If you don’t stop, we’re done!” 

He said it with such serious eyes that I swallowed my words. I wanted to help Ron-chan. But if he dumped me, that would be the end of everything. 

“Do as I say.” 

I looked down without answering. Ron-chan’s fingers gently brushed my cheek. 

“Momo, answer me.” 

“Alright...” I replied in a small voice. At the same time, he hugged me so tightly that it hurt. 

“...I love you.” 

I heard a whisper in my ear. 

“I love you so much, but please, don't do anything that will make me worry myself to death.”

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