Violations Only Count If They Were Committed by Others

It took a day for Raven to realize that my warning was genuine. Obviously. Why would I lie about something that could be easily verified later? The news was infuriating to Raven in three ways. First, she lost her only informant for the article that she was writing. Second, guess who wrote the article about Kenji’s arrest? None other than Ueshima Hideka, the person Raven pettily saw as her rival. The third? I was right, and I didn’t even have to say ‘I told you so.’

As a pointless way to relieve her guilt, Raven bought a bouquet of daisies and went to the hospital. She hadn’t lost all her rationality yet, since she knew to pick a time where fewer people would be present, and put on a simple disguise of a pair of blue contact lenses, a red wig, and a face mask. She had never shown her real face to Kenji, and she wasn’t about to start now.

“If you had listened to me, he could have avoided the fight and evaded arrest.” I reminded Raven while she roamed the halls of the sickly, a place sanitized and disinfected.

“You said that he was guilty of both the assault and money laundering.”

“I still could have exonerated him.”

“No, thanks. I’m not letting bad people go free. If I had known about this side hustle of his, I totes wouldn’t have hit him up at all.”

Saying these words after the fact is always simple. And Raven did so with less effort than most.

“Someone is around the corner,” I said.

Raven dragged her quick stroll into distinct tapping from each step. Part of me expected her to dash over. She peeked out from behind the wall at the ‘someone’ that lay beyond.

Sat on the waiting bench outside Kenji’s room, fingers flew across the keyboard of a laptop, dark-blue eyes flitted past the screen. A mismatch of fashion sense, her pink hair particularly caught one’s attention, almost distracting enough to mask the dark-green wooly turtleneck that looked like moss was growing out of her body. A whiff of perfume that was clearly trying too hard. Ueshima Hideka, in the flesh.

Her name was also kind of long, but I would still call her Hideka; poor girl got enough nicknames from Raven already.

Raven flinched at the sight of Hideka and hurried in the opposite direction, skirting the edge of a pace that would be considered natural, until she burst through the door to the fire escape and waltzed into the backstairs area. The place was still without privacy; a camera, housed within a small glass dome, hung from the ceiling, greedily devouring data.

While pretending to be on the phone, Raven spoke to me. “Why is she here?”

“She’s a journalist. And there’s journalizing to be done here.” Of course, there was more to it than this, but I wasn’t about to give away this information for free.

Raven thought for a moment. “Get me a spot working under her.”

“Excuse me?” My tone was filled with exasperation, but this in fact meant nothing to me. She could ask me to rob a bank for all I care. I only wanted to frame this as a favor.

“It’s a chance for you to make up for all the sketchy things that you have done. Help me uncover the truth behind that evil underground trade held by those rich, entitled assholes. You said you would be useful to me, right?” Never mind a favor, I forgot how entitled she was. The saying is right about the pot calling the kettle black.

Still, I hated being coerced like this. “I don’t know. You said it yourself. You don’t need me. Why would I help you?”

“Out of the goodness of your heart?” Said a girl who had never worked a nine-to-five job in the entirety of her life.

“Do I need to explain the concept of wage labor to you?”

“Don’t switch the topic.”

It was definitely on-topic.

“I’ll do it. But you have to promise, on your mother’s name, that you won’t ignore me anymore.”

“Why do you have to bring my mother into this?”

“Is that a yes?”

Reluctantly, Raven gave the slightest nod. But I needed a clearer commitment.

“Say it.”

“What?”

“Swear on your mother’s name, out loud.”

“Ugh, fine.” And she repeated my demand word for word, hesitant when she got to the part about her mother, but it was unambiguous enough as leverage for later.

“Pleasure doing business with you. And now, if you’ll excuse me, relax and enjoy the show.” I seized control from Raven, and flung the exit door open to get back into the sanitized halls, tossing the daisies into a nearby bin. “I’m gonna smack her for you.”

“Wait, wait. I’m asking you to befriend her, not piss her off.”

“Can’t people take a joke nowadays?”

Under my dominion, Raven’s gait exuded a natural boldness; deliberately I made each step as noticeable as possible, while maintaining a trace of elegance in the rhythm of the knocks on the vinyl flooring. It was as if Raven’s body was mine all along.

Hideka looked up from her laptop, realizing that I had slipped into the seat next to her. I smiled with Raven’s face, which was surely pretty enough to mesmerize a straight woman.

“Hello, nice to meet you. My name is Midorikawa Karasuya. If I’m not mistaken, you are Ueshima-senpai, right?”

“Senpai? I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Have you forgotten me already, senpai? I get it. We barely interacted during class, but I was always admiring you from afar, too timid to approach you. But now, I just couldn’t let this chance slip away.”

“Class? Can you be a little more specific?”

I knocked on my head playfully. “Sorry, my bad. I was talking about the journalism class. Back at the Konjiki-Koi University.”

The mention of her school brought up some unpleasant memories for Hideka; her gaze drifted away, inward to reminders of the distance she had from her goal. “You have the wrong person. You must have remembered my little sister, Ueshima Chiaki. She was two years younger than me, but only one year under me at Konjiki-Koi University.”

“I know who Ueshima-san is too. Our alma mater still has her on the distinct alumni webpage. But I was in the same class as you, not Ueshima-san.”

“Then why are you calling me senpai? Call me Ueshima-san.”

Of course, I referred to her as my senior for a reason. “But you are my senpai as a working journalist. And sure, your sister’s fame is impressive too. But I admire you more, since you built everything up all by yourself. Don’t forget that you started the viral online news platform The Light’s Spear.”

“I only got lucky in having a successful reporter as a sister. I still rely on her for many of my contacts. ‘All by myself?’ You couldn’t be more mistaken, Midorikawa-san.”

That self-deprecation was the cue to enact my plan, and so I gave Ueshima’s forehead a light smack. I wasn’t joking about this after all.

“Hey, what’s that for?” Hideka rubbed her forehead.

“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t resist after hearing that. You insulted my idol! You! You are my idol! I tried so hard to be a journalist like you, but I just couldn’t. And hearing you put yourself down like that, it breaks my heart. This is more than being humble. Do you know how many online journalists can make a living off their news sites? And without the backing of a company. All I can think of is your platform and the infamous Justice’s Missionary.”

Just saying ‘Justice’s Missionary’ out loud made me question Raven’s naming sense. Well, time to insult her site as ‘part of the act’.

I continued, “But your site is much better than that barely legal one. I want to learn from you. Not anyone else. Not that slimy rascal who hides behind anonymity. Not your sister. You. So… please let me learn from you.” And I topped off the outpour of emotions with a ninety-degree bow.

Hideka stared at me. The wave of compliments took a while to compute in her head. “Tell me. Out of all the articles I have written, which one is your favorite?”

“For sure, the one about the Lucky Wisp scandal.” An article that wasn’t appreciated, got her in hot water, and was buried by the later reporting of larger news organizations and corporate responses, but it was the one that she uncovered solely on her own. The only time she beat her sister, at least in her mind.

Hideka’s expression barely changed, but her inner world was quaking. She kept it in check, barely, straining herself to utter a simple sentence. “Can you give me your Line ID?”

Mission accomplished. I thanked her a few more times. Raven was already snatching back control of her body, pulling her body from the seat; she couldn’t wait to walk away from Hideka. I managed to smooth over her sudden retreat with a chuckle and a friendly wave.

The moment I turned around, surrendering to Raven’s desire to flee from the humanity of her rival, a mutter slipped from her mouth, “She’s such a faker.”

This raven liked to call the kettle black, after all.