Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Hi. You must be dying of boredom right now.”

Just seeing the accursed name flit across his phone screen completely cut through the slight happiness that filled his body when Abby’s photo appeared in his messages. Edamura didn’t know why he accepted the call, maybe because he was mad that this was the first time after the con that the man was contacting him and his need to yell his feelings out hadn’t been satiated. But hearing the French drawl on the other end after that one sentence filled him with a burning annoyance. Before his mind could catch up to his movements, he had the phone right next to his ear.

“No! I’m actually fine, you blond bastard! I’m in Japan trying to live my life and you calling me is interrupting my research!” Edamura screeches into the phone, surprising the coffee shop owner in front of him considerably.

“Now, now, Edamame, don’t be so mad!” Laurent says with a smirk on his face, the cheers of the crowd drowning out his end a little bit. “I’m just wondering if you’d like some company on your fun coffee excursions. I can wrack up some vacation days and we could try some drinks together. You know, drink a cup in Rome, sip something nice in Wellington, I’d love to-”

“Stop,” Edamura abruptly cuts him off. "You already think I’ve forgiven you?”

Edamura’s words ring icily throughout the quaint shop. He lets out a shuddering sigh of barely contained rage and looks up to the kind Okinawan man in front of him, him looking in his direction with an afraid glance before averting his eyes. He probably couldn't understand his English but he could definitely recognize the international signals that someone was about to flip out. The ex-confidence man gives an apologetic look to the owner before shuffling his way out of the shop, letting him know, in Japanese, that he will be right back.

There are not enough words in the English OR Japanese vocabulary to express the anger flowing through Edamura’s body. Just a few weeks ago he had gotten done with one of the most traumatizing experiences in his life. His emotions had been deadened because he had heartlessly sold children, fucking children, to people all over Asia for the sole fact that he had believed he was the cause of his teammate’s deaths.  Numbed because he was the one responsible for putting a bullet through Cynthia and Abigail. Watched unfeelingly as his father’s body dropped limp into the Pacific Ocean with a bullet he provided himself. 

The overflow of emotions stemming from seeing all of them alive again was like being lifted out of a hole that he'd been buried in alive. Not realizing he had been suffocating under massive pressure and his lungs gasping for air and his hands clawing for a way out until it came rushing back to him in exhausting bursts of energy. Happy they were alive. Relieved he wasn't a murderer. Irritation at being left out of the plans once again.

And most of all, anger.

Anger at being conned once again, anger at himself for letting those poor kids be sold off to the elite, anger at his dad for trying to console him like he was still a child, and absolute rage at being treated as Laurent’s toy. Yelling his true feelings at Laurent and his father had been extremely cathartic, but did they really expect him to become buddy-buddy once more after years of abuse and lies?

His father, an actually decent human being, had gone to jail for one of the worst crimes in humanity to protect his own teammates. Laurent went on to complete the task of finding worthy confidence artists to help aid him in revenge for what the Shanghai mafia did to the carefree Dorothy. Shi-Won tagged along with the blonde con-artist on most cons because she knew that he couldn’t be left alone to deal with the fallout of losing his lover.

It's sad that he still believes what he said back at the fake tower to be true. Con artists being lone wolves was a massive lie, a bunch of narcissists working together conning the rich in what they believed to be faux justice.

He never wants to deal with Laurent's antics again. He is tired, purely tired, of being treated as someone incompetent, a liability. The amount of ‘trust’ Laurent had in Makoto was heavily outweighed by the trickery and duplicity of his actions over the past four years. He wanted to bring him back each time because what? He wanted something interesting on his cons, someone to make fun of, a nice outlier that he wouldn’t be able to predict? He'd heard from Ozaki how Laurent called him a "two-bit" swindler, someone he had to put in their place. Wasn't he the one to put him there in the first place? Edamura is done with that manipulative bullshit and now Laurent is pushing his buttons far too early in the day, no, the entire week, no, this entire year to suggest anything like going out for a cup of coffee. That was the extent of how much he did not want to deal with the sleazy buffoon. He’d make the French man repent for what he did.

They were not friends.

“Laurent, get this through your thick skull. I will never, ever voluntarily go out of my way to hang out with you. Call me if you want and I'll let it ring on. Text my number and I'll leave you on read. Maybe try taking a hint and focus on something that isn’t related to my life?” Makoto waits patiently after he bites back with his poisonous response, waiting for the blonde man to respond with something lighthearted, a taunt, or a coo of disappointment. All he hears from the line is a distant cheering in the background and Laurent’s steady breathing. Finally, he makes out a heavy sigh.

“Alright, Edamame. I’ll keep my distance. See you later.” A beep on the call signals that the man on the other side hung up, leaving Edamura standing stupidly with a phone near to his ear next to a couple of colorful tables outside the cafe.

The Japanese man is shocked at how calm and understanding Laurent sounded. It was as if he expected to get rejected so quickly. That only gets his mind angry again. How dare he try to call him like he’d forgive him so easily? Did he want Makoto to be mad at him? Did he live and breathe for the sole purpose of riling up his blood pressure? He takes a couple of deep breaths to calm down. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Once he feels significantly more serene, he stomps back to the coffee shop and sees the owner staring back at him quite curiously, almost with a glint of pity. Edamura immediately dismisses the thought of it as his back straightens and he bows low towards the owner, bellowing his apologies.

“ごめんなさい! 本当にごめんなさい! ご迷惑めいわくをおかけして、申もうし訳わけございません!” [ I’m sorry! I’m really sorry! I apologize for the inconvenience caused! ]. Makoto stumbles around his words, the blush on his face from embarrassment at his tone used when he initially picked up the phone. It must have looked extremely disrespectful to the older man.

The older man just smiles and pats his leg, looking a bit relieved now. “全然大丈夫です。 あなたは怒る正当な理由があったと確信しています。” [ It’s alright. I’m sure the other person deserved it. ] 

Makoto nods and sits down again, looking around the coffee shop once more. It was a really nice shop, with comfy long seats embedded into the trailer and the walls a rich yellow, full of optimism and warmth. The cup of coffee he had was also refilled, which was a blessing because the taste of it was splendid. Nice and lightly-roasted with a toasted toffee scent, a nippy start that bleeds into a sweet full finish, all with creamer and sugar cubes on the side in case he needed to thin it out (which wasn’t necessary because the coffee was too good to be desecrated like that). This place was one of the only shops in Okinawa to sell exclusively coffee and not their widely famous milk tea, allowing for the owner to really go in-depth on his supplier and selection process and how he came to appreciate the art of the brew.

Hours pass as the two of them discuss various types of beans and coffee and methods that best drew out coffee flavors (Makoto was a fan of the tried and true pour over while the man stuck by his guns with his ancient Moka pot). It is only when the sun is beginning to set when Edamura asks the question he has been dying to say the entire time.

“Where was the last place you had a really good cup of coffee?”

The older man looks at his Moka pot and laughs before recommending Makoto to a fine cafe in Noto, Italy that he visited 25 years ago. He mentions offhandedly that he hasn’t been there in 15 years but a quick Google Search finds it to be still open and extremely popular. He explains to the young coffee explorer how he had gotten one last cup of coffee by chance at a newly opened cafe just hours before his flight home. The taste of it had impacted him so much that he bought a Moka pot, the one sitting on the table, next door and opened a shop and to this day still dreams of going back. 

This is what Edamura had been wanting to hear. He's going to go on a coffee telephone adventure around the world and taste the best of what the owners have, then go and taste the best of what they have had. He wasn’t going to open his own shop just yet (and prove that French asshole right in that he, in fact, did want his own shop). He wanted to see how coffee has made these people’s lives happier and how they have been affected by it. Hearing Akemi mention how he helped her enjoy coffee more after trying his own made him sure of the fact that there were others who might be just like that. People who learned to love something they disliked in the past. People who changed their ways and became coffee lovers. He was going to achieve just that.

Somewhere almost 12,310 kilometers away from Okinawa, Japan, one French man turns off his phone and pulls out a gacha toy from his pocket. He sighs wistfully as he leans against the pillar, knocking his head against it as thousands of people cheer loudly for the man in front of him.

Noto, Italy has equally fine cups, or shots, of caffè espresso just for him. A charred, bitter texture fills his mouth before tartness flies across his tongue with a hint of a juicy blackberry aftertaste. The owner, a thin man with leathery hands and smiles lines carved into his skin, even suggests eating them with his signature creamy jumble berry cheesecake, on the house, which accentuates its acidic saccharine flavors even more. The region down here is not known for their berry production, so it shocks Edamura how he can supply himself with divine tart treats such as the cake. He recalls to Makoto as he dines about how he used to live up north and how he alone would travel almost 80 kilometers to the best berry farm in the countryside as a teenager. Bringing some back home on a cart, he'd make this very cheesecake with his mom once he got home. The idea to open his own shop came when he was able to visit Poland for a cup of coffee that had tasted exactly like his mom’s cake and he needed to share these flavors with others down south. His sons and daughters, living back up in his hometown, recommend him to the locals who'll ship him quality ingredients for cheap. Edamura nods and smiles at the response, entranced at the atmosphere of family that surrounded this place.

The Japanese man takes a picture of the delicious food and scenery laid out in front of him then sends it to all of his previous members of the confidence team, barring Laurent. Knowing him, he would just re-engineer the background and contact each teenager in the group by the bush to find out where he went. It was petty, he knows, but he doesn’t care. He leaves the cafe with the shopkeeper's recommendation to Turin, Italy and a phone number, satisfied with the experience. A little spring in his step, he seemingly misses the old man remark on how nice Koreans are these days.

The day before he leaves for Turin, however, his suspicions become true. A message appears on his phone screen while he packs his suitcase.

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

Edamame, you leave for Italy right when I suggest you and I go to Rome? Aren’t you being a little too obvious? *insert image*

It was the image of him and his food. He sends back a heated response, fingers mashing his touchscreen.

[From: Edamame]

Who the fuck gave you that photo? I’ll delete everyone’s number off my phone and you’ll never hear from me again. 

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

I thought you'd block my number if I texted you or was that another one of your bad lies?

And it was Cynthia. And Abby. And Kudo. And Oz. You even sent the photo to Shi-Won! If you’re going to send it to people you and I both know, of course they’re going to circulate it back to me, my little soybean.

[From: Edamame]

Dumbass bitch, I said that to deter you. Even if I blocked you I'm sure you have my phone number saved to, like, 20 other burners.

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

You know me so well, soybean. 😚 I'll be sure to receive anymore photos from you from the others we know.

[From: Edamame]

(҂⌣̀_⌣́) Jesus Christ, I hate all of you. Especially you, Laurent. Keep your distance, remember?

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

Yes, I know. Invite me next time. See you later. ❤❤❤

[From: Edamame]

As if, jackass! 🖕🏼

On the other hand, Turin’s coffee starts off rough, salty, and slightly acrid, surprising Edamura the first time it touches his taste buds. He had been expecting a flavor similar to caffè macchiato, judging by the deep brown roast surrounding a small dollop of cloudy foam in the middle of the cup. For a second, he is almost disappointed in the man in Noto.

Almost.

After only a quick five seconds, his hand reaches back and he begins sipping at it more vigorously. It's just as addictive as the previous two coffees. The main selling point, Edamura finds, is in its delayed distribution of a rich chocolatey texture, velvety across the tongue, which washes away the previous flavors and leaves behind just a hint of the bland cream in his mouth like an intense hot chocolate. Not surprising, however, as the Nutella culture certainly has its hold in Turin. This shop is also known for providing a decadent feast for the sweet-toothed as he tries the coffee with a selection of bread, cookies, and fruits available to be dipped in chocolate-hazelnut fondue. Edamura has to hold back his sobs at how delicious the gooey chocolate is with his drink and calls one of his contacts immediately to have someone to share his feelings with.

“Edamame! How’s Italy treating you?” 

“It’s so good! Oh god, it’s so good.” Cynthia is definitely surprised to hear sobbing on the other end despite his enthusiastic response. She knew the man was afraid of heights but to be afraid of coffee was unheard of.

“That’s great! But... why are you crying?” 

Cynthia’s curiosity leads her down a rabbit hole of trying to understand Makoto’s still tricky English accent through his joyful tears. Edamura’s explanation of the food entertains her as well, trying to explain how the ‘pungent’ coffee pairs perfectly with the ‘flaky exterior’ of the buttered bread and how the chocolate fulfills the role of ‘umami’ despite not being something umami at all. He sounds like one of those pretentious art critics, to the likes of Coleman, but so unlike them in the fact that his appreciation for the food is entirely genuine and without underlying intentions.

“It’s a really good place! I need to take you here if we ever get the chance to meet up! What are you doing right now?”

“Well, I’m currently visiting a mutual friend of ours in the States with Kawin while we go on an art tour. I’d bring him across Europe but he’s never been outside of Eurasia so I want to treat him, the poor lad.”

Makoto’s eyes widen as he hears she’s meeting up with a friend. What if she’s with Abigail in Nevada? That would be so nice since it’s been a while since he’s heard from the ferocious girl.

“Oh, okay! Let’s do a voice call then!” Edamura taps his screen with his free hand and looks at his phone excitedly, ready to see Abigail. A few moments later, the screen begins moving and he can see Cynthia holding her phone horizontally to get the widest view of her surroundings using her front camera. Kawin, the small boy from the auction house, moves alongside her left in the streets of some city.

And on their right, lo and behold, is Laurent Thierry idly strolling beside them in what he now recognizes as downtown Washington D.C.

"NOOOOOOO!"

His scream of pure terror pairs with him immediately turning off his front camera, muting himself, and throwing the phone in his backpack with precise aim, causing the ancient lady behind the counter to jerk in surprise and look at him with a bewildered stare. Grabbing his face in his hands and thrashing around in anguish, he whips his death glare, which had been directed at the phone, to her momentarily and she yelps before escaping behind a wall. His fondue sits in front of him, bubbling steadily like the bubbling anger in his stomach. Why the hell did Laurent always have to appear each time he went to a new city? All he wanted to do was drink coffee and talk to people. He even called Cynthia because he wanted someone familiar and nice to talk to about his food, but the French playboy seemed to be everywhere he went!

Sadly, he still has his wireless headphones on and he could hear outright laughter coming from the other end. Cynthia is howling into the speaker, probably catching the attention of quite a few passersby in the United States. Edamura huffs to himself as he grabs the coffee in front of him and sips aggressively. He could only hear Cynthia laughing so he only assumed Laurent was not in on the call.

“Oh, god, Laurent, come here. No, come here while I get the tickets, it’s hilarious! I have just the thing to cheer you up.” Makoto groans as he hears shuffling through his headphones and someone’s delighted gasp on the other end. He picks up on how the phone had transferred ownership and is now in the French man’s slimy grasp. What he doesn’t pick up on until it starts pouring into his ears is the sultry tone of voice that violates his eardrums.

“Oh, Edamame, how I’ve missed you...” Makoto shrieks loudly once more as he throws his headphones into his bag too before he could hear the words move forward, catching even more stares from not just the quivering cashier behing the wall but the people in the back baking goods. He nods slowly in their direction, mentally noting how he’d give them extra money for dealing with his insane behavior, and fishes the headphones and phone out of his bag. He puts them on and turns his camera back on just as Laurent was apparently finishing his speech.

“...please, let me know where you go next, Edamame. I would love to share some chocolate fondue with you, mon chéri.” The Japanese man sighs and looks right into his camera, a disappointed glare on his face at the beaming white man in a tidy brown suit.

“I threw my headphones into my bag as soon as you started speaking. I heard not a word you said.” Laurent’s face is worth the insult as Edamura begins cackling at the affronted look on him. He continues eating at his delicious dessert, picking a banana up and dunking it as Laurent begins speaking once more but this time in a less sexual manner.

“It's fate, my little soybean. The world is telling us to make up. I want to eat with you Edamame. Just one cup of coffee with you, please. Just one.”

“No.”

“Aw, don't be like that, Eda-”

“No.”

"But I truly miss you, my l-"

"No." Makoto had propped his head on the table by now, staring out the window with a bored glance. The French man would get the message soon enough.

“Edamura.” Makoto glances at the screen again, surprised at hearing Laurent say his name correctly for the first time. The blonde man’s face is still slightly playful, a smirk falling on it rather easily. His eyes, however, his infuriatingly entrancing blue eyes, are serious. Usually, during their past cons, they’d be light and airy, almost reflective of the blonde’s airheaded persona. But now, they hold a storm just aching to be loosed, something that might become dangerous if Makoto leaves it be for a while. He looks at the storm in its eyes and glares daggers.

“Yes, Laurent?”

Laurent, sighing in relief now that he has Edamura’s attention, looks into the screen again with a pleading pout. “I can’t keep my distance from you anymore. You already left me for two years in jail once. Please, Edamame, let me know when we can meet up. I have a week saved for travel already. I would love to see you again.”

“Why bother when you can just ask one of your connections where I go?”

“Because I want you to start trusting me.” Trust? The bubbling inside of Edamura increases with the word. It hadn’t even been two weeks since Noto and the bastard was already vying for his trust?

“Now you want me to trust you? Now you want me to just let you in so you can stomp over my emotions again? Cause another ruckus that I’ll have to deal with myself? Well, tough shit!” His words are whispered heavily but Makoto could feel the worried glance of all the workers inside the shop, catching all of his intense movements with rapid eyes. On the outside, he looks absolutely furious.

On the inside, he’s a mess. Edamura doesn't like it but knows he’s just elongating the inevitable. He’s going to one day meet Laurent, the blonde man will talk him through some emotions that he expressed during the heist and unmentioned ones that have yet to be opened up about, then they’ll shake hands and be on their merry way. It was inevitable and he knew it was inevitable because he felt in his gut that he’d forgive him. He hated how correct Laurent had been back when they met in Los Angeles, how he mentioned so casually, while eating buttered lobster, that he was trying to act like a bad boy when really he was innocent and kind. It burned his heart in the worst way possible because he wanted to be able to hold onto this one grudge and fly off the handle each time the French man crossed his vision and entered his ear and texted him. The Suzaku Empire was the closest he’d gotten to fulfilling that grudge. Those months messed him up so badly that he wanted to wring the life from the blonde man. But it wasn’t something that was in Makoto’s blood. He couldn’t even bear to stay angry at his dad when he found out that he did in fact visit his mom during her final months. He could never let his emotions overtake him like that again, he was too genuine.

And he hates that about himself.

He stares back into the phone screen and immediately regrets it when he sees the disheartened look in the bastard's face. And fuck, the bastard is pouting now.

“Edamura, I just want to hang out. We don’t have to discuss anything. I just want to see you. I miss you.” The crack in Edamura’s heart grows larger as he hears the man beg to him so softly, so seriously, so calmly. His carefully woven honeyed words making it hard to keep his facade. It cools his emotions, despite how much his insides were screaming to stay livid. He couldn’t deal with this extra baggage right now.

“Give me one moment.” Edamura hangs up the call and walks up to the owner, who with just his luck is the cashier he spooked terribly. He smiles nervously at the Italian woman, looking around her late seventies with curly white hair. She watches him warily and trembles like a leaf in the wind, almost expecting the Korean man in front of her to throw something in her direction or yell loudly. He gives her a remorseful smile and asks her where she had her last good cup of coffee in the world.

She responds.

Edamura nods in affirmation and returns to his table. He scrolls to his contacts and sees Laurent’s name shining right in front of him. His thumb hovers over the name, the word almost beckoning him to touch it. What good would seeing the bastard again do for his psyche? He had never heard the man say sorry, so maybe hearing him say it to his face would help them both move on? But had he already moved on from Dorothy? He wasn’t sure now.

Regardless, he has a choice to make.

Meanwhile in Washington D.C, Cynthia is busy pointing out multiple art pieces to Kawin and keeping an eye on Laurent who gives smiles to the statues around him with an empty look to his eyes. The one day he is able to come and hang out with her, and Edamame of all people had to call. She knew something dramatic would happen when she opened her phone and let it play out accordingly, making sure to capture it all with video recording. Edamame’s face when he saw Laurent would forever be on her camera roll.

But just as she is about to pull Kawin (and Laurent by extension) over to the next exhibit, she sees the tall man pull out his phone and a huge grin pops up on his face. Quietly, still holding her phone, she snaps a photo of the blonde man. A minute follows by as she waits with bated breath for her friend to finish his phone call. As he hangs up, the blonde man jaunts up to Cynthia and ruffles Kawin’s hair fondly. She raises an eyebrow at him curiously.

“So, I’m guessing Edamame came around?”

“Oh, yes he did. Can’t help my natural charm, it comes in handy every time.”

“This is why no one ever likes you, playboy. Especially your favorite snack.” Cynthia says as she rolls her eyes.

Laurent presses a hand to his chest. “You wound me with your cold words once again.”

“Where to then?”

Laurent smiles his trademark smirk, pointing at Cynthia and winking. “Cape Town.”

An hour passes as Makoto sits inside the food court of Cape Town International Airport, shielded from the hot South African sun, looking up and down the aisles for a familiar pink Hawaiian shirt. Both places the Italian woman had recommended were actually run by close friends of hers that she had met back during her own coffee adventures and operated near to each other. One was situated in metropolitan Cape Town for coffee and the other in Stellenbosch for wine, a nice change of pace, which they were both expecting to see him within the week. His plan was that he had only told Laurent about the one in Cape Town and would sneak off a couple of days later to enjoy some fine wine without the presence of a wine snob like the French man. He would only be a buzzing fly in his ear at that point.

Sitting in his seat drinking a cold bottle of water, Makoto fails to notice familiar large hands clamp down on his shoulders. He yelps in surprise and turns around to find that, yes, it was indeed Laurent Thierry and he was in fact wearing his pink Hawaiian shirt and khaki pants. Edamura scowls as he remembers this was the get-up he got conned in the first time they met. The man wears the look like a natural, being able to blend into the tourist crowd so easily that Edamura could not notice him if he tried. The image of Laurent was a true embodiment of the word ‘dorky’, to a T, yet it made the man look more handsome than most of the people in the airport. It was a conundrum that stumped the Japanese man even to this day, glaring up at the French man in question who beamed down at him like he was the light of his world.

“Hola, Edamame! Qué tal?"

 Before he could respond with a despondent ‘I’m good, go jump off a cliff’, Edamura feels something soft press against his cheeks. Wait, his cheeks? It lasts a moment before releasing him. He touches the side of his face and looks back up at Laurent, who has the same exact expression of a cat who ate the canary, licking his own.

Laurent Thierry had just kissed him.

Almost immediately, Edamura shoots up and uppercuts the blonde flirt in the stomach, winding it back and forcing all his strength into the punch as if he was Luffy and Laurent was the Celestial Dragon. It seems Laurent was expecting just the punch but not the impact, so he doubles over in pain while all the tables around him seem to gather their attention at him.

“Oh my god, you scared me! Here, let’s go to the restroom!” Edamura begins speaking in choppier English that usual as he grabs Laurent by the waist and hauls him over his shoulder. He starts apologizing fervently as everyone diverts their attention away from the dangerous Japanese man who had socked the ever-living shit out of the French man. Apology after apology comes until they arrive at a deserted airport hallway away from most travelers. He finds a bench and, as soon as he is out of line of sight, catapults the French man onto the bench. His seething mood is now displayed proudly on his face.

“Are you trying to make me pissed off? Who the FUCK told you to do that?” He had been around the French man for 2 minutes and he had already pissed him off. He knew he was a horndog of a human being but to kiss him on the lips as soon as he arrived? That was something he did not approve of, not one bit.

Laurent is heaving on the bench, looking worse for wear but a smile still spreading on his face. “I couldn’t help myself, Edamame. Our reunion had me overwhelmed with joy.” He tries to sit up but he gasped and laid back down, once more trying to catch his breath. “You sure know how to pack a mighty punch.”

“I thought you would have learned when I decked you back in Japan but here we are, repeating the same mistakes.” Edamura’s cold words blanket over Laurent and he relaxes his body on the bench, staring into the Japanese man’s eyes before rolling up and into a sitting position, a hand still on his stomach. His expression softens as he roams his eyes over Edamura.

“I’m glad to see you again, Edamame.”

“The sentiment is not received. Our ride is here, so let’s go to the hotel.” Laurent nods and tries to get up but fails at the resounding pain in his stomach. Edamura, now feeling a bit more guilty than he did 20 seconds ago, rushes over to his side and helps the man to his feet. The both of them return to the food court where, miraculously, no one has stolen their luggage. Laurent insists on checking his luggage and once making sure no one had stolen a thing, they go off on their way.

The ride to the hotel is awkward, to say the least. The cab driver is fine with the both of them sitting in the back, but Laurent, still recuperating from being hit like a punching bag, decides not to lean against the hot plastic on the side of the cab but on Edamura himself. Unfortunately, he gets shoved off his shoulder rather forcefully and onto the hot window, but decides to lull back and forth between Makoto’s comfortable shoulder blade and getting pushed back onto the window.

They arrive at the hotel and, at the moment, it seems that Laurent is not aching as badly as he was an hour before. He steps gracefully out of the car and looks up at the five-star hotel that Edamura has chosen for both of them. The hotel stands high in the sky, overlooking both the Atlantic Ocean and the Indian Ocean with beachside access to the Atlantic. The entrance to the hotel is nice and air-conditioned, high ceilings adorned with intricately cut wood support beams and gleaming bronze chandeliers. The floor is spacious, save for a couple of fine leather couches and a check-in counter made of African blackwood. The South African flag hangs behind the front desk in a splash of color against the rustic modernism of the hotel with the hotel concierges also adorning vivid uniforms that match the flag. One such person, a black male with a practiced smile and multiple gold rings on his fingers fitted in a traditional African dress uniform, comes over quickly.

“Welcome to Ubukumkani Resort, the Kingdom of Cape Town. Sirs, welcome to our hotel. How may I help you?” The man states with a wide grin, apparently eager to help them out. Edamura smiles back at him and asks to be brought to the front desk and to check-in. Laurent whines way too close to his ear once he finds out they would be not sharing the same room until a swift kick to the back of the taller man’s legs silences him. For now.

Edamura had been following a concise plan for the past few coffees he’s tasted. Visit the city, try the coffee, stay there for a week to relax, and play tourist, then fly off to the next place recommended. It had worked well for the past month and a half of him traveling on his own all across Japan's small hole-in-the-walls right to the tip near Okinawa, then Italy. Now he is in South Africa with Loser Thierry and he wants to get the trip over and done with as quickly as possible. He’d enjoy discovering the oceanside activities of Cape Town and go on a more extensive wine tour of Stellenbosch if he had the chance, but dealing with Laurent for the next couple of days without the excuse of a con to keep him out of line of sight? Near impossible.

They were set to visit the coffee shop in two days and, for Edamura only, the winery in four. The old lady in Italy, who became much nicer once she found Makoto to not be an absolute asshole who purposely disrupted the sanctity of her quiet coffee shop but a kindred spirit on the quest to find a good cup of joe, let her friends know that he would be coming and they vowed to go above and beyond to ensure that he would enjoy their respective brews and fermentation. The entire coffee shop would be closed early in the morning and he’d be allowed in to get a taste of their newly shipped coffee beans and fresh pastries. It was like he was a renowned coffee critic now! However, the coffee shop owner declined to give him a personal number or even a name for contact keepsake because frankly, she was still too terrified of him despite his polite requests.

Over the next two days, Edamura (and Laurent, who insisted his need to adhere to Makoto’s ass like Flex Tape to a cracked glass container) visited all the tourist attractions of Cape Town including Kirstenbosch Botanical Garden and the Camps Bay Beach that lined the Atlantic shore. Laurent cheekily remarked as they walked beside the beach how they should go on an excursion together and dive deep into the ocean with white sharks. He’d protect him, Laurent had said grinning.

Edamura as he heard this stopped, glanced at him with a once-over, and replied, “I think I’m fine. A certain white shark already seemed to drown two of my friends in the past.”

Laurent was silent the rest of the walk back, Edamura’s smirk burning a hole into his neck.

Finally, the fateful day arrived. The Japanese man wakes up bright and early, having gone to sleep at 8 PM the night before to wake up bright and early to get to the coffee shop. He dresses and washes up in an incredibly quick amount of time before rushing to Laurent’s door and knocking on it, a smile plastered on his face.

“Hey, Laurent, time to get up! We have to be there by 5:30 AM if we want to get the coffee!”

No response. Edamura gives a knock again, a bit too chipper to allow someone like Laurent to ruin his day so early. Once more. No response. And so he again gives more tries. If truth be told, it was quite hilarious to be continuously knocking on the other man’s door, relishing in the fact that he now held the power between them and the possibility that he might be slightly ticking the French man off. Was this what Laurent felt for the first few years of knowing him? If so, it was helping purify Makoto’s soul to its previous pure state before he ever did conning. When he was about to knock for the fifth time, the door slams open, and out walks one very pissed Laurent. 

Nude as the day he was born.

Now, it was not as if Makoto knew he was naked. While he was knocking, he had closed his eyes and sung out to the door in the hopes he’d be able to wake his despondent partner. Once the door opened, he stood back with his eyes still closed, a cheeky grin on his face. 

On the other hand, Laurent had been rudely awakened by the very first knock, mind racing as he imagined it to be a figmentational Dorothy returning to him before remembering where he was and what he had done for her. Once that spun through his brain a few times like a computer loading symbol, he attempted to fall back asleep when he heard not one more series of knocks, not two more, but four more consecutive series of loud, maddening, sleep-disrupting knocks. Whoever this was, they did not realize it took time for him to get in the mood to be as charming as he is. Ire filled his body as he rushed to open the door, ready to bite the head off of the insolent person behind it who decidedly thought 4:17 AM was a great time for him to wake up on such a lovely day. And so, Edamura grinned, eyes closed as Laurent pulls back the door, eyes crazed and hair mussed.

“Finally, Mr. Thierry, I thought you’d never pick up! We have an arrangement this morning to drink some coffee. Please get ready,” Edamura rings out like an overly cheery neighbor, ready to start the day. Laurent lets out an angry groan and slaps his face around a bit, trying to wake himself up. He narrows his eyes at Makoto and lets out a resigned huff.

‘Yes, Edamame. Anything else you’d like to report?” 

“Nope, just wanted to know why you took so lo- AHHHH! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOUR CLOTHES!” Near the end of his sentence, Edamura opens his eyes to soak in the probably angry look of the man in front of him. Except, he soaks in the very angry look of the man in front of him and so, so much more than he had ever hoped for. His virginal eyes sting as he backs into a wall, sucking in large amounts of air at the sight of a naked Laurent Thierry that he is unable to pry his gaze from, eyes flitting everywhere. Meanwhile, the French man is unperturbed, if not slightly amused at the expected reaction.

“Did anyone ever tell you to wait a couple of seconds before knocking? It was like you were using my door as a percussion instrument.” 

“PUT SOME GODDAMN CLOTHES ON, YOU SICK PERVERT!”

“The only pervert around here is the one who smiled as I came out of my room naked, Edamame. Give me a couple of minutes to warm up before I go real heavy on your-”

“STOOOOOOOP!” Edamura bemoans and ultimately covers his eyes, squatting on the floor in an attempt to salvage his fallen pride. The French man on the other side of the door laughs and waves at Makoto, who can’t even see it due to his blocked vision. He blows him a kiss, winking at the scarred man.

“I’ll be down in 20, mon trésor. I won’t keep you waiting any longer.” Invigorated by the wake-up call, Laurent closes his door and sighs happily as he walks to grab some underwear. What a great start to the day.

Edamura hurriedly runs to the elevator, trying hard to catch his breath and regain some semblance of sanity at being exposed to something so erotic this early in the morning. As he clicks the down button to the ground floor of the hotel, flashes of the incident pass through his mind and only one constant thought repeats over and over.

“Oh my god, he was so big…" And just like that, a terrible start to the day.

The car ride is, once again, awkward to say the least. Laurent is making bedroom eyes at Edamura, ogling him without any shame. Edamura is avoiding Laurent’s gaze and wishes he were in a deep hole from how embarrassed he was from seeing the other man’s naked body before he even got the chance to kiss someone. Wait, scratch that, Laurent already took that too. The insufferable man. Their van driver, the concierge with many rings, is sitting uncomfortably at the front, blasting South African jazz as he tries to ignore the palpable tension of his two newest foreign clients.

They arrive at the already busy coffee shop, from what Edamura could hear, near the edge of the water with a large amount of outdoor eating space. Undoubtedly an extremely pricey piece of real estate that must mean something is going good for business if this tiny shop is dominating a part of the shoreline. Despite sharing company spaces with big-name chains that surely could destroy the shop with one paycheck, he could feel a tingle in his spine that this place was surely going to be worth the plane ride. As they walk out of the car, Edamura hands the concierge fifty dollars in South African money and asks him politely to meet them outside a small parking lot at around 4 PM. Eyes bulging, he takes the money out of the kind Japanese man’s hand and nods happily.

“Okay, sirs, have a wonderful day! And to you, sir, 감사합니다 [thank you]!” With that, the man grins to himself at his attempted politeness and peels off down the street. Edamura turns towards Laurent with an honestly confused stare, who has to try extremely hard not to burst out laughing despite his poker experience. Oh, Shi-Won was going to get a kick out of this one.

“What did that guy say to me? Was that “thank you” in Xhosa?”

“Probably, Edamame. Let’s go try some coffee now.” 

The owner of this coffee shop is very boisterous and just as old as the previous woman, speaking with a thick Afrikaans accent and busying herself around the shop along with her husband, two sons, and a granddaughter in her pre-teens running around lugging bags of flour and beans. Laurent sits at the counter to begin speaking with the two sons before he is pulled by the collar by Makoto towards the lively woman making their cups of coffee.

The woman smiles toothily at Edamura who looks between ready to kill the French man and hideaway in sheepish misery. “Ag, you didn’t have to pull him away from my sons over there, please! It’s fine, ah, Edamura, yeah?” She pours more water over the coffee cup, which is enticing Edamura more and more by the second by its aroma.

Deciding that his opinion finally matters, Laurent gives a light smile at the woman and winks at her. “Ma’am, don’t worry. My friend over here is just dying to try your coffee and wants me to taste it too.”

In response to his flirtatious compliment, she chuckles to herself and eyes her husband. “Nel, help me out here! I’m being seduced!” Her extremely buff husband gives a gruff response, flicks her the middle finger, and pulls a fresh loaf of bread from the oven. Edamura fondly reminisces over a certain Arab girl who would do the same thing before he is pulled back into reality by the lady in front of him.

“Try it! It’s very good, the shipment just came last week, and today’s prime time to grind these suckers. My muscles are still sore from carrying all the beans in myself!” She flexes her arms at Edamura and he watches as the muscles droop pitifully, both of them snickering at the sight. He takes a deep sip of the coffee and sighs happily.

The coffee itself is the fruitiest he’s ever had, but the dark flavor hits his palate so deep that he has to take a second to breathe and re-immerse himself. Edamura is reminded of the coffees he tried in Noto and Turin and immediately decides that this one is superior. The fruit is no longer a subtle hint like Noto's but a full blast right at his face. He can feel the rapid bursts of raspberries, navel orange, and chocolate flowing down his throat become staggering, standing on the precipice of enjoyable and sickly. The weight on the flavor scale shifts to become enjoyable as he is hit by a full body of flavor, sharply acidic and bitter notes of the coffee punching his saliva gland and forcing his mouth to pucker and water despite the hot liquid already in there. It’s like he visited Stellenbosch already with the winey depth of the drink. He savors the flavors in his coffee, groaning into the cup.

It seems Laurent is also enjoying his cup, eyes widening as he experiences the same flavors going down his throat. He looks at the cup with wide eyes, in awe at the amazing coffee in his mouth. Both men are now feeling the effects of the warm java enter their bodies and they begin to come out of their unnoticed slumber, ready to taste more. The woman sees both of them come to and guffaws at their silence. Already equipped for Edamura, who seemingly could not bear to savor the flavors and drank the cup swiftly, she gives him another cup to sip at. As polite as he may seem, he only gives a quick nod of thanks before greedily cupping his new drink in his hands and sipping once more, ready to experience the flavors all over again.

Except this one is much, much different than the last one. The coffee this time barely even tastes like coffee but more like a mixture between coffee and tea, surprising the Japanese man. He can taste hints of jasmine and crisp bouts of bergamot dance across his tongue as the light coffee goes down his throat, almost confusing his taste buds on whether or not she gave him a palate cleanser. Is this the benefit of wet-processed coffee beans? It’s like he took a shot of cucumber juice because the taste is so clean going down his throat that he nearly misses the small hints of luscious coffee shining through, like the sun peeking through a well-shaded tree. These bits of sunlight spread throughout his chest, warming his skin, and Makoto begins laughing while staring at the coffee in amazement.

“すごいなあ...めっちゃ 素晴らしいです [Wow… it’s really great!]! Where did you find such great quality beans?” He asks, his face perpetually stuck in a childlike grin. The old woman sneers at him playfully, raising an eyebrow at the young gentleman.

“I’m not caught up on my Japanese but I sure as hell know that means my coffee was good! The second one tasted like something an Asian would drink, yeah?” Edamura nods in agreement and she fists the air, whooping in delight. “Honey, I still got the touch!”

“Yeah, yeah, Estia. You got the touch still, bokkie.” The man is still looking into the furnace as he brings out two more trays of fresh baked goods, possibly cookies if going by the scent in the air, but turns and walks toward them where he places the tray down on the counter. As he walks away, he smacks Estia down below and, judging by her yelp of delight and her granddaughter's disgusted demeanor while passing by, Edamura slightly reddens at the blatant PDA. She giggles and looks towards the two men again while batting her kind wrinkled eyes.

“Nelius is the best, he even made our clementine cookies for you! On the house, too. Those coffees, though? Not, but if you came all the way here after meeting with Serena, you probably have the money to spare. I swear, she spoke about you like you were a criminal, screaming in her shop! Hell, last time I visited her I hollered so much she nearly beat me with her wooden spoon! Such a bangbroek.” Edamura side-eyes Laurent at the “criminal” comment, but all the blonde man does is continue sipping his cup and looking as if he’s enjoying the taste. He gestures his hand over the table instead.

“So, where did you ship the beans made for this from?”

“Oh, these? I got the first cup’s batch from Kenya, around Nyanza, and the other one I had to order from Yirgacheffe, where the best of the best comes from, in Ethiopia.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, if Edamura hadn’t been paying attention to his surroundings he would have missed it. A slight twitch in Laurent’s eye at the mention of the country. A place that was probably extremely taboo to him still. Makoto winces on the inside at bringing up such unsavory memories and directed the conversation elsewhere, not wanting to mess the day up even further.

They speak on and on about the coffee and how she got into coffee and why she was so successful with her business. She directed them around the shop in a mini-tour and it turns out she was a ruthless businesswoman, domineering over the coffee shop chains in the area. Her tactics were so harsh that she ran a ton of conglomerates out. Now, most of the cafes around the city were now family-owned and South African-owned, black and white alike, save for a couple of places way too popular for someone of her stature to take away from the community.

“And I swear, these Chinese people come into South Africa and make their bubble tea so popular! It’s ridiculous and it’s so sweet, I feel like an American drinking it sometimes. But everyone likes it for some reason. This one shop, I believe it’s called Brew-Tea-Ful, has made all the people in the area suddenly crave coffee with tapioca! Ag, disgusting!” Estia shouts over to Makoto, who is slurping his 5th cup of coffee and nodding intently. “I can’t believe it, I’m so gatvol.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means just done with it. I’m gonna focus on my business though and keep the nice coffee going till I roll in my grave, yeah? Oh, by the way, I heard you’re going to see Nambitha in Stellenbosch in a few days, could you bring me back a bottle of her black-currant Cabernet Sauvignon? I’ll cut you a discount for the coffee, I need to have some before I die of old age- wait, why are you waving your hands around?” Estia cocks her head confusedly at Edamura, who was trying hard to shut the old Afrikaans lady up before his coffee partner noticed. Laurent had finished his sample cups and went to discuss certain “topics” with her sons that he was not interested in, lest having someone else join him on his wine-

“Did someone say Sauvignon?”

Well, he tried. He really tried to stop the ball from rolling but Edamura could not halt the alcoholic from saying his piece about what wines to drink. It is only after he hears what Estia has told Makoto to do that Laurent turns towards him, slowly, a hurt look crossing his pretty-boy face before he leans in close to Edamura. Caging him in between his two arms. Invading his personal space so easily in a public area. He gasps as the French man breathes close to his ear, violating him as he did back in Noto. Only this time, instead of over the phone, the real thing was too much. Much more auditory with the volume unable to be lessened and much more tactile as breaths fanned over his skin.

“Oh, Edamame, did you really expect to go wine tasting without me? Really?” Laurent whispers softly near his earlobe, a firm hand grabbing his arm. "How dare you, you very bad boy."

A soft whine escapes from Makoto as his sensory functions overload and he is left unable to do anything but shiver and melt into a puddle at being breathed on and touched and whispered to. It’s not his fault. He can’t help being seduced by such a sensual voice, despite it belonging to actual trash. His back stiffens when he feels a soft kiss against his forehead as Laurent smiles back up at Estia, blue eyes twinkling.

“Do not worry, ma’am, we’ll get you your wine back on the trip. I promise.” And whenever Laurent promises something, he never backs down on that promise, or so Makoto had never seen before. He kisses him once more on the side of the head and ruffles his hair before sitting down next to him, staring at him softly. The spots where he was kissed burn hot against the Japanese man's skin, making him desperate to itch at them.

Meanwhile, Estia is staring back and forth between the two, a wondrous smile working up her face. “Now I had a hunch the two of you looked like you could speak Gayle, but what did this old bitch know? I still got the touch, Nel!” Nelius nods silently at Estia’s shout and brings a sign to the front of the shop saying that it’s open. A large queue has formed outside of the shop and Edamura, thankfully unseen from the public, does not have to worry about any of them having seen Laurent kiss him on the head.

Picking up their cups, Estia claps her hands and hands him a piece of paper with two numbers. “Alright, boys! Thanks for the business and I’ll see you in a few days! Here’s my number if you ever need to call me about anything related to coffee and Serena's if you want to give her a good ol’ scare. Knowing her, she probably didn't give it up. She’ll appreciate you calling her after what you did to her poor heart.” As she cackles loudly, Edamura makes a note not to ever cross this old woman.

They leave the shop, to the surprise of the queue out the door, and make their way downtown to do a bit of window shopping, or as Edamura liked to think about it, awkward talks on walks.

Laurent has his hands in his pockets and is swaying slightly, looking down at Edamura with a fond glance every now and again. He nudges Makoto on the shoulder.

“So, what did you think of the coffee? I thought it was good.”

The coffee critic whips his head around, looking at the man insulted. Good? GOOD? It was incredible, the best I’ve ever had and you say it was just ‘good’, stupid blonde man. Edamura thought as he glares at the sidewalk.

“Wow, no need to go for insults, Edamame.” Oops, did he think aloud? Well, Makoto did not care one bit what the French man thought. All he cared about was being able to drink that coffee one more time after visiting the supposedly great wine farm. With Laurent.

Edamura turns back to Laurent once more, eyebrows raised and sulking as he asks, “Why did you invite yourself again? That trip was just for me.”

Laurent has the audacity to roll his eyes at the question and raises Makoto’s blood pressure by 3 notches. He raises his hand flippantly and states, “Edamame, I said we’d hang out this entire trip! If you’d told me before you didn’t want to hang out at a certain point, you could have just told me. Granted, I would have been sad, especially since this IS a winery we are talking about, but I would have understood. But you kept it a secret from me. And-”

“And we both know how good you are at keeping secrets, right?” Edamura snaps back before shoving his hands in his pockets, all riled up again. A hand pressed against his back and he looks back up at the French man, whose face has once again become somber. 

“And we know how bad you are at keeping secrets. I’m sorry, Edamura. You don’t have to forgive me just yet, but please know I really am sorry.”

Edamura scoffs at the pitiful apology and flicks his head away from the bastard. “Yeah, yeah, tell me that again when you are sorry for kissing me on the head in front of Estia. You sexual predator.”

“Oh, I’d never be sorry at the chance to kiss you, my little soybean.” Another kick to the legs and the French man was tumbling to his knees.

They meet up with Nambitha a few days later, another woman with rich black skin and greying hair that looks not a day over 50. She smirks when Edamura compliments her on this, replying simply that her other two lady friends did not fare well in their genetics when it came to looking ‘so good’. She begins taking them around the different fields, letting them try the grapes on the vines and popping open expensive wines for them to walk around with and sample, or in her case, fill a glass to the brim and gulp. This woman is apparently Xhosa, which allows Edamura to ask her on the tour what the driver had said to him a few days ago. Also apparent, this is not the right time for him to ask while under the generous influence of such fine wine, which hinders his emotional state and causes him to break down in tears in the middle of the grapevine.

“L-Laurent! Laurent!!! I swear I’m not Korean, please! Please ask Shi-Won, I swear I’m not!” The French man nearly spills his third glass of wine laughing at Edamura’s incessant sobbing, fat tears rolling down his eyes as the Chinese men back in Nice come back to haunt him. Nambitha is also tearing up with her own chuckles, not trying hard to see how this jumbled man could have scared poor Serena.

“Oh, but Edamame, Shi-Won told me she learned her kimchi recipe from you! It’s really good too!” 

This just makes Edamura cry harder, taking one last gulp of his third glass of wine at the backhanded compliment that makes no sense but hit his feelings just the same. The blonde man decides to just pat the vulnerable soybean's back and whisper sweet nothings in his ear in an effort to soothe as they continue their taste testing.

It happens as they are walking along the dirt path, lagging behind the "much fitter than she seems" Nambitha. Just as they reach the apex of the tour, Laurent continues murmuring his honeyed words in his travel partner's ear when Edamura glares up at him, cheeks puffed out and eyes red from bawling. “Did you just call me brew-tiful?”

Blinking once, Laurent stares back a little perplexed and very happy at the cute person in front of him. He winks at the shorter man. "No, I called you beautiful,” he starts, “but I assure you I am not trying to make a pun out of you, silly soybean.”

Despite his subpar attempts to calm down the now offended drunk man, Edamura begins beating weakly on the French man’s chest thinking he is truly hurting him. Laurent knows better, however, as he likens the feeling more to a cat kneading biscuits on a couch. In Laurent's head, it's extremely hard to imagine this crying mess as the same person who pulled a real sword on him on a deserted island and threatened to slice him up for being such an untruthful asshole. Laurent grins goofily as the Japanese man simultaneously cries drunken tears and angrily mocks him. “No, you m-meant it as a coffee pun! Bastard Laurent! You’re silly! I can make fun of you too! Excusez-moi! Hon hon, o-oui! Merci beaucoup! S-Sacrebleu! ”

The combination of the soft site in front of him, what with the cute French-Japanese mashed accent Edamura was making and the feeble beating on his chest, and the fact that there is a heavier amount of liquor in his stomach due to Nambitha’s generosity is too much for Laurent's will to bear. He pulls Edamura close by the hips and ushers them toward a sheltered grapevine.

Laurent soaks in the sight of a whiny Edamura, fists still thumping and face red from alcohol consumption. His green polo shirt blends in with the lush leaves at his back, almost as if he truly was becoming an edamame bean.  He’s still saying his words in a French accent, ridiculing his mother tongue more. He runs a hand through the Japanese man’s messy brown hair, pulling it a bit from the back to see his reaction. Edamura tightens his lips and shrilly whines, upping his kneading to pounding biscuits onto the taller man. Sighing in crushing defeat at the endearing scene, the French man trails his hand down the other's spine before swiftly covering the other’s mouth with his own.

He tastes like really good wine, is the first thought that pops in Laurent's head. He readjusts their mouths as the experienced man tries to achieve the perfect angle to slot himself against the drunken man. He nuzzles his nose into Edamura's soft cheek, smirking at the other man's squirming. Over and over, he detaches and attaches himself from Makoto's addictive lips in tender motions, relishing in the other’s company despite the younger one still attempting to complete the task of hurting his mortal foe.

Why did it feel like his knees were getting weaker? Edamura was sure he wasn’t a snake… or was he? Either way, his grip on balance was failing him the more alcohol entered his system as he nearly slithered to the dirt, barely avoiding it if it wasn’t for the tight grip on his waist and the fervent touches to his mouth. His eyes blearily open and he catches sight of his worst nightmare, two Laurents smiling down at him. Their sky-blue eyes gently gazing into his before reconnecting their lips in another open-mouthed kiss that tasted strongly of tangy berries. A exhale of relief leaves him at that action and he relaxes some more, his stomach buzzing with warmth. However, his arms keep swinging.

Laurent pauses a moment while their lips are connected, tongue waiting at slightly parted lips. He can still feel the soft beating on his chest almost like a second heart, persistent and unyielding in its effort to beat him up. He pulls once more on the brown tufts between his long fingers, massaging the man's scalp, and greedily swallows any pained whimpers that emit from Edamura. Something hot burns in his gut as it curls and growls in possession. Whatever it was, his body thought the sounds in front of him were his and his only. The blonde man’s manners crumble as his patient tongue swipes at the parted lips and occupies the space within.

Edamura, with his arms still striking Laurent, gets a good hit on the French man’s shoulder with the blonde bastard wincing in pain. Giggling with a sense of triumph, he relents his persistent attacks and the feral beast inside him settles once more. Now he can fully enjoy this moment. He hadn’t really minded the pleasant kisses pushing against his lips, especially this current one with a skillful tongue roaming about and currently pressing against the roof of his mouth. Smiling dazedly, he tries to kiss back but his mind and tongue just won’t cooperate under the addling influence of the wine. It's getting a bit hard to breathe too, maybe because his mouth is being covered completely by Laurent's. He breathes hard through his nose and whines for air, which Laurent immediately gifts to him.

A thin line of drool connects the two as they part ways. Edamura takes a gasp of the sweet earthy air and, by reaction, tries to follow up the kiss with his own, whining when he realizes that the other man is too far up. Waves of lustful passion crash over Laurent as he catches Makoto trying to follow his lips up. Grabbing his hips harder, he pulls the coffee critic back into a bruising kiss that has them both moaning loudly.  

Frankly, it is only when Nambitha turns around and notices that they are indeed missing that she heeds the warning Estia had given her about these two "lovebirds", as her friend so candidly remarked. Retracing her steps, it is only at the sound of these very loud “noises” that she investigates an overgrown vine and sees them. A tipsy French man enthusiastically making out with the funny drunk Asian man and giving each other kisses just shy of being described as “searing” right on top of her grapes. Chuckling to herself, she rolls her shoulder back and smacks the unsuspecting white man right on the back of his head.

“Okay, little ones, I don’t need your shared spit ruining my harvest! Keep your hands to yourself or else no more wine.” Rubbing the back of his now throbbing head, Laurent gives her a charming smile, which does not look very effective seeing as how she looks over at the other dazed man who has rightly swollen lips and lightly mussed clothes, his tucked polo shirt popping out of his jeans. When they get back to the main house at the end of the tour, she gifts the two of them a large case of wine each and some bottles for Estia, to the drunken joy of Makoto and the pleasure of Laurent. It really was good wine.

Now it is time for them to go. They had both packed up from their stay at the hotel and get driven towards the airport with their concierge-driver from before. Edamura had still not gotten over being told ‘thank you’ in Korean but swallowed some pride and allowed the man to keep driving them. Sithembele, the name of the driver after they got back from the coffee shop that day, had taken up a buddy-buddy relationship with Edamura and proceeded to call him boetie all the way from then until they took the final drive up to the airport and unpacked their luggage.

“So, boetie, it was really a good time being your personal driver at Ubukumkani. I know you saved my number, so use it if you ever decide to come back to South Africa and need someone to take you to the local sights!”

Edamura smiles and reaches a hand up to shake his hand. “Of course, Sithembele! If you ever decide to come to Japan, I’ll bring you to all the local sights too!” The South African man looks at the hand for a moment, smiles impossibly wide at him, and goes in for a hug. Already on alert, Edamura feels around the tightening around his torso to see if it was with the intention to steal his wallet and found that no, it was a genuine hug. Feeling bad at his untrustworthy thoughts, he hugs Sithembele in return and pats him on the back. 

The two foreigners enter the airport and look at the gates they would be taking. Separate flights. Edamura looked at Laurent with a narrowed gaze.

“Okay, I’m off to drink some coffee up north in Ethiopia. I’m guessing you’re going back to the States?” There was no way that Edamura could miss the flinch on Laurent at the country name, a simple reminder of the terrible past that was now just that: something that had passed. 

“Yes, Edamame, I’ll be riding back to the United States as a diplomat. Have to put these nine languages to use in some other way than conniving others, right?” Laurent says easily, smirking seductively at the innocent young coffee adventurer.

Edamura rolls his eyes and smirks back. “All I’m happy about is you actually getting your life together and not fucking mine up like before. Go ahead and do your diplomacy while I go and get a great cup of joe.” Laurent nods and, just like before in the vines, grabs him by the hips and surges forward, connecting their lips in another deep kiss.

The kiss lasts only a few seconds before Edamura sputters backward, cheeks flushed red and eyes trying hard not to glaze over. He wipes his mouth hard sputtering and crosses his arms. Despite being drunk as hell in the winery, he sure as hell did not forget the kisses that Laurent had given him. Once they had gotten back to the hotel, he made sure to beat the blonde man’s ass thoroughly, this time not pawing his chest but actual punches and kicks that left the man wheezing with bruises and pain and laughter.

"Give me some warning next time so I can punch you again!"

“Maybe I will, maybe I won't. Invite me back just to be sure, Edamame.”

“Maybe I won't then, jackass. See you never.”

But then again, Edamura is terrible at lying. Over the next two and a half years, he’s able to make tremendous progress on his coffee adventure traveling all over the world. First Ethiopia, then Colombia, then off to Havana, back to Europe, then back to South America, then Asia, and so forth. Along the way, he’s able to find time to hang out with everyone in the crew.

First, he invites his favorite person from the team, Abigail, only a week after Africa on a trip down to South America where they try fresh Colombian grinds. It blows his mind how despite the coffee not being as strong as previous ones, the caramel and nutty flavors produced from the beans shines through the blend. While Makoto nerds out, Abby sits back, bored but intent on studying his entertaining facial expressions like a kid at a zoo. The only time she shows emotions is when they (and they swear by it) unintentionally con one of the biggest drug cartel leaders in the country out of a small 50 million after he kicked the back in of one of the bean picking kids. The look on his face as Abby drove one of his prized cars off the side of a cliff with the face of a crazed devil will forever be ingrained in Makoto’s head.

Then, he goes to London after a couple of months and meets with Cynthia, who takes him to the coffee spot he’s been dying to try ever since some owner in Peru told him that they perfected French press. Cynthia, skeptical since she did work in a cafe before but never tried the spot, accompanies Edamura to the place where they find the French press is just as the lady had described, the bold flavors making the Japanese man shudder in delight. He also gets to see Kawkn again, a pang of harsh guilt rushing through him at the thought of his past actions, and asks how he’s doing with his art.

Then it comes to Shi-Won and Kudo when he visits Korea a year later, which further breaks his spirit when the locals cannot even discern what nationality he is (Chinese? Korean? Once he hears Nepalese, he reaches for his trusty bottle of Sauvignon). Kudo hitches along again for Melbourne, Australia the week after where they drink coffee in the winter and Edamura finally gets a chance to speak in his native tongue again, which feels so much easier even though his English has gotten rather good. His father has yet to be invited due to his job and making better amends with society as well as his son.

And Laurent Thierry takes up most of the trips in between.

This insufferable bitch, this asshole, decides to keep up his job as a diplomat and travels extensively around the world the same as him, just not attached to the hip. But when he does save up a few days of vacation, it’s immediately to ask where Edamura is in the world. It doesn’t matter if he’s in the middle of sleep in Austria or just snacking on something in Canada, he’ll always call him and beg him to tell him where he is for hours on end so he can come and drink a cup with him.

And each time Edamura begrudgingly accepts his requests and meets up with him, without fail, the blonde man will find time to bring them away to his hotel room, cup his body close, and close the distance between their lips and take his breath away. The first few times, there was definitely a struggle and a bit of kicking and screaming. One instance had ended with Edamura losing a shoe out of his hotel window and shrieking as it fell into the water, startling the fisherman below. Punches were thrown and he even spent some time in England learning how to do a half-nelson if the man tried to approach him one more goddamn time. After some months though, the kicking stopped. The shouts of indignation become devoured sobs on the bedsheets. His punches turn into clenched fists as he fists the sheets underneath him or Laurent's prized Ermenegildo Zelga suits. The man above Edamura never disappoints when it comes to kissing.

Despite all this, the Japanese coffee expert will not fall in love with the man yet. Laurent had not yet crossed the threshold of kissing, which meant something was holding him back. Even though he had seen the man nude many times after South Africa (most by accident, some purely because the French man wanted to show off), despite getting teased and deep-kissed within an inch of his life, regardless of the fact that he had felt the man’s massive dick straining against his ass multiple times and rutting against him like a dog in heat, he never went past the point of clothed frottage. It helps cement the fact to Makoto that he was not going to be much more than the visage of an innocent boy to molest each time they saw each other and he was totally fine with that casualness.

Well, everything except the huge dick against his ass sometimes, but overall it wasn’t a big deal.

Until it was. 

He didn’t know it, but it started right when he got another coffee recommendation after visiting Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam. He was sipping the last of his Vietnamese coffee, the strong robust coffee fighting back against the heavy cream in the best flavor battle he'd had in a while. He shook his cup a few times, looking up at the man and his wife who served him. They were a rather happy and content couple, their earnings small but their love immense. Through their broken English and Edamura's butchered Vietnamese, they were extremely shocked but grateful to hear someone’s renowned coffee shop all the way in Norway recommended their small food store, which only sold coffee on the side. Edamura could see what the appeal was once the iced beverage is paired with a hot, delicious banh mi sandwich. Actual heaven.

“Where was the last good cup of coffee that you had?” The husband and wife both mull over their thoughts before the wife pops her head up, an answer brightly crossing her face.

“Oh my god, if not in Vietnam, you have to try this wonderful place in Taipei! I can give you the address!”

Edamura grins satisfied as he writes down the address and gets their phone number. Guess he was finally going to get to visit Taiwan.

Chapter Text

2 & ½ YEARS AGO

Somewhere around 2230 kilometers away from Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam, an amnestic woman stands on the side of a beach near Taiwan while staring quietly at the sea. Taking a deep breath of the ocean breeze, she smiles widely at the sense of freedom felt in the deepest part of her bones, blossoming outward onto her skin.

She still doesn’t understand why she enjoys the feeling so much. 

Her mother and father are working on the caught fish once more, gutting their bodies and descaling their skin for cooking. They always bring her to this very spot every time they needed to get fish. The spot where, nearly eight years ago, they found her unconscious and bleeding from an open bullet wound. When she awoke disoriented after the man she now calls her father performed CPR, her thoughts were a mess. She couldn’t remember her name, her personality, her life before washing ashore. Only when they asked her about her past did random memories flit past her mind with no rhyme or reason.

She had gasped, realizing that she was a secretary for the CEO of a theme park in Cajamar, São Paulo, Brazil. Then that memory was overridden with a glimpse of someone pouring her a glass of wine as they discussed selling valued oysters in Sydney, Australia. But that conflicted with the memory of her being an Ethiopian princess doing a study abroad in Kyoto, Japan. And on and on she recounted how she was the girlfriend of a German millionaire, the owner of an Italian soccer org, many countless tales that had no connection and led to multiple dead-ends. A splitting migraine finally ceased her recounting, causing her to slip from fluent Mandarin to a disoriented English. This only furthered her mysterious origins to the old couple. When the pounding in her head dulled to a faint throb, she turned to them apprehensively and asked what she should do.

The old man and woman themselves had just suffered a loss of their own: their only child. A tomboy and lover of the waves, their daughter wanted to be just like the fisherman that she received piggyback rides from and who wiggled the worms in her face that she giggled at with glee. The couple did not accept her interests, however, until she came back home as a teen with her school uniform in her satchel and a basket full of fish in her hands that she caught herself as food for the week. They allowed her to provide after that, helping the mother and father with their small restaurant and finally being free to do whatever she wanted out in the water. Two months before visiting the beach, the mother and father came home expecting to see their daughter's wonderful smiling face staring back at them with another tale of the ocean. Instead, they were greeted at the door by an openly sobbing sailorman that reported the waves she loved so much swallowed up Yi-Hsuan, and her limp body laid at the docks as they spoke.

They hadn’t spoken of her since. But gazing upon this woman right here, about the same age and height of their daughter, filled them with a sense of longing so harsh it almost made them resent her. The ocean took their own daughter away from them so it could spit another girl back up? She looked nothing like Yi-Hsuan either. Her cool umber skin was flawless like the Africans they'd seen in movies, unlike the tanned luster of their precious daughter’s scarred arms. Her white locks framed her face unnaturally unlike the brown strands of hair that their daughter tied tightly in a bun each time she needed to work. Her blue eyes did not fit her complexion unlike the timeless brown eyes of their daughter. Her slim body was unlike the built physique of their deceased daughter, strong from the hours spent on the sea. She was nothing like what their Yi-Hsuan used to be, different in every way.

And if that initial hatred did not contrast so starkly with the desperate compassion that pulled them in the direction to help this poor woman out, then let their hypocrisy shine ugly against their foreheads like a scorchingly hot iron brand.

They felt relieved for this poor girl, tossed away by the sea and set adrift to die, only to cheat the Grim Reaper. She had done what they wished had happened to their own child. They had already lost all hope of saving their Yi-Hsuan when they had seen their daughter’s unmoving corpse on the deck. Their tears had been sucked dry from the hopelessness in ever recovering the hole that their daughter had left with her death. However, they could help this mysterious woman, who was looking at their tears with befuddled eyes.  Feeling a pulse on the unconscious woman here filled the old man with energy, with a strength that the wife had not seen for a long time. She could fulfill the hole in their hearts for a little bit longer and allow them to receive the closure of their daughter’s passing with time. And so they took her in, with her whimsical tales and imaginative stories of an old life. She asked them what she should be called to them.

Thus her new name was Xiangxiang.

The woman, now called Xiangxiang, holds her hand up to the sky while admiring her new jewelry. "Not bad…"

“Xiangxiang! Time to go back home!” 

The woman in question looks back from her spot and smiles, recognizing the yell of her adoptive mother. She grins widely at her mother, waving back and forth. “Of course, I’ll be right there!”

On her ring finger is one of the many gifts given to her by her new family. Granted, it was found in the body of a dead fish and she had to laugh at the frugality her father had when it came to presents. However, she could not place it but there was a certain… nostalgia to the ring? It confused her the more she glanced at it, definitely much more expensive than anything her family could ever afford. But to be fair it was just another gift the ocean handed out to her. Maybe it was like her and had a story to it, lost in the East China Ocean. Just like her. Her reflection glitters back at her as she stares into the blue depths of the gem and exhales once more, letting her intrusive thoughts take the backburner for a bit. 

“I need you to help wheel the fish back, Xiangxiang. Please help your papa!”

“Coming, mama!”

PRESENT DAY

It always feels nice traveling around Asia for Edamura. He was sure it had to do with how easy it was for him to get lost in the crowd since everyone had similar facial features as him, a relic of elusion from his confidence-man days. Walking around the Western world over the years always made him feel like he was in a bright spotlight with his looks, like someone at random was going to yell some slur at him at any given moment. His thoughts travel back to backpacking around the landlocked areas of Europe and North America and the many, many stares he'd get for being the only Asian in a coffee shop, let alone for the next 50 miles. How he wished to be able to slip quietly into a street corner and not be singled out after possibly snatching the hefty wallet from an asshole patron. He dismisses the silly notion from before, looking back down at his phone for directions to the cafe.

After landing at Taoyuan International Airport sometime in the evening last night, Edamura was already ready to hit the hay. Not only had his flight been delayed an hour and a half due to battery issues, but he had been seated in coach next to a fat man diagnosed with a bad case of sleep apnea and could barely concentrate on his book. He has enough money, even after two years of constant travel and monetary donations to charities, to buy out the entire first-class at least seventy times over, but he had lived frugally before and knew when and where to spend his earnings. Living the luxury life was only in place when he knew the French slut was on the trip with him.

The young coffee critic grumbled at thin air as he rolled his luggage with him to security, pulling out his phone and hailing a taxi from an app the Vietnamese couple told him to download. Once the protocol of going through the airport was done, he found his driver and told him to drive directly to the hotel. He stared out the window, sighing in the solace that a bed would be underneath his head in just a few hours.

All irritation seeped from his body and into the air as he slumped backward into said bed, the rest of the car ride a blur from how drained he was and hotel check-in a monotonous process as usual. The plane rides from country to country always did that to him and he always made sure to text everyone (besides Laurent) that he would not be answering any of their messages the day before a flight. Sitting comfortably in his green striped boxers and a wifebeater, he turned off airplane mode and watched as the notifications rolled in. 

His latest Instagram post was getting decent likes, him being the only confidence man on his team to download social media after being done with the crime life. He held two accounts, one being a personal account that he kept private photos in and another exclusively to document his coffee travel around the world. People were astounded at how an account of over two years old could sustain the amount of traveling he did and not keep a job, even with the prospect of online sponsorships, and this earned himself the nickname of "The Coffeefarian", a play on words of a trustafarian. It even became the name of his profile which boasted an exorbitant 965,000 followers, all of who were interested in what coffee he decided to drink around the world. He never expected to become this famous especially since his reviews just consisted of him praising most coffees he's tried and basic shots of each coffee he tried. It was something fun to do in his post conning life. Other than that, a couple of messages from his close friends, a couple of emails from coffee shops around the world asking him to try their brews out, and a bunch of messages from Laurent which made Edamura snicker once he remembered what he sent him earlier.

[From: Edamame]

Hahahahaha, it’s you. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=072Nu54avdU&ab_channel=jeppoo1

On point with the French beret and baguette too.

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

… Edamame, you know that I’m not French, I’m Belgian. We’ve been over this.

[From: Edamame]

I’m sorry, I don’t understand what “mur mure murmure au mur” means xD

Ever since Edamura had found out Laurent was actually Belgian and not French when he last visited the bastard’s hometown a few months back, he had been nonstop sending him some hilarious English-to-French memes he’d found while scrolling through Instagram. Finally having something to tease the blonde French (definitely not Belgian) man was so much fun, it had Edamura in peels of laughter each time he opened his messages and saw a sad selfie of said bastard. There was no way he was going to give this up, especially since he knows for a fact that his contact is still ‘Edamame’. He grinned as he opened up the newest messages from him.

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard}

You’re so mean Edamame! I’m going to punish you the next time I see you.

I know you’re there, looking at the message on your phone screen but not opening it so I can’t see that you read it. Cruel soybean you are.

Edamame, you ignoring me is just turning me on further and you know what happens when I get excited. Hope you’ll be able to handle me next time we meet ;)

I’m sure you’re just on another plane ride to another country right now because Cynthia told me so ;) I’ll go to sleep happy now. Sweet dreams, mon tr ésor.

… Alright, I took a nap and I'm gonna strangle you if you don’t text back. Don’t make me video call you.

[TWO MISSED VIDEO CALLS FROM: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

Prepare to be punished next time I see you, Edamame.

A genuine laugh escapes Makoto once he sees the ironic notifications pop up on his screen. Laurent was definitely a needy asshole when he wanted to be. It was almost like they were boyfriends, but Edamura knew better than to get into a relationship with someone as spontaneous, manipulative,  and just plain shitty as him. The amount of fuckery that had been wedged in between the time they knew each other was enough to push him away from the blonde man for eons, even if they were on significantly better terms than a few years ago. Blushing at the thought of their current relationship standing, Edamura started texting him back.

[From: Edamame]

Whatever you say, bitch. 

Oh, I’d like to see you try and punish me, waffle boy.

Also, stop spamming me and my video calls or else I’m going to actually block your number.

I’m still in Asia and I just got done with my flight. In the hotel room right now about to go to sleep. Good night, you headache.

Now on his current walk near the edge of the city, he switches apps from the GPS and takes a quick video of the dusky orange morning sky, relishing in the ideal conditions for a nice cup of coffee. His followers had never heard a sound out of him during these videos or anything except for occasional sips and moan of delight in drinking coffee. He was always cautious not to say a word lest someone match his voice to previous crimes, but this social media account was just a piece of his plan to bring happiness to others through coffee. No need to bring the past into the mix.

His phone pings as he arrives in front of the shop. It looks like a simplistic black box of a store fitted with an ornate door and full-length windows showcasing the interior. Edamura crowds over to a window and peeks in, seeing coffee grinders lining the wall and pre-roasted beans and pastries in a glass display case. A single worker, probably in her early thirties like him, towers over the bar like an alchemist with their elixirs as pour-over stations and glass beakers above hot flames catch his eye next. He whistles in appreciation, admiring the aesthetic of the place already. Soft chairs and tables line the walls in spots away from the constant reopening of a door, smart in its placement so their coffee won't get cold if people decide to drink inside. 

The establishment is situated in a more isolated part of the city, almost residential, meaning that the people here were more family-oriented and the neighborhood to be safer than usual. This place had quite a bit of fancy equipment in it, but he could see multiple security cams all over the walls, deterring people from even thinking of robbing here. Edamura has very good expectations for this place. The coffee shop worker at the bar notices him and gives him a neutral customer-service smile, tapping her wrist to signify the shop will open in just a short while. He nods and turns away from the window, not minding since the cold air wasn't so chilly as it was when he first walked out.

He rubs his hands together and feels a notification go off in his pocket. His hand begins to reach for his phone...

"If this asshole doesn't leave, I'm slicing up his shitty body and feeding his remains to the ducks at the lake!"

A strong female voice resonates down the block, shouting rapidly in Mandarin, and Edamura's head snaps at the accusation. Was someone being murdered? Abused? There was definitely an issue about three stores down, pots clattering in the background, and louder sounds of struggle ringing out. He could distinctly make out the sound of three, maybe four people having a shouting match in Taiwanese Mandarin. Edamura pushes his back off the wall and tries to get a better vantage point to see what's happening, but all the commotion is still unseen. He starts walking towards the noise when a body is flung out of a door, rag-dolling in the sidewalk.

A hand covers Edamura's face, the color draining as horror fills his expression at the blood on the ground. The blood seems to be coming from the woman sitting on the floor, her side-profile snarled at the door as she drips crimson from her hands onto the previously clean sidewalk. The first thing Edamura notices about her is the fact that she is also a foreigner, but in a vastly different way than he is. First of all, she does not look remotely Taiwanese but instead black, her hair sporting a shocking white and a pink dye on the inside of her bob cut. Her eyes seem to be filled with hatred as she spits out more insults in fluent Mandarin, pointing at someone inside the store. Edamura can see that she's beautiful but chaotic, a ripple in the morning that seems to disrupt the peacefulness of the Japanese man's pond. He stands there, stunned, as she begins ripping into an unknown assailant.

"Hey, asshat, don't go waving your money around like you're top shit! We're not getting off this fucking block, my family worked hard for this restaurant! You can't buy out everyone in this neighborhood, pig cheeks! Fat ass! You cowardly piece of-"

"XIANGXIANG!" The woman flinches as another voice calls out, anger lacing the male's voice. It sounds old, probably would be frailer if it weren't for the tone of rage that came with it. "Don’t insult this man right now! Go calm down!"

The black woman, apparently named Xiangxiang, looks like she is about to respond back to the voice inside but instead clenches her teeth and backs down. She takes a slow deep breath in and gets up gracefully before turning away. She stomps in Edamura's direction a couple of feet when a sound that resembles a slap comes from the restaurant and a gasp of pain. She looks back, stupefied, before running right to the entrance and gasping in rage.

"You fat waste of space, what the fuck did you-! "

"GET OUT, XIANGXIANG! I'll deal with him ." The voice inside now sounds even more enraged, but not directed solely at Xiangxiang. She stomps her foot on the ground and walks away in Edamura’s direction, tears streaming down her face and a muffled scream ripping from her vocal cords. Her eyes, now that he can see them clearly, are an inky blue, highlighted by aggressive red veins surrounding her scleras. After a few steps, she finally notices the foreigner standing in her way and blinks once, twice at him. After the third blink, her face tints with a small scarlet blotch and she makes a 180 degree turn to walk in the opposite direction. 

“W-Wait!” The voice that had been silently encased in Edamura’s throat finally decides to debut, hand reaching out to Xiangxiang before he could process the action. He stumbles forward and catches her attention, her puffy eyes staring at him with suspicion and leftover anguish. “U-Um, would you like to share a cup of coffee?”

A second passes by as the yelling inside the store grew fainter, probably the people in the store continuing to argue in an area where most people would not hear. Edamura did not know what the woman was thinking and what emotions she was probably going through, though he could imagine one of them being irritated, gleaning from her constant facial change each time she turned from looking at him curiously and back towards the store. Edamura, finally feeling the awkwardness of the situation, started trying to persuade Xiangxiang.

“Uh, well, I can pay for you too if that’s why you’re hesitating, I’m sure a lot has just happened to-”

“Who are you?” She asks him suddenly, the question coming out of left field since she responds while her face is turned away. But, another surprise is the fact that she could say that in perfect English. Edamura could gather from her accent that she was not a native of Taiwan, but he didn’t know where she would be from with that information.

“Eh? Oh, let me introduce myself, I’m Edamura Makoto.”

“Edamura, hmm?” She finally turns towards him and tuts in his direction, giving him a once over, scanning him in an eerily familiar way. Almost as if they had met somewhere else before. A moment later, an enthusiastic grin pops up on her face. “Sure, let’s go! Thanks for the offer, kind sir.” 

A bit perplexed by her insanely quick mood switch but eager to get inside of the shop to escape the muffled but still clear yelling in the other store, Makoto nods and ushers the both of them into the shop. Wiping underneath her eyes to clear her tear tracks, Xiangxiang bounds into the cafe like an excited puppy, the Japanese man quickly following suit.

They approach the counter and Xiangxiang leans up against it, winking at the girl standing behind it. “Niji, 亲! Please give me a good cup of cocoa!”

The coffee shop worker, Niji apparently, decideds to ignore this request and instead start whisper-shrieking at Xiangxiang, trying hard to keep her voice down so Edamura cannot hear her Taiwanese Mandarin. Unfortunately for her, she’s still hearable as Makoto is A) right next to Xiangxiang and B) able to understand the language slightly better than two years ago, having started taking lessons again. He keeps his face passive as they have their conversation.

“Wait, wait! No ordering just yet! Let me know what the hell just happened? I could hear the screaming from all the way inside here. You’re bleeding! Was it that man who walked by, like, 10 minutes ago? He looked so scary…”

“Heh, that fat fucker? He’s just some lackey for the guy who keeps trying to bring down our shops! Old lady Fei would never let someone like him take down her old tea shop, especially after you spent your savings revamping this place!”

Edamura watches as Niji pulls out some gauze from under the counter and wraps Xiangxiang’s hand, continuing to fret. “What did he do to you guys?” 

At that, Xiangxiang glowers at the counter and keeps her head down, her white hair hiding her face from view. “He’s threatening us again. I tried to punch the cunt but Papa pushed me out of the shop. I was about to walk away when he slapped Mama.”

Niji’s eyes go wide at the same time Edamura did, shocked at the revelation. A random man inside her family’s shop slapped her mom? Aside from that little tidbit, her mentioning that the shop owner’s were her parents cemented the fact that she was, in fact, a native to the country. But where did she get that American accent from? The coffee critic could only deduce that her uncommon accent may have come from going to an international school since she was little, so that eased his curiosity a little. However, what had happened before was still shocking. If someone had slapped his mom, he would have had no qualms about smacking them right back if not just smashing their head in.

“No way! Oh my god, is she okay?”

“I don’t know yet. However, this man right here,” Xiangxiang pauses in her gossip to point a free finger at Makoto, “saw me get my ass kicked to the curb and generously decided to help the gorgeous, delicate, amazingly clever Xiangxiang with paying for one of your delicious cups of cocoa!” 

Niji shakes her head fervently, almost imitating one of those bobblehead figures Edamura saw at his first baseball game in America. She finishes wrapping the injury and slams her hands down on the counter.  “No, no, no! You’re getting a cup for free! I can’t believe the audacity of a man who would hit a woman like your mama. If anyone ever hit Ma, I’d go into a fit too.” 

A large sigh leaves Xiangxiang as she pushes herself up on the counter, rolling her eyes at her friend. “C’mon, girl! You can’t keep giving free drinks to me and all the boys you think are cute! (Hey!) Don’t give me that bullshit, I was in here a couple of days ago and I saw you give that tall athletic dude some coffee without even opening the register or scanning his phone! You need to make that bank! How else are we going to go out on trips if you’re perpetually poor from hand-me-outs.” 

Niji crosses her arms and turns her head at the accusation. “I would charge you double but your sugar daddy over here is offering to pay for you right now,” she replies in a sassy tone, forgoing her subtlety altogether.

Xiangxiang lets out a chortle and starts kicking her legs on the counter, laughing at her friend’s blatant callout. Edamura, who had been patiently standing there for a bit, feels his ears go hot at the thought of being called something he most definitely wasn’t. A sugar daddy? He had the money to, but he definitely didn’t want to! If anyone was going to be a sugar daddy, it would surely be the French bastard himself. Before Edamura could gag and kill himself for the fact that he just called Laurent a “daddy”, he responds to Niji in Mandarin, trying hard to sound as respectful as possible.

“Um, hello! May I get one house specialty coffee and one cup of cocoa? Also, since you don’t mind the woman I offered to drink with, would you like to sit with us and I’d love to discuss your store with you. Also, I am not her ‘sugar daddy’, if that’s what you were expecting.”

Xiangxiang laughs become giddy with glee as she catches her friend going absolutely red and starts to bury her hands into her face, mortified that the man in front of her was able to completely understand their entire conversation. She nods her assent at his order and begins busying herself, rushing towards the sign inside the store and writing a later opening time so they would be able to talk. Calling out to her back room, two more workers that Edamura did not even realize were in the store come out and she gives them quick orders before they all start working on their drinks. 

As their drinks boil away in the fancy glass beakers, Edamura looks at Xiangxiang once more, a bit more curious this time around. He leads her to a wooden table near the back of the store and lets out a sigh of exhaustion, already done with the day. “I’m sorry for what happened back there. I wish a drink would help with your situation but it seems to be a bit more complex than that,” he apologies in English, hoping it might come across a bit easier.

The umber skinned woman taps at the table, humming out a note of content and shrugging her shoulders. “It’s fine, Edamura! I’m sorry you had to see little old me all emotional like that! Usually you have to hit a home run before I show men my true colors.” At that, she winks at Edamura and he feels a light blush form on his cheeks. He didn’t know if she was seducing him or not, but he could almost sense a similar vibe emanate from her as if she was another Laurent. A scary thought indeed. 

Edamura decides to open up the conversation with a question. “So, this man is trying to buy out the entire neighborhood?” Xiangxiang nods her head at that, a broad smile crossing her face just as it did when they first interacted.

“Yeah, and he’s been trying to buy out all the stores within the entire block! Well, not this man but his boss! I’ve never met them but I am sure they’re an asshole! He’s trying to purchase 40 hectares of land, which my family’s restaurant and this coffee shop are built on, for the purpose of boba! We have so much boba in Taiwan and so many distributors, but this man wants to build another goddamn factory on top of our hard work!”

Edamura sympathizes with the woman in front of him, reminding him of his time with Marie and Sebastian in Nice. She had a similar attachment to her restaurant as they did and he did not want to have the possibility of another hard-working family going under, especially with how the boss’ underling treated her mom. He cocks his eyebrow at Xiangxiang and is about to respond when he has a coffee cup placed in front of him. He looks up to Niji, who is smiling at him cutely, before sitting down next to Xiangxiang and handing her a large mug of hot cocoa that rivals her own. In the middle of the table that had gone unnoticed, three large mounds of boxy toast sit accompanied by butter pads and jams. He finally remembers the reason he visited the area and bows his head before excitedly taking a sip of the coffee.

It’s even better than what he expected it to taste like. Edamura’s tongue is slowly coated in lightly roasted coffee, the mouth-feel rather syrupy as his mind wanders to the delicious flavors of the liquid. He first picks out a funky earthy flavor, like the essence of beets and carrots have been infused with the beans made for this coffee. It heightens to a boldly sharp tart flavor, black cherry-like in its sourness before the brisk sweetness of a high-quality coffee is found. Juicy tangerine mellows out the earthy flavor of the coffee and honeysuckle nectar smooths over the tang of the cherry. A quick hint of chocolate can be found in the smooth finish of the cup, layering the complexities of the drink off well. It is the most insanely flavored coffee that Edamura has tried in a while, but he’ll take it because it is so damn good. He lets out a loud sigh that he didn’t realize he’d been keeping in, ‘woo’ing at the fine cup of java.

He reaches for the bread and tries a bit without toppings before proceeding to rip off two more pieces because the bread is disgustingly addictive. A crispy outside that reveals steamy fluff on the inside, which makes Makoto groan in love once he tastes the sweet bread. He almost inhales the toast when he remembers that he was asking Xiangxiang questions and hadn’t even gotten to ask Niji about her shop. 

He rubs the back of his head sheepishly, murmuring out an apology. “S-Sorry, I didn’t mean to ignore you. The coffee is just absolutely phenomenal.”

Niji nods and tilts her head, cheeks blushing at the compliment. “Thank you! Those are Sumatra coffee beans, I’ve had them imported from Indonesia. It took them quite a bit to get here, but I appreciate someone enjoying my house specialty. Usually, the locals say it tastes much more like dirt to them.”

“Oh, trust me, I am definitely a fan of this! I heard about this place all the way in Vietnam at another coffee shop, so I had to come here and-”

“夭壽哦, really?!? Please tell me where they work and what their address is, I’ve never been recommended by another coffee shop before!” Niji now has tears in her eyes and looks near to passing out in excitement. Edamura, almost flung backward by the amount of passion in her voice, has to promise at least ten times that he’ll give her their numbers through text. She nods and starts bouncing in her seat, hyped off the excitement that she’s had her coffee raved about by others. Xiangxiang turns back to Edamura with another grin.

“You came all the way from Vietnam? What are you doing here?”

“Well, I’m doing a coffee tour around the world! I’ve been on suitcases for the past two and a half years and at the end of this 6 months, I plan to move back to Japan and start my own shop. I must have at least 200 coffee shops on my cell phone so I’ll be able to wrangle in some customers through recommendations. Oh, and I have an Instagram!” Edamura pulls out his phone and shows both of them his photos, to which Niji starts frothing at the mouth to the terror of the Japanese coffee critic. She starts shaking Xiangxiang by the shoulder.

“Holy crap, Xiangxiang! The Coffeefarian is in my shop! He’s in my freaking shop!” Xiangxiang looks mildly impressed as her friend continues her full-body shock, sipping her cup of cocoa and sighing at the warmth flowing through her body.

“Well, I’m happy you have your life planned out for the time being. Meanwhile, Niji and I might have to find new housing if the asshole is able to buy out the rest of our neighbors. But, get this…” Xiangxiang leans in close to Edamura, and a cold sense of air rushes into the cafe, but not because of the door opening. It’s similar to a ghost entering a room, a dark chill shuddering down his spine. “I don’t think it’s gonna be for boba at all.”

“W-What do you mean?”

“I’ve done my research on this guy. He’s from Taiwan, Jinjing Xǔ, and his family is not known at all for the bubble tea business. More prominent families that have ties to the bubble tea industry haven’t made any offers with him either from what I’ve seen from news spanning all the way ten years back.” Xiangxiang takes another long sip of her cocoa while Edamura feels a familiar dread building in his gut and tries to chase it away with another sip of his brew.

“And I dug a bit deeper and I found irrefutable evidence regarding what he might be using these factories for. Plus a witness!” 

Niji rolls her eyes at Xiangxiang, snacking on a piece of cocoa-soaked bread as she groans. “Oh, don’t worry, Mr. Edamura. She’s always going on about this ‘conspiracy theory’ of hers.” 

Xiangxiang slaps the bread out of her hands chidingly and Niji yelps in shock, whimpering slightly at the sight of her toast now laying on the floor. “Rude, Xiang!” Xiangxiang smiles playfully at the girl before turning her attention back to Makoto.

“It’s not a conspiracy theory if it’s true! I’ve met one of the victims, I swear on my life, and they came to eat at the shop! But you know what they did to them that was so cruel, Edamura?” She leans in close to his ear and whispers softly in English, almost as if she might get lost in translation if the point would not get across well enough.

“Illegal sex-trafficking and prostitution .”

The blood in Edamura’s veins runs cold as the words utter in his ears. He could almost hear them being repeated by Akemi, only in a slightly different tone and manner. He’s dealt with human trafficking and he knew, as much as he tried to deny it to this day, that some of the kids sold off are being used as sex slaves for the rich and greedy around the world. It makes the coffee in his stomach turn rancid and the bread to feel as heavy as lead. Could he have met the man Xiangxiang was talking about, at one of the many auctions he headed? The thought makes him shudder in disgust at himself and at the man who was apparently being accused by the lady in front of him, who was apparently rambling again.

“His child companies have been, on multiple occasions, accused of housing women and men of all ages in various states of undress and distress but the local news won’t say shit about it! The national news won’t say shit about it! And the man who came to eat at my shop even told me about it after he saw the poster on our wall about a week ago. I won’t go into details but it’s actually repugnant.”

Niji nudges her with an elbow, her words coming out slowly. “Xiang, I don’t deny that shitty things like that happen around Taipei. But, would you really expect someone selling boba to disguise as a sex ring? You know if your theory is true we’ll be their next targets! I don’t want that! And you still haven’t told me why your hand is bleeding in the first place.”

“Oh, that. The man tried to come into the shop and threaten us with a knife but I just grabbed it by the blade and chucked that shit in the back.” Xiangxiang shrugs back at her. Niji rolls her eyes like this is normal practice and goes back to sipping her cup of cocoa.

All the while, Makoto is bewildered beyond belief. Threatening with a knife? Grabbing said knife with her hand? Who the hell was this woman? Makoto finally clears his throat and feels his shoulders sag with dread.

“Why are you telling me all of this?”

Hearing that, the woman’s blue eyes begin twinkling mischievously. “Oh, nothing, I was just hoping… since you ARE a famous Instagrammer… to possibly relay my information to the public? Maybe it’ll gain some traction.” She winks at the end, wrapping up her shady bargain.

Before Makoto could reject the insanely stupid idea, Niji is cutting him off. “Okay, Xiangxiang, stop. For real now. Don’t strongarm him into your ideas. All your evidence? Anecdotal. The man you are targeting? An asshole, sure, but we don’t know if it’s deep enough to deal with sex trafficking. Don’t ask the Coffeefarian to really let you stand on a soapbox to his audience from something that might be built on a couple of stretched lies.”

“Niji! I am not lying about this! Even if all that was bullshit, Xǔ’s still forcing us off our property with force. I am not gonna go down without fighting back. He thinks this entire area is just a monopoly for his new factory, but he doesn’t know me.”

“Yes, he doesn’t know you so how will you get him to notice you? He'll kill you before you even get another complaint out.”

Xiangxiang is silent for a few long seconds, her furious blue eyes in a contest between Niji’s calm and firm brown. Finally, she puts her head on the table and groans.

“I don’t want them to suffer.” Her voice is barely a whisper, almost unintelligible around the sounds of the coffee being brewed in the background. “I don’t want Mama and Papa to suffer. They’ve done so much and… all I’ve done is work in their shop. They love that shop. This is their last location and money’s tight. I’m just trying, okay?” Her voice sounds close to tears, so unlike the confidence surge that Edamura had encountered just 20 minutes ago.

Edamura is stuck between a rock and a hard place. He could feel the prickling in his throat, the jitters in his hands before he had to put on a persona. He didn’t want to go back to what he used to do, the memories of past cons flying around him in wide-screen flashbacks. The thrill of putting people in their place. Seeing despair take place when they realize they have got tricked. Looking down at his phone, a contemplation of whether or not he should help them out shoots through him as he opens the Create tab on Instagram. He could take her word and call the man out, but he knew next to nothing about Jinjing. This wasn’t a public battle he was going to win.

Exiting the app, he’s about to turn off his phone when a notification pops up on his screen. Looking at it closely, he sees that it’s none other than the one who pulled him into the big leagues.

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

I may be a headache but you are the Advil that relieves my soul. 😚

A wild thought runs through Edamura’s head before he squashes it. He shouldn’t ask for help from the stupid French man, but when he looks up, he sees a despondent Xiangxiang being comforted by an equally worried Niji. Her hand runs through the umber skinned woman’s hair, almost unsure if her methods are effective. They remind him of Marie and Sebastian so much... The thought returns, like a cockroach unwilling to die, to his head much stronger and more in his face. He doesn’t have enough time anymore to research shit about a man who probably has a ton of firewalls surrounding his privacy. He should just let a former pro do it for him, no matter how much it’ll hurt his pride. Anger and anxiety run through his veins as he texts Laurent.

[From: Edamame]

I need a favor.

A response from Laurent comes back almost immediately, making Edamura want to slam his head into the wall.

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

Hello, please stop hacking Edamame’s phone, sir/ma’am, before I track you down through the camera and ruin your life. Thank you.

[From: Edamame]

You fucking idiot, it’s still me and I’m still asking for a favor from your dumb French ass.

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

Really, Edamame? Asking me for a favor? You told me back in LA how you never wanted to owe me favors, color me surprised.

[From: Edamame]

Jesus Christ, you have the memory of an elephant. Times change and your dumbass is the only one who I'm sure can do this for me. Lucrative piece of shit.

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

I love backhanded compliments, especially from you, soybean.

Also, Shi-Won has double the experience as me, you just want to message me. I understand 😙

You must be in quite the ordeal though. I’ll help you however you want ❤

What did you need, mon chéri ?

[From: Edamame]

One, for you to up and die, selfish pervert.

Two, give me all the information you might be able to find on Jinjing Xǔ.

Use your connections, whatever you can to find a trace of something bad about them.

Edamura set his phone down, looking back at Xiangxiang. She seems to have gotten out of her slump, but a little bit worse for wear. She has a pensive look on her face, sipping at her mug with less enthusiasm than before. He decides to alleviate her thoughts for a bit.

“Okay, Xiangxiang, I don’t know what to do for you, but…” At the pause, the white-haired woman’s eyes lit up in curiosity, hope, and another emotion Edamura could not place. Excitement? He couldn’t tell. “I did ask one of my colleagues to research the man as well. Let’s say he’s got a little more power than you and I have at finding stuff out.” 

Xiangxiang's eyes go wide and her face breaks out in an ear-splitting grin. ‘Really? Oh god, are you sure? Thank you so much, Edamura!” Her joy apparently has spread to her limbs as she lunges across the table to give the Japanese man a large hug. Not expecting it at all, he stumbles a bit in his chair before he rights himself. “Oh, look! There’s already a response!”

Edamura looks down at his phone on the table and sees, indeed, Laurent has responded already. He pats the clingy Xiangxiang away for a bit and reaches for the device, unlocking it and reading the message.

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

I knew you’d finally get to Taipei, Edamame. And this is all without my planning!

A sinking feeling reaches Edamura’s guts before he responds back.

[From: Edamame]

What the fuck, Xǔ really did it?

You dumbass, do you expect me to go to places and ask for your help on potential bad guys?

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

Of course! You were also so close in Greece to finding out about that traffic jam caused by the local mafia, if only you took a left. I had to con them myself, the poor men ☹

So, Jinjing Xû. He's been on my list for a while, but I never had the chance to visit Taiwan on my travels before meeting the apple of my eye.

[From: Edamame]

Disgusting.

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

Oh, I see why you chose them, Edamame. I forgot how scummy this man was. Head of Taiwanese sex trafficking imports, tax fraud, and multiple accounts of assault against men, women, and children. A true piece of trash.

[From: Edamame]

It takes one to know one.

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

Do you have a plan or just fleshing out the idea?

I'd be happy to let you take the reins but after London… 

[From: Edamame]

I will kick your perfect teeth in if you mention that again. 

Also, I'm just fleshing out the idea. I will contact you once I talk more with the one who gave me the info.

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

Of course, Edamame. I'm sure whoever told you about him would love this. Tell Cynthia, Abby, and the others once you have something "brewing". 😂

[From: Edamame]

Your puns are not funny. 

Got you. I'll just finish up this conversation with the clientele.

Edamura finally puts his phone down again, looking up at Xiangxiang and Niji. They had both finished their cups of cocoa and were whispering to each other, one excitedly and the other nervously. He clears his throat and both women glance back at him, eyebrows raised.

"I can help you out," Edamura says and Xiangxiang starts clapping happily. Niji sighs and lays her head on the table, frazzled. 

Xiangxiang takes his hands in her hands and begins shaking them. "Whoever your friend is, thank them so much! They must be very convincing if they got you to agree."

"Oh, they're convincing alright…" Edamura rolls his eyes and continues. "But are you okay with swindling?"

The hands on his suddenly tighten hard and he lets out a yelp of pain. He looks up at Xiangxiang's face, about to ask why she did that so suddenly when he sees her expression. A fierce, glazed gaze analyzing his movements, staring hard at his face. Her voice has a slight lilt to it as she responds to him, almost like she's in a trance.

"Swindling? It sounds… illegal, but if it helps get the man off of my family's restaurant, sure." Her gaze never leaves his face as she says this, making him extremely uncomfortable under her blue gaze. 

Edamura lets out a nervous chuckle before continuing. "Y-Yeah, swindling. I believe some people call it conning?"

"Conning…" Her head tilts to the side, the words lingering on the tip of her tongue. Edamura notices her breaths quickening and her grip tightening, almost as if she was in pain. Why was she getting so upset?

"Are you fine, Xiangxiang?"

"Yes, I'm just getting a little bit of a migraine. Doesn't happen as often as it used to but I get by. The conversation is making me... curious though."

"A-Alright then. Well, try not to tell anyone. You too, Niji." The woman in question nods in affirmation and looks at Xiangxiang's hands, which are still gripping his hands.

"You should let go, Xiangxiang. His hands must be hurting."

It seems Xianxiang finally notices she is gripping too hard and lets go, releasing Makoto's hands. He lets out a breath of relief and starts rubbing his hands, trying hard to get the circulation back in place. He begins to look at her dainty hands and wonder where the hell she got all that strength from. His eyes never get the chance to go past her fingers as he notices a ring on her hand.

A golden ring embedded with a blue gemstone.

His breaths catch in his lungs. He feels like he's going insane. He's seen this ring before, seen the design on someone, but he can't place it. There's no way he's seen a similar ring like it more than 3 times in his life, but this one, in particular, gravitates towards him, compelling him to ask about it. It's so familiar, it almost makes him go mad with trying to figure out where it came from. Like an intense version of deja vu.

"Xiangxiang, that's actually a very nice ring. Where did you get it?"

She looks down at the ring on her finger nonchalantly and smiles down at it. "Oh, my father gave this to me, like, three years ago! I always wear it because it's so pretty, but my mama always scolds me because it could get stolen easily. I call it my good luck charm!"

Edamura lets out a sigh of relief and knocks his brain back into place. Three years ago, he was still doing cons with the others. He doesn't know anyone who even wore a ring on their finger, let alone owned jewelry. The only one who had constant jewelry was Laurent, and the one thing he could remember about it was that it was a necklace with a blue gemstone on it. Edamura clicks his fingers and smiles, finally figuring out the conundrum that annoyed him. That must've been where he saw the similarities!

"Well, it's a beautiful ring. I'm sure your father loves you if he gave you such a nice gift. I just got deja vu for some reason." Edamura says with a smile, his mind settled once more. Xiangxiang laughs at him as if he said a funny joke and nods her head.

"Oh, that was me too earlier! I guess since we're here in a coffee shop, it'd be deja 'brew'! Haha!" Edamura has to physically hold back a cringe at the pun she says and just nod while grimacing back at her nicely. "But it is a beautiful ring, thank you. But getting back on topic, we'll be swindling Jinjing?"

"Yes. My friend confirmed with me that he's bad news, so we'll plan something out. I'll give you more details as time goes on, but for now, just keep delaying him building it until I can think of something. You too, Niji, because I'm sure they'll be coming after this shop too."

Edamura's hands extend out to both of them, waiting for them to take his handshake. 

Xiangxiang takes one enthusiastically while Niji blushes at the hand extended towards her and nods quickly.

"I-I'll do anything to protect my shop and its workers! We're gonna stay in business to have more people recommend the shop in different countries! Thank you, Mr. Edamura!"

They both shake his hands, very excited, and a lot less glum than they did before they had their drinks. Edamura takes down the coffee shop number and Xiangxiang's number as he pays for the drinks (to the delight of Xiangxiang and chagrin of Niji), tipping extra for the good cup of joe. He waves to both of them as he leaves the shop.

"I'll keep in touch, Xiangxiang! And Niji, I'll tag the shop in my post. Once we're done with this, I'll ask you for your coffee shop recommendation."

"Of course Edamura, thank you so much!"

"Thank you so much, Mr. Edamura! Take care!"

Edamura leaves the shop and walks up to his taxi, which he had called ahead of time to drop him off at a restaurant known for their spicy beef noodle soup. It was 10:30 AM and even though he'd already had a cup of coffee and some bread, his stomach grumbled at the thought of eating some brisket and homemade noodles with hot soup. As he is driven away, he pulls out his phone and looks at the messages Laurent sent him while he was busying himself with talking to the girls.

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

What's the name of the client, BTW? I want to know so that I have a name. Do you have a picture too?

[From: Edamame]

No picture yet, I forgot to get that. I do have a name though. Xiangxiang Guāng, female, probably early-to-mid thirties?

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

Hmm, I can't find anything on them. Must not use social media. I'd prefer a picture to keep myself updated on them, but you are the boss. 

The pariah will keep himself on the edge of his seat guessing what she looks like.

I'm gonna meet her soon enough and use my natural charm to get on their good side 😙

[From: Edamame]

Yeah, no photo for you. Definitely.

You're not gonna seduce her. I wouldn't want to endanger her by her getting to know you.

Plus, you couldn't charm your way out of a paper bag.

Asshole.

Edamura contemplates sending him a message about the ring on Xiangxiang's hand and pauses. A memory, long suppressed by him, flashes through his mind as he remembers his dad telling him Laurent's backstory. About how the necklace meant something to him because of Dorothy. His blood boils at the thought but he tucks away his anger and redirects his face at the phone.

[From: Stupid Blonde Man]

I am lovely once you get to know me and you know this, Edamame.

Call me when you get back to the hotel and we'll start this. 

Guess I'm taking a break from being a diplomat to con once more. I'd only ever do this for you, Edamame ❤

Edamura sighs and leans back into his chair, nodding at his screen as if Laurent will see it. He thinks back to Xiangxiang and Niji sitting in the shop, discussing what just happened passionately. Xiangxiang would probably be bouncing in her chair, excited at the thought of getting back at the man. Niji was probably fretting over whether or not they should trust Makoto, especially since they had just met them that day. 

He stares out the window and sighs, his grumbling stomach taking control of his mind once more.

Meanwhile, Xiangxiang and Niji were still talking excitedly at the coffee shop.

"Oh my god! That was crazy! Mr. Edamura must have so many connections from his coffee travels! He was really cute. Oh shit, I'm gonna get so many new customers..." While Niji slowly deteriorated from excited to nervous at the expected boom in sales, Xiangxiang is going blue from overexcitement.

"Holy crap, I didn't think something would happen so quickly! Niji, that guy is insane! I mean, he barely knows me and he's already believing me and I thought Mama and Papa and I would have to start living in those 1 bedroom apartments in the innermost part of the city, I mean-"

"Xiang! Xiangxiang, it's okay. Breathe..." Xiangxiang takes a deep breath at the calming words from her friend and lets out a breathtaking smile, looking at the ring on her hand and admiring it once more. The blue glimmered off the ring as if it was winking at her.

"You really are a good luck charm!"

Her thoughts flashback to the generous Japanese man and she hugs Niji tight, needing to hold onto something lest her dream be snatched away. She would be able to keep her family going. She would be free.

FIVE DAYS LATER

Edamura sits in his newly upgraded hotel room, reading a magazine. A bored voice rings up next to him.

"We've been here for two hours and done jack shit. So, we're going to do what, virgin?"

"We'll discuss that once Laurent arrives. That bastard is unusually late for something I asked him to be here for!"

"Edamame, relax. He's down in the lobby, he just texted me."

"Thank you, Cynthia. I'm not sure why he just won't tell me."

The redhead shrugs and lays her arm along the head of the couch, sipping an enormous amount of red wine from a crystal glass. Abigail is sitting on the bed, playing video games on the large flat screen. Shi-Won and Kudo are both talking at the dining table, something about Kudo's child. A knock at the door grabs everyone's attention but Abby's, who continues to play her FPS game.

Edamura rolls his eyes and gets up to open the door. His stomach has been acting up all morning and he can't figure out why. He's had good food and plenty of sleep but there are knots everywhere in his gut, unable to go away. Probably just nerves from his first big con discussion in a while. He opens the door with his eyes closed, huffing at the tall man in front of him.

"Why is it that whenever I plan something, you're late? We've been waiting for- mmph!" He tries to speak but can't because there is a pair of eager lips latching to his and trying desperately to swallow him whole. Edamura begins flailing around and grasping at the door frame, trying to separate himself and the desperate French man in front of him. Two hands appear out of nowhere and grip him by the ass, pulling him even closer and making him squeal with mortification as he sees out of the corner of his eyes Cynthia taking a video, smirking happily. Abby continues playing her video games and Shi-Won is collecting money from a grumbling Kudo. His eyes widen as he realizes he was the only one not to notice that this would happen.

The two hands on his ass suddenly lift him up and he's in the air. Out of reflex, he wraps his legs around Laurent's waist and the man smiles against his lips. Getting a bit angrier, Makoto bites at Laurent's lips and he groans, releasing the other's mouth from his. Immediately, Edamura screams.

"FUCKER!" 

Laurent takes no heed to this comment and only utters one word to the room, his sleepy eyes narrowing more in lust.

"Bedroom?"

The entire room points at the mentioned area simultaneously, even Abby who is busy smashing demon heads in. Laurent gives them all a winning smirk and starts walking towards the bedroom. Edamura tries to squirm out of his hold but the grasp the French man has on him is iron-clad, holding him close to the infuriating blonde.

Edamura feels something large and hard press against his thigh and his eyes widen exponentially. He tries once more to unclasp his legs from the man holding him, willing to drop to the floor in favor of whatever is going to happen next. Almost as soon as he drops them, Laurent grabs the back of his knees and hooks his arms under them, keeping them in place even further. The Japanese man yelps and clasps his arms around Laurent's neck even more. It's the only thing preventing him from smashing his skull on the wooden flooring.

Laurent has been sucking red markings into his neck the entire time, not caring at all about the younger man's efforts at deterring him. As soon as Edamura unlatches his legs and he almost falls, the Belgian man bites him possessively on the neck, eliciting a cry of pained pleasure. He places wet kisses on his neck all the way to the bed, where he unceremoniously throws Makoto soon after.

Edamura, meanwhile, is furious. Laurent is late and as soon as he arrives, he just kisses him in front of everyone! What was his deal? Did he not know the meaning of the word 'privacy'!?!

"Hey, bastard! Wait one fucking moment! Don't pull this shit on me as soon as you arrive! We have a meeting, what the-" And then just as he's about to finish his sentence, a large body cages him in. The room is somewhat dark, the curtains covering a majority of the sunlight and the door closed without Makoto even noticing. There is some light filtering in around the drapes, making the shadows of the room sharper and pronounced. Which makes Laurent look even more stunningly sexy.

The blonde man is smiling, but not a regular kind of smile. This one has underlying tones, ones that would put a succubus to shame and make even the dirtiest of whores blush. His blue eyes are crazed, holding Edamura in place with its piercing intensity. The blonde hair on his head and sideburns are almost as pristine as they were the last time he saw him 4 months ago, save for a few ruffles here and there from running his hands through it. The man looked deprived, craving something. Edamura had an inkling as to what that craving might be.

"The meeting can wait, Edamame. Didn't I tell you?" A hand grips Makoto's face, squishing his cheeks together, softly but firmly. The Japanese man's eyes widen at the dominant gesture. He shakes his head, not remembering what this French bastard had told him. Laurent tuts at him, disappointed, and begins to close the distance between them. Edamura closes his eyes and whines when he hears the words growl out of the ex-con artist's mouth.

"You have such a bad memory and a bad mouth. I told you: I am going to punish you."

A light shiver runs down Edamura's spine. The meeting could wait a bit.

Chapter Text

At the top of the dining table, Edamura coughs into his hand and he looks down at everyone staring at him earnestly when one certain person's hand raises up. Edamura sighs wearily, knowing what’s coming up, before pointing at the person and nodding.

"Yes, Abby, a question?"

"Uh-huh. Why does your neck look like it got into a boxing match with a baby and the baby won?"

Everyone breaks out in laughter at Abby's jab while Edamura fumes at the head of the table. "Stop making fun of these! You all know where they come from."

"Unfortunately," Abby chimes in once more.

"Seconded."

"I agree."

"It's disgusting."

"Hey!" Both Edamura and Laurent now chide in at the same time, causing the laughter to increase its size and pitch. Laurent is unusually quiet for today, which would be concerning if they didn't take his new appearance into account. His clothes reeked of post-coital pheromones and he has a grin-addled face. His hair is mussed up, eyes calm as a river, and his shirt is unbuttoned and untucked with small red bites lining his collarbone. Edamura huffs and leans back in his chair, a dull thumping appearing in his head.

"Okay, guys. Sorry for calling all of you here on such short notice, but I have a new job for us. You all in?"

"Edamame, we wouldn't fly from all across the world to let you know in Taiwan that we aren't available. Plus, it's exciting to go back to doing this! Taking care of Kawin is nice and acting is always a great challenge but putting my skills to use for cons? Even better." Cynthia takes a modest drag from her wine glass before setting it down, a small smile gracing her face.

"Climbing mountains and skydiving is fun, but I guess hanging out with y'all is more exciting." Abby shrugs as she continues playing her game at the table.

"I'll always help you, Edamura-san! You worked for me and even went to jail on my behalf. I could never say sorry or repay you enough for that." Edamura smiles at Kudo, a bit touched at his response.

"I have to help a fellow Korean out." Abby snorts as Edamura bangs his head on the table, his happy mood gone once again. Shi-Won is smiling though, a thoughtful glance on her face. "But, to be truthful, you had a lot of potential to be great all the way back when Laurent scouted you. Seeing you initiate a con like this should be interesting."

"And if it's as hectic as his last planned 'con', the payout should be even better."

"You know it, darling!" Cynthia and Shi-Won high five each other, excited at the prospect of swindling more money out of their target. Edamura slams his hands on the table and regathers everyone's scattered attention.

"Okay! Let's get on with the job info." Edamura pulls out a manila folder from underneath the table and opens it, displaying the contents in front of the party. A couple of photos and files pop out.

"Our target is Jinjiang Xǔ. He is the 54-year-old CEO of Xena Corporations, which primarily focuses on beauty products and a large nail salon chain popular in Northern and Southwest Asia and parts of Eastern Europe. Recently, they've been trying to branch into the boba industry with some success, able to fund three different boba factories with the most recent one being their fourth."

Edamura places a photo of one of the factories on the table, pointing at it. "However, our sources tell us lots of the boba factories have been found to house different materials unrelated to boba, such as sewing machines and bunk beds, similar to a sweatshop. Multiple trucks have been seen coming in and out of these factories despite the state of these machines not being enough to pump out enough to fill a truckload. Furthermore, the disappearance of people in Northern and Southwest Asia has increased dramatically over the past two and a half years. Despite us dismantling the Suzaku Empire," Edamura takes a shuddering breath at the memory of Akemi and continues, "these disappearances have been unaccounted for in that regard and seem to have stayed consistent for the past few years."

Edamura pulls out one more photo and everyone grimaces once they see it. It's extremely gruesome, an emancipated nude body of a girl barely clinging to life covered in bruise marks, cum, and something dried running down her red-slashed legs. "This is one of the victims found just a couple of weeks ago at an orgy palace in Chiayi City, Taiwan. Tattered, bruised, and nearly dead at 19 years old, almost 2,890 kilometers away from her home in Mongolia. She was last seen over a year ago at one of the company's nail salons, getting a manicure. Once she was put into intensive care, she confessed how she was sexually trafficked around Asia and ended up here in Taiwan to the nurses. She's been moved out of the country at the moment for safety reasons, but I have 5 more photos of boys and girls with similar stories. This is the type of company we're dealing with."

Cynthia raises a hand to her face, eyes wide and horrified. "Oh my god, these are so much more vivid than the Suzaku case…"

"I didn't think I'd agree with you, but yeah. What Akemi did was inhumane enough, but this… this is monstrous. Especially hearing the stories during their confinement." Edamura's stomach curls at the thought of having to relisten to the tapes, the broken voices of children and adults alike reliving their worst nightmares, voices too tired to cry again.

"The person who brought this to my attention is named Xiangxiang Guāng, a restaurant worker at the edge of Taipei, Taiwan. She'll be counting on us to con him so she doesn't have to lose her family restaurant."

Everyone nods, some silently rolling their eyes at the familiar situation presented to them.

"So, some things about Jinjiang that Laurent, " Makoto states as he gestures to the relaxed Belgian man sitting next to him, "was able to find out about him is that he's a huge foodie. He enjoys traveling to foreign countries for lunch and being back home for dinner. His kitchen staff has three personal chefs, each specializing in his favorite cuisines. We'll use his food addiction against him." Edamura grabs a printout he created of a 2D room layout and lays it flat on the table.

"I'll get close to him using my online persona, the Coffeefarian, and Laurent acting as a corrupt Michelin Inspector. We're gonna "attend" a premiere food gala together. Everything fanciful and playing into his desires full of his favorite foods and other 'interests', which will include paid actors." 

Cynthia raises a hand to pause Edamura. "You're going to hire paid strippers for your con, Edamura? Impressive, but what if he touches them? Knowing him, he might want to bring one home."

Edamura goes bright red at that comment. What absolute timing. "W-Well, that's where y-you guys come in."

Cynthia, Abby, and Shi-Won blink a few times, not processing the comment. Once it does, a multitude of voices breaks loose. 

"I'm going to be a what?!? "

"Filthy virgin, you've already seen me naked. Now you want to see me naked and serving you food?"

"Now, now, ladies! Shi-Won has some experience serving food like this, I'll make great honeypots out of you two!"

Edamura buries his embarrassed face into his hands, trying hard not to bury his hands in more as Cynthia starts shaking Laurent in a tipsy rage.

"I bet this was your idea, you blonde idiot! You stupid pervert! I demand you make yourself one of the servers too!" The thought of a naked Laurent serving pieces of dried meat in nothing but a skimpy swimsuit leaves Makoto speechless and mouth slightly open, trying to determine whether he wants to hurl or to get a boner. Laurent laughs airily and nods his head almost too easily in agreement.

"Of course! I can always have Kudo take my spot as Michelin Inspector, but who else will be the suave man guiding Mr. Xǔ to his demise?"

"Edamame, obviously. He has just as much of a sexy appeal to him than you do. You even said so." Laurent shrugs at Cynthia's blunt comment and smiles at Edamura.

"I stand corrected. You hear that, soybean? Cynthia wants equality, she gets equality," the blonde idiot says cheekily, throwing a wink at Edamura. Groaning tiredly, Makoto writes down some extra notes on a piece of paper in front of him.

"Alright, there. Kudo will be the Michelin Inspector. We'll get close to Xǔ at the gala, make him invest in our food expansion A.K.A fake prostitution idea, and blackmail him so hard he won't be able to fund his sick trafficking ring. Now, all we need to do is get set and make contact with our target. I plan to do that in a few days when he visits his tailor here in downtown Taipei. The only people who have to worry over here with me is Kudo and Abby. Any questions?"

Everyone seems to be pretty content in their roles, even Cynthia who, despite reservations, has come to terms with her part. She mentions that she's going to start cooking dinner once the meeting finishes and that seems to wrap things up quickly. With the meeting over, everyone starts to mill around the hotel room. A hand comes down on Edamura's shoulder.

"It's great to finally see you again, soybean." Laurent's hand is unceremoniously smacked from Edamura's shoulder, the Japanese man glaring at him.

"Don't touch me again or talk to me unless it's about the con. These," Edamura points to his red scarf of a neck, "are all your fault, you French fuck, and I will get my revenge soon."

"I'm Belgian, Edamame," Laurent states with a pout on his face.

"You're a Bitch-ian, Laurent."

"That's a rather weak insult, Edamame. I'm sure you'll improve with time, just like your English. Oh, wait..." Edamura rolls his eyes and knocks Laurent aside at his unneeded commentary, ignoring the con man once more.

He sits next to Abby on the couch and falls back into it, not even fazed at the middle finger directed at him. The Arabian girl next to him side-eyes him while continuing her game.

"So we're going on another con because some random woman let her woo you with her sorrows? Your big heart strikes again, Edamame."

Edamura groans at the nickname. "Please not you too, Abby. I already can't stand Laurent and Cynthia calling me that."

"Not my problem, pay-per-view." Another groan escapes him as she glares at him blankly. "But, I do hope we catch this fucker. Whenever you get involved, shit always seems to turn sideways and that's where the fun begins."

A feral look slowly spreads on Abby's face and Edamura has to hold back a fond grin. He's heard the girl speak about her past a bit over the years and vaguely understands why she's like this. He might not be able to fulfill her death rush all the time, as unhealthy as that may seem, but being someone so close to the sporadic woman and being trusted by her to provide some relief is good enough.

A few hours pass by without anything happening besides a tasty dinner and more sexual passes by Laurent, which get denied swiftly by Makoto. Once everyone is about to go back to their rooms, barring Shi-Won and Kudo who left even earlier under the excuse that "older people need their beauty rest", a message notification pings on Edamura's phone and he looks down to read it. 

[From: Xiangxiang Guāng]

Hi, Edamura!!! I was just wondering if you'd like to meet sometime soon and discuss the plans for the con! I would love to bring everyone involved to the restaurant and we'll serve you some food.

[From: Makoto Edamura]

I think we're fine right now. The people on my team are professionals and have to get into a headspace to really perform well. 

Also, between the two of us, there's a certain someone who I really don't want you to meet because of how much of a sleazy bastard they are. They might try to seduce you.

"I suddenly feel a slight shiver. Edamame, you better not be talking bad about me."

"Don't worry, Laurent, I'm not." Edamura lies to him as easily as possible, preoccupied more with the phone in his hand.

[From: Xiangxiang Guāng]

How protective of you lol. I'm good with confrontations like that though so it's all fine. When would I be able to meet all of you?

Edamura put his hand to his chin and narrowed his eyes. If everything was to go according to plan, they could meet her after they convince the target to go to the gala. Over the past few days, Xiangxiang had been texting Edamura about what she can do to help promote and smooth the process of the con along. It was unnerving to see how committed she was to getting rid of the Taiwanese tycoon and Makoto was a bit unsure how to have her help. However, he thought of something rather beneficial for the both of them.

He had texted her that she could help provide some of the food for the gala buffet. Since her family was in the restaurant business and one of Xû's favorite dishes was Taiwanese seafood, they could provide some of that to him and be compensated for the cooking. They hadn't set a date yet to plan out all the other foods they'd need for the con though.

[From: Makoto Edamura]

How about after I make contact in a few days? We need to meet with other food providers and you can help us narrow it down a bit.

Once we get the ball rolling for the plan, it will go by much faster. We're usually in this for the long game, but I don't feel comfortable having him around much longer with what he's in charge of. You should come to the hotel we are at though so your place doesn't get scouted out.

[From: Xiangxiang Guāng]

Of course! I'll bring some food over for you to taste from the restaurant. See you in a few days, Edamura!

Edamura's thumbs stop typing and he closes the application as a person sits next to him.

"Are you alright, Edamame?" Laurent is now holding a similar glass of wine that Cynthia had been drinking, sipping at it slowly.

"Yeah, I'm fine. The client just wants to be a part of the con so I'm allowing them to cater some of the gala. They won't be the main event but they'll be contributing."

"Oh my, how interesting. They sound energetic. When will they be arriving?"

"On a day I have you picking out your clothes. Far, far away from here." A glance to the side has Edamura snickering at the French man's unamused pouty face. "I'm kidding, all of you will meet her. Probably at the end of the week after I make contact." 

Laurent nods curtly and raises his glass, blushing from the alcohol influence. "Cheers to that. I promise I won't flirt with her."

"You promising something is like asking a bucket with cracks in it not to leak."

"I told you with time your insults would improve, Edamame." 

Edamura snorts at the comeback and points to the door. "Out, now."

Laurent merely winks at him and takes a final gulp of his glass of wine. "Whatever do you mean, Edamame? This is my hotel room now."

A vein suddenly appears on the Japanese man's neck, threatening to burst. "You better be lying your ass off, Laurent."

"Nope! I transferred the room over to me and paid for the entire bill, so you and I will f- MMPH!" He doesn't get to finish his sentence as a now murderous bean tries to asphyxiate the Belgian man below him with a throw pillow. 

Laurent starts flailing under the pressure on his face before grabbing the furious man on top of him by the waist and sending both of them careening to the floor. Edamura's shoulder connects with the hard wooding on the floor and lets out a yelp of pain, releasing the pillow in favor of his throbbing shoulder. The taller man is finally allowed air and gets up off the ground, panting against the sofa with choked breaths of air.

"W-Wow, Edamame, you-you really can't- hah... -really can't take a joke anymore. I was kidding."

Edamura rubs his shoulder, wincing, before narrowing his eyes at Laurent. "I can never trust you to do me like that, you bastard." Laurent nods and grins once more at Edamura, eyes softening despite the violent act done to him.

"Laurent, go back to your room to jack off and leave Edamame alone. The little brain between your legs has more brain cells than your regular one does. It probably doesn't even recognize that Edamame was actually trying to kill you."

"Edamame would never!" 

A few silent seconds stretch by before the Belgian man shakes his head, chuckling at the deadpan Abby. "No, I take that back. He most definitely might."

Brushing his shoulder, Laurent gets up off the sofa and brushes away the dirt that had clung to his expensive suit and refixes his hair.  He glances down at the hurt Edamura on the floor and graciously holds out a hand to him, waiting for him to reach up to catch it. The Japanese man is still holding his shoulder in pain, not realizing that help is nearby, and begins to sit up when the blonde man’s voice calls out to him.

“Take my hand, Edamame. You look a bit winded.”

Looking back up at Laurent, Edamura grimaces up to see the older man extending his hand to him with a smile. Standing there, waiting for him. Expecting him. 

The floor is cold. The air around him hot with smoke and gunfire and the hollering of people fills his senses. The two conflicting senses are overwhelming. He opens his eyes.

His father stands above him, the red liquid running down his chest from the burst pack. He’s smiling down at him and saying words that hold some meaning, holding out his hand with a smile on his face. A smile he hasn’t seen in a decade or so. One that holds immense warmth, fondness, and pride that his son had just conned Akemi Suzaku of 100 billion yen. A hand that expects him to forgive him for all the things he’s done to the family, to him, to his mom.

It sickens him to no end. He wants to stab the hand with the sword that was kicked out of his hand. He actually wants to run the sword through his father’s gut.

But he won’t. He can’t. He hides his pain, his fury, his tears, and…

Edamura smacks the hand away with a disgruntled look on his face. “Why’d you push me to the floor, dude! First my neck, now my shoulder…”, he says while rubbing his arm.

A flash of confusion passes Laurent's face before he falls back into his easy grin and nods sagely. “Ah, sorry about that. If you’d like, I can help massage the area back into place if you-”

Edamura doesn’t even say anything as he hauls the tall blonde man out the front door, almost carrying the man with how noncompliant he’s being. He pushes the man out and Laurent stumbles forward before catching himself on the wall. He looks behind himself and grins at the Japanese man, leaning back and waving with his eyes closed. 

“We’ll discuss more of this soon, Edamame! Good night.” 

“Good night, Laurent.” Edamura closes the door on him, letting out a final sigh of relief. He releases the doorknob, just realizing that he had been gripping it white-knuckled, and returned to the living room where Abby and Cynthia were cleaning up the small messes around them.

Cynthia looks up at him and smiles. “Did you kiss your lover goodbye?” 

Edamura makes a disgusted face and sits down on the couch. “No, I didn’t. Kicked his ass to the curb,” he says as he yawns and looks at the bedroom wistfully. “I think I’m gonna go to sleep now. I’ll see you both in the morning. Don’t-”

“-let Laurent in. With how much you hate him, almost every sentence seems to be tied to him, pay-per-view.”

Edamura throws a middle finger at Abby, which is thrown back with double the vigor.

"Good night, Cynthia. Good night, Abby."

"Good night, Edamame." Both of their responses, simultaneously teasing and impassive, make him groan half-heartedly. 

He retreats into the hotel's bedroom and is hit by the feeling of the cold night air. He shivers, trembling as he walks towards the opened window to close it. At least it had gotten rid of the smell of sex in the room. He shivers once again and he isn’t sure if it is because of the current gust of wind blowing into the room or the thought of what he did here just a few hours before.

As he strips off his clothes and snuggles underneath his comforter, his thoughts barely have the time to ponder more on the con of the upcoming days as sleep takes him under.

"Rise and grind, Edamura-san!"

Sipping his cup of coffee for the day (which were made from a small bag of beans that he purchased in Istanbul), Edamura yawns back at Kudo. The old man has a wide smile on his face and his outfit for today is nondescript, befitting a person supposedly in charge of tasting restaurants under the radar. Edamura still has yet to change into his clothes for the day.

"おはよう, Kudo-san," [Good morning, Kudo.] The younger Japanese man mumbles out to the elder.

"I'm ready to go out whenever you are! Is Abigail ready too?" 

Edamura scratches his head as he downed the last dregs of the cup of joe, placing his cup in the room's sink to wash later. A fleeting sigh leaves him as he walks back to his room. "Yes, she's in the bathroom at the moment changing. She needs her privacy to get into that specific… attire."

At the same time that he was about to open his door, it flings wide open. Edamura jumps back, the door barely missing his head as the woman in question walks out onto the living room floor.

Black and pink are not usually a staple of Abigail's attire, but today is an exception. Her regular style of hoodies and t-shirts have been completely replaced, which has instead been fitted with a layered pouf black dress filled with hot pink frills and black platform shoes, where the heels had been accented with more hot pink. The straps of her shoes are entirely outfitted with translucent gems that shimmer in the light, showing off the wealth that encapsulates the cute outfit. Edamura nods his head once.

"I'd say Cynthia did a great job choosing an outfit for you."

"Yeah. It feels like I'm in a tutu again. Except no ballerina would ever wear shoes like these." As if to make a point, Abby runs at the wall and jumps off of it, doing a one-legged backflip as Edamura screams of fear, from the possibility of her accidentally snapping her neck, echoes around the room. Despite his anxiety spike, she lands perfectly in arabesque, holding her hands out for balance. 

Her head snaps to the Japanese coffee critic as she deadpans him while holding position. "Get dressed, pay-per-view. We need to be there by 2 PM and I was promised popcorn chicken by Kudo once we're done." 

Edamura nods in relief as he shuts the door to pull his brown suit on.

Over the past few days, they had custom ordered a suit matching Abby's to be arrived just half an hour after Xú's, which would be perfect to promote their "business", a food-share company that would help bridge restaurants connections between Asia and central Europe disguised as another prostitution ring. Laurent had already pulled ropes to make the entire plot believable, so now Edamura just had to come into contact with him.

Their arrival at the tailors is met with a short waiting time, sitting down at the waiting area, and exchanging meaningless plans to each other until the man of the hour comes into view. Mr. Jinjiang Xú.

Professionally dyed black hair. A larger than average gut. A lustrous Rolex watch on his left wrist. Studded earrings in both lobes. Hand-pressed clothes that looked too nice on a man that was the head of a criminal ring. Edamura gives Xǔ a once-over before nodding minutely and re-wrapping his arm around Abby, her acting as his primary "eye candy" bait. A pivotal piece to put the whole plan all together.

If Abigail was uncomfortable with the contact, she didn't let it show. Her eyes soften as she snuggles under Edamura's arm, effortlessly looking complacent and demure. Her eyes glance up and she catches sight of Xǔ in all his glory. A gasp of excitement leaves her as if she is utterly taken by the man, and the operation begins.

"Can I have that?" Her loud exclaims draw Xú's attention and Edamura has to inhale a quick breath that always comes before meeting a new target before he puts on his facade.

"What do you want, pet?" Edamura drawls out at her in a disinterested tone. "You can't just yell out like that in public."

"I want…" Her mouth puckers as she scans over Xú, eyeing his entire look before settling on his eyes. The man matches her gaze and waves at her, obviously amused at the Iraqi girl in her cute dress. "I want new earrings! Like the fat man's over there!"

Edamura pulls his hand back and smacks Abby hard upside the head, eliciting a weep of pain (that is very not Abby-like) from her and a wince from Kudo, who is obviously not expecting abuse of any sort from his former partner. The younger Japanese con-artist talked this out with the woman in the past ("I've done a con for Laurent that involved me getting my ass kicked by a professional boxer. If you think that you can hurt me, my left pinky toe has more strength than your whole right arm." She had discussed to him over a cup of American coffee a few years ago.) and is already thinking of twenty different ways to apologize to Abby by buying her so much Taiwanese food before he hears a harsh gasp of indignance come from in front of him.

Hook.

"Have some fucking manners, Abby! You don't even know who that man is, do you?" Abby shakes her head at Edamura's question and he facepalms himself. "What did I expect? I got you to be cute, not self-aware. Go over there and say sorry. Now." 

It doesn't have to be Abby who goes up to the man before there's a large body standing in front of him. Edamura looks up to find Xǔ standing above his waiting couch, an army of bodyguards holding his flank. He looks slightly angry, but more importantly, he looks interested in Edamura. 

"Hello there, sir. I'm sorry you had to see that." Edamura answers to the bulking figure above him in Mandarin. "I'm also sorry that she said that about you."

"I'm less interested in that and more interested in why the hell you are beating her up?" Edamura has to refrain from snorting at the irony of what this dirtbag trafficker just said. His way of speaking is also different from the normal Taiwanese accent as if he grew up in mainland China. "She did nothing wrong besides insulting me, which is my fault for gaining a bit of a tummy. Does she want my earrings? I'll give them to her. I just don't want to see weak shits like you doing something to a woman like her." Xǔ takes off his earrings (which, by what Edamura can tell, will fetch into the millions for retail) and gently hands them to Abigail with a smile. Abigail returns the smile gently before tucking them away in a small pink purse Cynthia gave her.

The bigger man turns his attention back to Edamura. "So, you beat women, hm? Is that what gets you off?" Xǔ begins to approach further before Edamura puts a soft hand up.

"I'm sorry if we got off on the wrong foot, Xǔ." The man raises an eyebrow at his name and looks down at Edamura with a new sense of fascination. He knew he had him interested because most didn't know Xǔ unless you were one of the two: a beautician or a trafficker. "My name is Makoto and I'm happy to meet you."

"The feeling isn't returned, Makoto." Xǔ readjusts his suit before continuing. "If you're gonna talk about beauty, I don't have much time to talk about products at the moment. My team is currently formulating-"

"Oh, I'm not here about beauty, don't worry." 

Cutting him off seems to do the trick. Xǔ looks down at Edamura again, confused but a conclusion forming in his eyes. "If it's not about beauty, then-"

"I'm also into the boba industry, here and there." Xú's eyes widen before he relaxes and grins, leaning back against the wall. He clicks his fingers once and his mass of bodyguards all begin to line the perimeter of the waiting room, some leaving and closing the door that leads from the room to the tailor's store. His entire demeanor has also seemed to change now, once professional and amiable to something more conniving and sinister. A knock on the other side of the wall gives the trafficker a signal and Xǔ starts speaking again.

"Ah, I gotcha. This your prize girl then?" He says while taking a moment to crack his neck. Edamura notices that his accent has morphed slightly, now shifting towards Taiwanese Mandarin like Niji. Seems like he was putting on an act for them too.

The Japanese man gives him a beaming grin and closes his eyes. "Her name is Abiha, but she westernized it to Abigail. I just call her Abby. She needs a little discipline here and there because she gets so excited, but I would never damage my goods so harshly. She's as good as I've ever received off in a trade in the Middle East."

"And him?"

Edamura tilts his head and opens his eyes to look over at Kudo, who is playing the part of "scared old man" quite well. He's been a part of three international cons with him in the past, a seasoned professional. The face he’s currently playing would probably keel over and die if Edamura doesn't answer for him. 

A smile graces Edamura's face as he glances back at Kudo. "Him? Oh, he's an old friend from Japan. He's bringing me and my girl over to one of his special spots for food later in Taiwan. A certified Michelin Inspector." 

That seems to catch Xú's immediate attention and he rushes over to Kudo, a wide smirk gracing his features. "Michelin Inspector, you say? I heard the pay ain't too good but if you're available to help another man out with something like food, I'd be good for when I visit Japan next." 

Great topic changer. "Are you interested in food?"

"Of course! As you can see from my stomach," Xǔ says as he points at his stomach, "I can't get enough of it. Ain't that obvious, Abby?" She nods and lays backward into Edamura's lap, giggling softly.

"I have a bit of a proposition then." Xǔ gives Edamura a questioning look and rolls his eyes.

"If it's about food expansion to Europe, no. Been there, tried that. The market ain't open enough in the East to expand to the West without having racial issues pop up everywhere. The people don't want to 'eat dogs, catch a disease, slurp worms' and other bullshit like that. More lucrative to try America or-"

"How about prostitution expansion to Europe?" A beat of silence resonates around the room as Edamura says that and, for a single second, wonders if he’s pushed it too far.

But Xǔ only raises one eyebrow and sighs, stroking his double chin. "Damn, you’re direct as fuck. Now you have my attention. I've tried reaching out but those goddamn Slavs won't let any Asian dealers into their territory! How the fuck did you do it?"

"Social media. I have an influential Instagram with almost 1 million followers, a WeChat and LINE with similar followings, and a whole lot of connections to European businesses in the landlocked countries."

"What's your handle?"

"The Coffeefarian." Xǔ scoffs and pulls out his phone and raises a finger, engrossed in the task of confirming his account. Once he's seen it, Xǔ looks over at the bodyguard on his right who also has his phone out as he nods his head. Xǔ nods his head in approval, smirking evilly. The bodyguard on the right must be his right-hand man who checked the other account, Edamura notices, and he'll have to keep a close eye on him.  

"Well, well, who would have guessed a coffee connoisseur page would be holding such a dark secret." Xǔ claps his hands and lets out a bark of laughter. "Shit, never thought I'd be making a deal today!"

"Well, we don't have to rush this. Haven't even heard what you want from me, of course." Edamura lays back on the couch and rubs Abby's head, feeling her growl annoyingly (which must look like a purr of enjoyment in Xu’s eyes) at the gesture.

Xǔ nods at the comment. "True. How did you know I would be here, anyway, Makoto…"

"Sasaki." Better to think up a fake name now that he's been in the jail system. Edamura hopes he won't do too much snooping, even though he has Laurent, who asked some programmer con-artists to create digital footprints over the years tied to his profile with that surname. "And to be quite honest, I was hoping to meet you at a better time! I just came here because I ordered a suit to match my darling Abby! Her dress is just the cutest and we were hoping to see how it'd match in person."

All of a sudden, Xǔ slams on the wall of the tailor's shop and startles all three of the con-artists. "Hey! Tsai! You got a suit for a Makoto Sasaki in there?"

An elderly voice croaks out through the cracks in the wall. "Yes, I do. One moment and I'll bring it out... "

The larger Taiwanese man looks back at Edamura and grins. "He's been my tailor for the past 30 years. You'll definitely love it."

Edamura is greeted by a frail man named Tsai who's glasses have to be as thick as a deck of cards who dresses him in his new suit, coupled with a matching pair of black gloves. His suit fits him perfectly and without any adjustments needed, even though he sent his measurements online, and the pink dress shirt compliments the black much more than he expected. Standing next to Abby, he feels a bit embarrassed as Xǔ whistles in appreciation.

"Holy shit, Tsai. That looks incredible. I hope that ain’t a one-time use because it looks nice.”

“Oh, I plan to get a lot of use out of this one. I’m going to use it tonight and probably when I attend a gala in a few weeks,” Edamura notes as he pulls on his black gloves, taking care to slowly fit his fingers in their correct holes. “Would you like to attend? I’m sure you’re a busy man, but it will be a food gala. It's gonna be my first time, but my connection said that it’s something that would be “sensually spectacular”. Piqued my interest, if I’m not gonna lie.”

Line.

Xǔ rubs his hands and narrows his eyes suspiciously. “A gala? Where? Why haven’t I heard anything about it?”

Makoto shrugs his shoulders and stands back to hold Abby’s shoulders, gloved hands rubbing them possessively when, really, he is rubbing them nervously. He needs to direct this suspicion elsewhere. “I don’t know why they might have not invited you. It might have just been the last minute, but honestly, I think it’s because they plan to sell some… products at the same time. It was set up by one of my European investors outside of Taiwan, so I’m sorry if you hadn’t heard it yet.”

It was definitely the right call. “Damn fucking Euros! Those pieces of shit don’t know the power of the Taiwanese trade! Give me the fucking address, Sasaki. I’ll get them to notice us Asians!” 

And sinker.

Edamura had just reeled in the Xǔ to his plan with little effort. It was surprising how naive Xǔ actually was. But as they shake hands and begin to part ways, Xu’s bodyguard whispers in his ear and he smiles, pulling out his phone.

“Sasaki, I’m gonna need your inspector friend’s phone number. I don’t have time to search all over the place for good spots to eat, so if I can pick at his brain every now and then for restaurants, it’d be good.” 

Edamura and Kudo both look at each other once, clearly knowing what was going on underneath the guise. They wanted Kudo’s phone number so that if things turn out to be not what they seem, they could use the old man as leverage since his texts are able to be tracked through GPS. Xu’s bodyguard probably reminded him of that possibility, which confirmed to Edamura that he needed to keep an eye on the true brains. 

Good thing they were always a few steps ahead. Kudo graciously gives his phone number from his burner phone to the Taiwanese trafficker, as does Edamura, and bids them farewell as they walk out of the store onto the street. Once they are a safe few blocks away from the tailor’s, checked themselves for recording bugs, and determined that the streets are fairly clear, Edamura clutches his chest like an old woman clutching her pearls.

“Jesus, I haven’t done that in so long! See, this is why I retired to do the coffee life.”

“Then why did you unretire, you stupid virgin? Just to help some random woman? Simp.”

“Edamura-san has a big heart. We all remember France, don’t we?” Kudo reminisces as he rummages around for his actual phone inside of Abby’s purse to find the chicken shop he hyped up earlier. Abby crosses her arms and scowls at her “owner”.

“You know, you make a really bad first impression as a slave owner.” She mutters as her heels clack against the concrete sidewalk.

Edamura’s eyes bug out when she calls him out. “What? I didn’t know you were gonna comment on his weight! What else was I supposed to do then? I’m supposed to be playing a ‘bad guy’ as well. You did great on your part too, Abby. Very cute and believable.” Edamura turns to smile at Abby but tilts his head when he sees her slightly turned away from him, not showing her face.

“Thanks, amateur.” Edamura decidedly believes he touched a nerve and drops the conversation from there. They reach the chicken shop and just as the male worker hands them their order, a text from Laurent pops on his phone. He takes a bite of the juicy, crunchy piece of fried chicken in front of him and scrolls to read it.

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

Kudo just sent me a photo of his chicken, so I assume first contact went off without a hitch?

[From: Edamame]

Yeah, we got in and got him to bite. We have his phone number too on Kudo’s burner.

One of his bodyguards is really smart though, unlike Xǔ himself. Any info?

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

Oh, that’s probably Zhìhóng Gao. He’s been working with Xǔ for the last 5 years. One of his most efficient men. He’s definitely gonna be suspicious of an event in their city they’ve never heard of.

Ah shit. Edamura completely forgot during the con that he was supposed to keep the entire thing local. Scratching his head, he sends out another text, taking a bit longer than necessary.

[From: Edamame]

Well, you see… it’s probably not going to be in Taiwan anymore. I mentioned how it’s put together by European people outside of Taiwan and now we’re going to have to find a venue somewhere in Europe or maybe even another continent.

I apologize for that :(

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

Edamame, I swear you manage to surprise me time and time again. Good thing I kept off of booking a venue. I had a feeling something like this might occur.

Well, my little soybean, I guess we’ll have to choose a spot that would be believable. We’ll discuss this when you get back. Stay safe.

Edamura sighs as he places his phone on the table and groans at the slight mistake he made, knowing it’s going to cause him more stress in the future. Abby looks over at him and shrugs as she takes another bite of her deliciously hot chicken.

 Overnight, the team tries to rearrange their plans to accommodate the slip-up Edamura made. He decides to call Xǔ and tell him that they would be going to a gala outside of Europe, his excuse being that the Europeans might get raided by secret police in their own countries and it would be easier to set up private deals outside of the jurisdiction of their law system. He was surprisingly easy to convince and asked for more details over some food. The only problem was finding a country that might be good to use for a gala now.

“South America? Do you want to use Brazil?”

“We don’t have many experienced con-artists in Brazil at the moment. The ones I know would be good are currently spread thin in other countries like Guyana and Venezuela.”

“How about Canada?”

“I might have some colleagues up there in Calgary, let me check real quick…” As Laurent pulls out his phone and dials a number, Edamura turns to Cynthia, who is typing on a computer keyboard quickly.

“Any other places we might be able to bring the con over to?” He asks as he himself tries to plan out the next few weeks. He’s gone through two pieces of lead in his mechanical pencil from writing so many details out.

“I just found the perfect place, actually. I was thinking about Cape Town, South Africa.” 

Edamura tilts his head as he vaguely remembers his visit there a couple of years back and the delicious citrus coffee he tried there. It was also important for another reason, but he couldn’t remember why.

“I believe you and Laurent went there together, too,” Cynthia remarks offhandedly as she scrolls through her latest findings.

When she says that, the memories of Laurent in the grapevine come barreling back into his mind and he has to grip his hands tight to keep from gasping from the whiplash of it all, which causes him to break his current piece of lead. Of fucking course it would have to be there. The place where the blonde idiot and him defiling his innocence became a tradition on these types of trips. He vowed to only go back there by himself and not with the French man and he was keeping it that way, con be damned.

Edamura sets a stubborn pout upon his face. “Nope, not happening. Uh-uh.”

Cynthia raises her eyebrows curiously and looks like she wants to probe further to see why he is having this reaction when Laurent taps his phone to end his call. He has a relaxed grin on his face, but Edamura has been in enough situations with the man to tell that the smile does not have any good news attached to it. At least, for Edamura.

“What’s the news about Canada, Laurent?” Edamura asks with the slightest bit of hope.

“No can do, Edamame. They are in the thicket of their own con and can’t afford to give their time to us as well. Now what was this I heard about Cape Town? I have very, very fond memories of the place.” As Laurent switches his intense gaze to Edamura, the Japanese man can see Cynthia slowly piece why he didn’t want to go back there. He prays she has sympathy for him and won’t go through with it.

“Well, Laurent, Cape Town is the capital of South Africa and some shady relations with European countries is plausible enough. Plus, we have quite a few retired European con-artists living in that region of Africa since it’s a nice spot to get a vacation home. I’ve contacted some of them already and they are more than willing to come back into the job to fulfill favors to me and Laurent.” Cynthia states with a gaudy smirk on her lips. She’s going through with it, Edamura thinks to himself, and he absolutely loathes her for it. 

Edamura doesn’t want to admit it, but the city is sounding more and more appealing as Cynthia speaks on. He would be more than happy to go back to South Africa and drink more of their coffee and gain some well deserved cash through conning Xǔ. But he is reminded of why he wants to experience it alone when he checks back on Laurent, who is currently smiling and nodding at all the things Cynthia is repeating like an excited puppy.

“I’d love to go back! What more to make the place better than performing a con there on a sex trafficker?” Laurent’s blue eyes grow a shade darker as he wraps an arm around Edamura’s shoulder, grinning quite salaciously at the coffee critic. “Edamura, I think there would be some poetic justice if we go do the con in Cape Town.”

“What poetic justice are you referring to? The one where you took time off for the first time to try and seduce me? I think that would be more ‘triggering’ than ‘poetic’, Laurent.” Edamura gingerly lifts the arm off his shoulder, where it instead wraps around his waist. A warm bubbling sensation begins in his stomach at the affectionate hold, but he ignores it. He turns to the other three con-artists in the room and gives them a questioning glance.

“Are you all fine with Cape Town?” 

Shi-Won and Abby both give him a thumbs-up as Abby curses when the Korean woman places down her cards. “Read them and weep, Abby. Four of a kind, aces.”

Edamura gets up when he hears the call as he looks over at their poker table. He whistles when he sees the hand at play. A nice set of cards greet him, a four of a kind composed of aces, and to top it off is a queen of hearts as the remaining card. He looks over at Abby’s hand and almost bursts out laughing when he finds out its two pairs of nines and fives, with a three as the remaining card. He can see Abby’s irritation at being beaten brutally and hears Kudo congratulating Shi-Won on her overwhelming win.

“Now that you’ve asserted your dominance, are you guys ready to get this city packed up? I plan to leave this town probably in a month with Abby and Kudo, get some good connections with Xǔ in.” 

“I’m going back to London tomorrow. Kawin keeps calling me to show me his artwork and I miss seeing it in person. I definitely need a bit of a break after all this planning. I'm off to sleep then.” Cynthia shrugs on her jacket and begins to walk towards the door.

“I’ll be leaving tomorrow too, Edamame. I still have my diplomacy job to attend to. I’ll be in my room if you want to visit.” Just as Laurent says this and Edamura pretends to hurl, Cynthia turns around and points a finger in the air.

“Oh! I almost forgot. What are we going to do about our client? She’s supposed to do something here, right?”

There is a moment wherein some movies, the record scratches, the music pauses, and the entire scene stops. This is what Edamura is currently feeling. He had completely forgotten about Xiangxiang and how she was going to fit into the plan, but now that they were leaving the country, it would all be done without her role in it. But Edamura was not someone who would go back on his word.

“Yeah, that’s true! She’ll be helping us, she’s coming over this Friday to discuss food options for the gala. We can still have her do that.” He smiles back at Cynthia, his previous anxiety melting away.

“Friday? Edamame, you must really not want me to meet this Xiangxiang! Arranging for them to meet you the day after I leave, I must admit I feel a bit jealous. Who is this beautiful woman who has captivated our young con-artist?” Laurent teases him as he stands behind him, both arms wrapped around Edamura’s frame. The younger man could smell the intoxicating cologne and natural scent of the French man and has to make a conscious effort not to inhale too deeply.

“None of your business, now that we’re going out of the continent. She’ll continue to live free from your predatory ways.” Edamura snaps back at the French/Belgian/asshole-ish man.

Laurent pouts and nuzzles into the younger man’s neck, who yelps at the light kisses the blonde man places on his neck and near his ear. The others in the room ignore the two as Edamura is pulled into the bedroom once more, his lips being taken once more by the alluring white man.

Edamura wakes up and finds himself snuggled up next to something warm. Something breathing. He turns his head slightly and groans when he catches sight of Laurent sleeping next to him, arms wrapped around him, and spooning his smaller body. He reaches over to push away the older man when he notices that both he and Laurent are shirtless. No way did he…

The previous night comes crashing back to him. After Laurent finished kissing him senseless, the older man washed up and walked back to his bed.

“Time for bed, Edamame.”

“I’d rather pull my eyes out than sleep in the same bed as you. You’re not even wearing any clothes!” Edamura snaps back at the nude man. He had gotten used to seeing the con-artist naked after having spent many nights wrapped up in his sexual escapades. Looking at the excessive cock in front of him still gave him a warm feeling in his gut and he hoped(?) that he would not have to ever take it, lest he perishes from being split open, split apart, torn in half. The list is endless.

“Don’t be so rude, Edamame! I just want to see your sleeping face again…” Laurent pouts at Edamura as he says this and strolls up to the bed, pushing his boundaries like a persistent cat. Or roach, whichever one was the more disgusting.

“You were creepy five years ago and you’re still creepy now, old man. I’m going to bed. Get out.” Edamura finishes his statement by pulling the sheets over his head, blocking the sight of the blonde man out of his vision. As they say, out of sight, out of mind.

Or it would have been if Laurent didn’t decide to wrap himself around the Japanese man in his blanket. The younger man squawks when he feels something large press itself against him, the body behind him settling into the curve of his back. Kisses begin pressing themselves against the sheet onto his head.

Edamura blushes hard when he realizes that the only thing protecting him from the soft press of Laurent’s lips is the thin bedsheet provided by the hotel. The last thing he remembers before he falls asleep is the blanket coming out from above his head and Laurent smiling down at him, almost lovingly…

Edamura groans as he turns his body around to fully face the blonde man in front of him. He can’t stand the way his relaxed face makes him look so much more innocent than his shitty personality lets on. He doesn’t like how the man in front of him is so full of confidence that it radiates even when they aren’t conning someone. He can seduce anyone he wants to, so why is he so fixated on a man like Edamura, who only wants to travel the world and have his own coffee shop? He should find someone who can match his incredibly annoying personality and ideals.

He doesn’t mention this as Laurent wakes up and sees Edamura glaring at him, which he decides to respond with a languid kiss to his lips and a whisper of ‘Good morning, mon beau’. There is no point in stopping him as the older man ruffles his hair and makes him a cup of coffee using his grinder and pour-over cup just the way he likes it. Maybe a slight butterfly goes through his stomach as he receives a warm hug and kiss to the cheek from the gentleman as he brings Cynthia and Laurent to the airport. But that’s it, he’s not in over his head.

The next few days pass without any worry, except for Edamura calling Xiangxiang and updating her on their current relocation. She sounds extremely sad that she won’t be able to be a part of the con just yet until Edamura mentions that she’ll still be able to come over to discuss the food details of the con. She reengages her excitement quite profoundly, so much that a woman right next to her begins fretting over Xiangxiang’s blood pressure. He assumes that other woman to be Niji.

Edamura waits at the dining table going over documents for the plan Friday night when his phone starts ringing. It’s not the sound of a normal call too. Looking down at his phone, he sees a familiar name pop up.

[VIDEO CALL FROM: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

He picks up the call.

“Hello?” He holds the camera near his face and sees Laurent’s staring right back at his, a wink settled into his features.

“Hello there, soybean. I’m just calling to check on you, because if I’m not mistaken…”

‘No, the client is not here yet and you won’t get to meet them. I didn’t think it was possible for you to wake up this early. Isn’t it about 5 AM in Washington, DC?”

“The day starts early for us politicians, my dear Edamame. I am always awake by 4:30 AM on the dot for my daily work.” Before Edamura can elaborate further on the semantics of a diplomat’s work, there’s a call from the phone connected to the hotel’s kitchenette. He pauses the conversation with Laurent before he can ask anything more.

“Hello?” He answers the phone, already guessing who’s here to meet him.

“Hello there, sir. Two women are here to see you. Shall I allow them up to your suite?” Edamura smiles as he hears that Xiangxiang has arrived, as well as Niji.

“That would be amazing, please let them up.” Once he hangs up his phone, he goes back to his seat and unpauses the video on his phone to see Laurent had balanced his phone in a way so he could see him dressing for the day. Very slowly, if he might add, seeing as how the tall man was still putting on his shirt and the younger man could very clearly see the form-fitted underwear the Belgian man was showing off.

“You know, this is why I won’t show you off to the client if you plan on using our video call as your intro as a cam boy.” Edamura snickers as Laurent’s face snaps back to the screen and he can catch a faint blush forming on the white man’s face, contrasting the horny smirk on his lips. 

“Only for you.”

“I have to go now, please don’t call me for the next hour.” Edamura doesn’t allow himself to look at the con-artist’s affronted face as he hangs up the call at the exact moment the doorbell rings.  He brushes himself off and goes toward the door before taking a quick breath. One breath, two breaths, then he opens the door.

Xiangxiang and Niji are both standing outside the door, arms full of groceries. Xiangxiang has a wide smile going for her as she bounds into the suite, places the groceries on the table, and does a 360-degree spin around the room. Niji blushes at Edamura and pushes her long hair behind her ear before squeezing past him and walking in.

“Holy. Shit! Oh my god, is this just one room inside of your suite? I can’t believe people actually stay here by themselves! So much space to lounge around!” Xiangxiang does a little jump clap and directs her attention to Niji, who is also standing in the middle of the room in awe. “Niji, can you believe this?”

“Not really, Xiang. People really are living the high life, after all.” Niji says as she turns her attention to Edamura and smiles at him apologetically. “Sorry for bringing over so much food. We brought it so we could cook for you and ask for your opinion!”

Edamura nods and flourishes his hand to the kitchen. “Don’t be sorry, I’m excited to taste your food! The kitchen is all yours.”

Niji nods shyly and begins setting up her own place around the kitchenette. Edamura is about to help her out when a hand tugs on his wrist. He turns towards Xiangxiang and sees her smirking playfully. Her blue eyes are wide with curiosity and intrigue.

“Could you give me a tour of this place? This totally looks like a room I could get lost in.”

Edamura nods at her request, grinning at her enthusiasm. “Sure thing, let me just show Niji where the pans, knives, and cutting boards are.”

“Don’t worry! I found them. Go let her explore or else she’ll be restless all night.” Already tying her hair in a ponytail, Niji waves them off from the kitchen where she looks entirely focused, already slicing into some carrots. 

Edamura nods and begins to show Xiangxiang around the rather large suite, which includes two bathrooms, a dedicated bar area, and a tiny theater room. Fascinated by everything, the umber-skinned woman asks if she can use the restroom once she sees the free toiletries on the counter and Edamura allows her to, letting her know that he’ll be back to get her once he checks in on Niji.

As he walks back to the kitchen area, Edamura sees Niji has stopped prepping the food and started talking on her phone. She seems to be in a video call with someone and her face is getting redder by the second. He’s about to call out to her when he notices his phone is not on the table anymore. Confused, he checks his pocket for his phone when he realizes something very familiar about the phone in Niji’s hand. It has the same exact case as his phone and the voice coming from his phone has an irritatingly similar accent to someone he knows. 

Oh shit.

Edamura’s eyes pop wide open and he dashes toward Niji, who hadn’t noticed him before. She shrieks and throws the phone at him, apologizing over and over in Mandarin. The Japanese man groans exhaustively and looks down at his screen, hoping it isn’t who he thinks it is.

His heart drops when he sees Laurent smirking back up at him, sleepy blue eyes narrowed in a way that can be interpreted as seductive. He has his morning suit on and is running his hands through his hair, trying to keep it in place. His smile on his face, however, seems to be a bit forced, as if he stubbed his toe on something. 

I hope he did, Edamura thinks to himself. The Japanese man glares hard at the screen.

“You fucking ASSHOLE! Didn’t I tell you not to call me? Do you ever listen?”

“I would have, Edamura, but I forgot to mention that I needed to call you about some important documents in buying the Cape Town venue. But it seems I’ve already gotten to meet our client.” 

What? Laurent never calls him by his actual last name, even when they have other guests over. Plus, he almost sounds annoyed when he mentions the client, who he hasn’t even met. Edamura looks up from the phone at Niji, who is blushing wildly, back down to his phone, and back up before he pieces something together. Laurent thinks Niji is Xiangxiang and is angry at her for some unknown reason. Edamura wants to slap his forehead from the misunderstanding but Laurent keeps steamrolling over what he wants to say before he can even formulate a response.

“She is a rather cute woman, kinda charming too. No wonder you kept her a secret from me. Guess I’ll contact you another time for them, Edamame. Adiós [Goodbye] for now!” And just like that, Laurent smiles at him as if nothing ever happened and turns off the call, leaving the two of them standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. 

Niji is the first one to speak up, voice a bit shaky. “I a-apologize, Mr. Edamura! I just saw your phone ringing and I picked it up because I saw the name on the phone was in English and one of your contacts so I was just going to mention how you were away! The man on the phone kept speaking to me though in English, which I can't speak, and then in Mandarin. He called me pretty and a ‘steal’, but his blue eyes were so cold! I tried to explain to him what you were doing but his glare felt like it was going to kill me through the phone, I couldn’t get my words out. It was only when you walked in that he asked me for my name, but you took the phone from me! Who is he?!?”

Edamura sighs and looks down at the phone again, dread building in his gut. Now he has a woman in front of him on the verge of crying, an annoying French asshole who thinks one of the women he’s hosting is the client (which Niji is NOT), and a meeting with Xǔ in three days to fret over. He takes another deep breath and smiles at Niji, whose hands are trembling.

“Don’t worry, Niji,” Edamura says calmly. “He’s someone who’s going to help us out during our mission. He just thinks you’re Xiangxiang since you weren’t able to get a word in. I’ll clear it up with him after you leave. The only way to get through that man’s thick skull is by talking it out face-to-face.”

Niji nods slowly and claps her hands together loudly, stopping them from shaking. She walks over to the vegetables, takes a deep breath, and begins chopping them methodically. After a minute or so, her mood becomes calmer as she preps more food. Edamura is even able to help her out a bit by handing her the correct ingredients before Xiangxiang walks back into the room, a plastic bag bulging with items in her hands. Edamura was wondering where she went off to, but he guessed that she had just been snooping around the other bathroom.

“Niji, look at what I got! This hotel's conditioners are more expensive than a meal at RAW!” Inside her bag is the entire room’s toiletries, including small towels and rolls of toilet paper. Edamura is unsure if she is allowed to take the toilet paper or not, but once he sees that they are the luxury type (colored and scented lavender), he decides that he’ll have to take some for himself. “I’m ready to get this party started! Gimme the cutting board, Niji!”

Xiangxiang puts down her bag and gets behind the counter to start prepping when Edamura hears the front door click from a room key and open once more. He hears someone’s voice come down from the hallway and sighs a breath of relief at who it is. She’ll be able to help him out somewhat with planning food for the con, seeing as how she’ll be serving it.

“-so Makoto, I hope they’re here now. It was so hot earlier when I went on a shopping trip with Abby and Kudo will be here shortly, so I’m available to help out however I can. Leave it to good ol’ Shi-Won!” The Korean woman boasts as she walks down the hall wearing a new scarlet summer dress and holding a box that looks like it’s harboring a fat cake. Edamura walks out and grabs the cake from her hands, bringing it to the table.

“You didn’t have to bring a whole cake! There are only two others with us right now!”

“Doesn’t mean we can’t have nice things, right?” Shi-Won asks as she notices Niji in her peripheral vision. “Oh dear, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Shi-Won Kim.” She waves at her with a waggle of her fingers.

“Shi-Won, this is Niji Ma,” Edamura interrupts as Niji waves her hand and bows her head. Shi-Won smiles back at her gently. “And our client here is-"

“I can introduce myself, don’t worry Edamura!” Xiangxiang's voice rings from behind the counter, bent below trying to look for something, probably an extra cutting board. 

Edamura turns to Shi-Won to see her familiar smile again, but as he looks over at her, the temperature in the room goes icy, despite the heat outside. The atmosphere, which he now can feel pressing on his shoulders, becomes deathly silent. Instead of a smile, he is met with a reaction he never expected. Something entirely unlike someone as composed and professional as she is. 

Shi-Won’s brown eyes, which he had never seen in a way other than closed with a soft grin, are wide open in a stupor with her expression slightly dazed. Her mouth hangs slightly agape and, from the looks of it, her balance is unsteady as she looks like she’s one second away from either being sick or having a mental breakdown. Foreign tears begin to escape her eyes and Edamura knows then that something is very, very wrong. He begins to rush towards Shi-Won to ask her what’s the issue but before he can take a single step, Xiangxiang pushes herself up to lean on the counter and happily begins her introduction.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you! I’m Xiangxiang Guāng.”

Shi-Won then chokes out a single word with a horrified sob that only Edamura is able to make out. One that stops the movement in his limbs and his blood altogether. One that causes the cold shivers in his head to vibrate violently, nonstop. One that should be impossible to even utter because that woman is long dead.

“D-Dorothy…”

Chapter Text

He can taste the mint mouthwash he used an hour ago again. 

He can smell the scent of burning ginger again. 

His vision is coming back into focus on the countertop full of vegetables. 

He can even flex his fingers now after the treacherously long seconds they were frozen. His four senses seem to still be functional, yet...

The only thing that hasn’t come back is sound.

The sound of the air conditioner humming in the corner of the room is muffled and the cold it brings only helps to spread the icy sensation in his throat, his lungs, and his diaphragm. He can barely make out Niji frantically trying to calm down Shi-Won, who is sobbing against the wall. With despair or overwhelmed with joy, Edamura cannot for the life of himself care. All that is ringing in his ears is the sound of someone’s name. Xiangxiang- no, Dorothy’s name.

The woman who is standing at the countertop, her smile slightly diminished and confused at the Korean woman’s theatrics. In her perspective, it could be seen as dramatic, almost pitiful sobbing, since she knew no context about it. As if she knew no context about it.

The fist that Edamura didn’t know he was making lifts above his head and smashes down into the table. The sound barely breaks past Shi-Won’s sobs but Niji and Xiang-Dorothy (which he now decides to call her) both whip their heads to the sound of the next loudest noise. 

He can feel the pain from the softer part of his hand start to travel up his arm but Edamura does not care. It feels like he’s floating across the ground with the way he approaches Xiang-Dorothy, grabbing her by the throat and slamming her against the refrigerator. Xiang-Dorothy’s face is contorted now in panic and terror, but does Edamura give one shit about that? Hell no.

“You… you ruined my LIIIIIIIFE!” Edamura cannot hear his own voice but he can feel the destruction of his vocal cords as he bellows out at the woman pinned to the cold door. “You think this is a goddamn joke? Huh? You made my life a living HELL for the past decade. You “die” and suddenly everyone has to save you. But where does that leave me and my mom? She also DIED and my dad wasn’t there to comfort her because he had to avenge YOU! Someone who he didn’t even know was ALIVE! I busted my ass trying to live life quietly meanwhile and all it got me was rejection and bias against something I had no say in. And here you are alive again, asking us to con someone for you. Want to relive the good old days? You think I’m a fucking IDIOT!?” The same fist he had been clenching slams into the metal refrigerator, making Xiang-Dorothy flinch and scream out something unintelligible, tears now streaming down her cheeks. 

Edamura does not know where this rage is coming from, but he knows it has been a long time coming. Something bubbling, cooking under his snarky facade and growing with each hangout with Abby, every wine gossip with Cynthia, every text from Kudo, every shopping trip with Shi-Won, all the trips with Laurent. The thought of the French fool has him barreling through another screamfest.

“I bet you and Laurent are both making each other very happy while I get sidelined as the fucking side hoe of this entire GROUP! Are you trying to get me to fucking lose my marbles or is it “torment the poor little virgin con-artist day”? I bet you’ve had this planned for ages, waiting for me to get all comfortable with everyone before dropping this bomb on me. I’ve done unimaginable things that haunt me to this day. I can’t undo the sins I have committed, all because of your selfish actions. I hate you, I hate you, I hate YOU, I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU!!! AHHHHHHHH!!! ” The fist that Edamura has been abusing raises to the air to once again punch the refrigerator with his roars, but is stopped seconds before by a firm hand. He is frazzled for a moment before he is flung back out of the chokehold he had been restricting Xiang-Dorothy in. 

“EDAMURA-SAN! What the actual fuck has gotten into you!” The Japanese man hears Kudo yell as the older man pulls him by his hair over to the couch. He doesn’t feel the pain in his scalp and uses that to rip himself out of the handhold that Kudo is using to drag him back. A snarl escapes the feral con-artist.

“Don’t fuck with me, old geezer. You did shit for my dad too. I bet you know who the fuck that is on the refrigerator, you traitor!” 

Kudo, who had been staring at Edamura with unmasked disgust now tilts his head confusedly, staring behind at the dark-skinned woman who is massaging her throat and shivering uncontrollably, eyes flickering back between Edamura and a quickly approaching Shi-Won. The apprehension and fear on her face are palpable now that she has been assaulted and only heightens when she is pulled into a tight hug by the bustier woman, soothing circles being rubbed into her back. Niji is also looking at Edamura now with caution, shrinking back when his hardened gaze hits her.

“No, I don’t know either of these women! All I saw and heard when I came into your room was screaming and you trying to choke out the black girl at the refrigerator! My boy, I haven’t seen you this angry since Shanghai.” 

At the word “Shanghai”, Edamura lets out a terrible laugh, grating to the ears like a nail to a chalkboard. “HA! Don’t remind me of that bullshit con. The worst time of my life. But this situation might beat it by a long shot. You wanna know who that is on the floor? It’s Dorothy.” 

Kudo’s eyes widen when he hears the familiar name and he puts his hand to his mouth, then one on Edamura’s shoulder to steady himself. The older gentleman had been on the tail-end of many nights where he had to comfort the younger con-artist whenever his many drinks led him to rant and despondent sobbing at the things he’s had to do over the years. The horrible nightmares that Kudo would hear from one room over and wish that he could erase the memories from the young man. It was no wonder that Edamura acted like that when coming into contact with someone who should be dead, was the catalyst for trashing his entire future, and the previous lover of his complicated relationship with a certain Belgian man. 

But she was alive? How?

“Edamura, take a few breaths. You need to calm down.” Kudo’s eyes scan the room before he focuses on Niji. “Ma’am!”

Niji, who for the life of her can not process what is happening tonight, freezes up at the calling. “Y-Yes? Wh-What I do?” She responded shakily in choppy English. 

She does not speak very good English and hopes this man would not give her instructions to help Mr. Edamura, who seems to be very conflicted at the moment as he stumbles backward onto the couch. He had also choked out her friend and did not want to be on the receiving end of one of those grabs.

“Please help Edamura-san calm down. I think he needs someone to talk to him at the moment and I might not be the one to help with that. He needs someone who is not tied to all this.” Kudo calmly said to her, hoping he got the message across.

All Niji can make out are the words “please help”, “calm”, and “talk”, so she nods and slowly makes her way over to Edamura, who has his hands covering his face. She gingerly sat down next to him.

“Mr. Edamura, are you alright? I, ah-um, well, I saw you with Xiangxiang and I just wanted to make sure you don’t hurt yourself anymore. You hit your hand a lot on the door.” Niji slowly says to the unresponsive man. She looks down at Edamura’s hand and sees it slightly swelling up and bleeding lightly with splinters stuck in the skin. She immediately looks to Kudo with a wide glance.

“Aid! First aid! Need it, him!” She begins pointing at Edamura, where Kudo notices his hand and goes to look for supplies to help him. Once Kudo finds them, he arrives back to see Niji holding a shaken-looking Edamura, whom he guesses had recovered enough to handle someone holding him. Xiang-Dorothy and Shi-Won are both at the table, with Xiang-Dorothy glancing back at Edamura with a worried glance. Her white hair is slightly ruffled and her eyes, usually dark blue with excitement, have dimmed with the darker atmosphere. 

Kudo and Niji set to work fixing up Edamura’s hand. The room is deathly silent aside from Shi-Won’s ugly sobbing at the table. After his hand had been wrapped and iced accordingly, Xiang-Dorothy clears her throat.

“So, I’m guessing you knew me before the amnesia?” 

Edamura’s head snaps up at her and scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Excuse me, did you say amnesia? Or am I in a cliche movie? Please tell me you also developed a superpower you never knew existed while under amnesia.” 

Shi-Won has stopped crying by now and has grown more serious, her hands gripping each other tightly and her red eyes glancing at Xiang-Dorothy and Niji. “I swear, Edamame, this is not a joke.”

Edamura gives the older woman a disbelieving glance, motioning around the room. "Oh, really? Maybe, just maybe I'll believe that, but you know what is a joke? Me believing that this shit isn’t planned. I go to Taiwan, Dorothy appears out of nowhere as the lone foreigner living with Taiwanese parents, asks me to go bust a criminal, and all the meanwhile I am at the center of this mess. Please tell me, Shi-Won, how this isn’t a fucking joke?” Edamura responds as bitterly as possible, not choosing to respect anything that may be evidence that this is yet another con.

“This is not a joke because if this was a con and Dorothy was involved, I’m going to the ends of the Earth to find the motherfucker who kept my daughter away from me for this long. The world doesn’t goddamn revolve around you and your shit luck, kid.” 

Edamura sits shocked for a brief moment at Shi-Won’s cold tone, her jarring words cutting deep into his original sass. He doesn’t let that assuage his anger; if anything it makes him more frustrated because his ‘shit luck’ keeps putting him in these situations. Other people’s situations he doesn’t need to care for, like an old comrade being alive again. If he’s being involved in something big again, he’s going to fucking complain about it.

"Don't act like I'm selfish for having been forcibly involved in your shitty 'drama'. You're just as much of a selfish prick as Laurent and Ozaki for being compliant about shoving me into your goddamn world. So don't try to talk to me about selfishness or luck."

Shi-Won stays silent before sighing once more and cracking her neck into place before continuing, more relaxed in her speech. 

“I'm sorry, Edamura. I’m still processing Dorothy being alive because holy shit, what a day. I guess you should expect surprises like this to occur in this field of work, but at my age, shit like this can kill a lesser bitch.” She shakes her head at her words and lets out a humorless laugh, sizing up Xiang-Dorothy. “But damn, Dorothy, amnesia? I spent ages trying to find you and the entire reason was because of amnesia? Where have you been?”

Xiang-Dorothy, who has been silent for most of this, glances back up at Shi-Won with a guarded look in her eyes. “I don’t know who that is but I am not her anymore. I was found on a beach on Gueishan Island ten years ago by a restaurant owner and his wife. They took me in and I haven’t been contacted by anyone from my past since, especially because I didn’t know what I did before. Although I am getting a small feeling from what Mr. Edamura has said to be true....”

Shi-Won glares at her hard, trying to look for any hints of a lie. “Then why do you still have your ring on your hand? Laurent said that was the only thing he was able to recover from the boat.”

Edamura’s head flips back from whiplash at trying to look at her ring. No wonder it looked so familiar! “Yeah, you are definitely bullshitting us. I knew I remembered it back at the cafe! Why the fuck do you have the ring? He told us he threw it into the ocean.”

“I got this from my papa! He gutted it from a fish 3 years ago, I swear this is just a really, really big coincidence! When he gave it to me, it still had some fish guts on it!” Xiang-Dorothy starts waving her hands innocently. “B-But when he did give it to me, my head hurt and I started thinking back to my crazy dreams.”

“Dreams?” Edamura and Shi-Won both snap their heads at her, a glint of a backstory shining through.

“Yeah, really weird events. Like how I was the co-owner of an Italian football team, selling pearls in Australia, how I was an African princess in Japan-”

Shi-Won cuts off the thoughtful woman. “Dorothy! That was all of our previous cons we did together! When we conned Marino of his illegal gambling winnings, getting Taylor to expose his gem stores, our gig in Shanghai with-” 

At this moment, Shi-Won’s eyes turn glassy and she lets out an angered huff, tears quickly falling down her face. “That’s where we lost you, Dorothy. That’s where your memories may have ended.”

Edamura decides to speak up again. “But it still seems extremely convenient of you to be positioned here in the city, one store over from my recommended coffee shop. I wonder why…”

Everyone comes to the same conclusion at that moment. Someone is puppeteering from the shadows all the events that are occurring. Shi-Won grinds her teeth, Edamura punches the upholstery, Kudo glares at the amnesiac woman, and Xiang-Dorothy stares at the floor in shock and horror at the thought of someone toying with her life.

“Um, Xiangxiang, please stop this prank right now. Y-You’re scaring me with how real this sounds.” Niji’s timid voice cuts through the tension as everyone in the room brings their attention to the one unknown factor of this entire scheme if there was one. “Please, let’s just go back to the neighborhood.”

Xiang-Dorothy spares a glance at Niji with a terrified face and looks her right in her tearful eyes. “I’m sorry, Niji, I’m not pranking anyone. These people… they know me. They know my dreams. They called me a name that, in all honesty, doesn’t sound unfamiliar. I’m so, SO very scared right now, but I have to stay. I have to know more. Like, for instance, who is this ‘Laurent’ that took my ring in the first place? That name sounds so familiar...”

Edamura’s heart seized up, his eyes widening at this information. Did she really not remember Laurent? Her ex-fiance? He finds that a bit hard to believe. 

Before Edamura can question her, Shi-Won is on it immediately. “Honey, you don’t remember your own fiance? You recruited him yourself back in Paris after we conned Hugo.” 

Xiang-Dorothy’s eyes widen to the size of dinner plates and she flies back in her chair, teetering backward on the back two feet. She shakes her head, white hair flitting around as she shakes her head. “W-Wait, hold on just one moment! I have a fiance?!”

“Had,” Shi-Won says with a sad smile. “He seems to have gotten over you a few years ago when we ‘avenged’ your death after our job in Shanghai. He’s moved on, Dorothy.”

Xiang-Dorothy stays still for one moment, hands gripping the table harshly. Edamura could see the pain in her eyes at something she can’t even recall. He would have expected her to have passed out from the information overload by now, but it seems like she’s handling the news better than most doctors would suggest. He can’t imagine the thought of having to realize that her entire previous life was something less than 1% of the world have ever imagined doing and how it had all been dashed from her.

Finally, Xiang-Dorothy holds her head in her hands and lets out a soft mutter. Edamura could barely catch it being so far down the table but he understood the gist of it.

“Is he happier now?”

Shi-Won stifles a small chuckle and turns her attention to the end of the table. 

“Well, you can say he has his eyes on another person at the moment…” 

Edamura then realizes her attention is on him and he blushes wildly. Him?! Even if this bastard Belgian was attracted to him, it was only physically! He may not have been the most sought out teen in his high school, but he knew that he can be charming and courteous when respected (which Laurent never seems to do, only furthering his abuse towards him) and his face wasn’t terrible , per say. He wouldn’t want the French fuck anyhow, no matter how many roses and kisses he was given. There was too much baggage at the moment and unsaid things that may have been directed at Xiang-Dorothy.

Which reminds him…

“Dorothy, uh… wait, which do you prefer? Xiangxiang or Dorothy?” 

“Hmm?” Xiang-Dorothy stares back at Edamura with a slightly perplexed stare and holds her chin in her palm, contemplating deeply. “Well, Dorothy was in the past and, from your heated reaction, she was a whole BITCH so, heh, I guess you can call me Xiangxiang!”

Edamura rubs the back of his head sheepishly. “Y-Yeah, I guess you can say that. That’s actually what I wanted to talk about. So… I am extremely sorry!” Standing up from his chair abruptly, Edamura bows low to Xiang-Dorothy and keeps his head down, arms stiff at his side.

“I apologize for assaulting you! I should never have done that, regardless of how angry I was! It is never right to resort to violence and I made rash decisions because of my emotions. I cannot ask you enough for your forgiveness because what had happened in the past is in the past and you can’t remember anything! I feel so bad-”

“Edamura, stop there.” Xiang-Dorothy’s voice rings out through his rushed apology and Edamura stops. “I think that I need a bit more context of your life story before I can fully ‘allow myself’ to forgive you for asphyxiating me or not. There’s a whole cake here and a ton of gossip to spread! Oh my god, there are so many questions I have now! Was I glamorous? Have I ever jumped out of a plane? Where did I go when I wanted a bit of a getaway?”

“Most definitely, three times in the United States and twice in Switzerland, and French Polynesia.” 

Xiang-Dorothy begins clapping her hands in excitement at Shi-Won’s quick response and all the tension in the room fades away, giving way to a new segment of the evening. The one where Shi-Won began talking about how she first met Dorothy and how she came to become a con-woman, Edamura and his backstory, and Niji meeting Xiangxiang for the first time. All the while, Kudo takes the reins on the cooking and actually comes up with a pretty decent Taiwanese stir-fry and traditional Japanese beef stew with rice.

“And Dorothy was one of the prettiest girls I saw on the road, all smiles and energy with her routine that I was really impressed with the method that she used to try and steal my wallet! After I thoroughly beat her up, she became one of my helpers and stayed with me all the way through.” Shi-Won remarks as she takes a bite of her melon cake.

“So, my mom died. I tried to find work afterward in her honor but who would want to hire someone whose father had trafficked kids? ‘Like father, like son’, they would say. I’m ashamed to say they proved right in the end.” Edamura sighs out as he eats the stir-fry, trying not to make eye contact with anyone in the room.

“So, I met Xiangxiang right when my mother was starting to lose faith in the shop and she came right in and began decorating the place! I remember the look on my mama’s face when Xiangxiang slammed a mallet through the counter, she was about to beat her ass all the way across Taipei!” Niji giggles out tipsily as she nibbles into her 3rd cake slice and 4th glass of wine.

All the while, Edamura notices that Xiang-Dorothy has not said a word. Sure, she has laughed here and there and pouted at some of the comments, but overall she was just absorbing the information. Allowing others to tell her own life because she was still clueless about her true identity. It must have been something that wasn’t normal because Niji suddenly put a hand on her friend’s shoulder.

“Xiangxianggggg, why are you not talking?? I’m trying to tell them about the time you tried to act like a foreigner to that one small crush of mine and he ended up referring you to a voicing agency! You need to do the accent!” Niji started nuzzling into Xiang-Dorothy’s shoulder and murmuring the word “accent” over and over. 

Xiang-Dorothy smiled and pats her friend’s hair. “Okay, Niji! I’ll do it!” 

And even though she did an incredible Irish accent, Edamura could see the internal struggle to stop herself from crying right then and there. He couldn’t know why, but he guessed it right an hour later.

After Niji passes out from her drinking and was burrito-wrapped into a blanket and shipped to a spare bedroom, Xiang-Dorothy lays back on the living room couch. Edamura could see that her face had dropped from being incessantly happy to increasingly morose, tears flowing down her cheeks. He knew he couldn’t comfort her in any way and didn’t know how to. He’d never seen someone so angry at the wall, looking like she wished it would disintegrate.

“Mr. Edamura.” 

Edamura jumped at her sudden exclamation of his name. He sat down on the couch next to her, grabbing his wine glass carefully. 

“...yes, Xiangxiang?”

“You should have done more than throw me against the refrigerator. I certainly would have pulled a knife from the counter in your situation, probably would make them even more scared.” H-Huh? 

“W-Why, Xiangxiang?” Edamura asks as he sips from his glass, trying to distract himself from the increasingly moody woman.

Xiang-Dorothy turns to give him one of her big grins, all forced and twisted with running makeup and tear tracks. “Because apparently, I used to be a terrible person. I conned people, I forced their money into my hands and ran with it. And then I met someone, made them like me. I was about to marry them. But then, then I apparently ‘died’. I died and ended up somewhere else, somewhere far away from all the action. I was happy because I used to be content with the fact that even if I never found out about my old life, I had my mama and papa to work with. We were simple. Did that mean my past world stopped?”

A sob tears through Xiang-Dorothy and she grips her body in a tight hold as if asking for someone to hug her newfound pain away. “NO! It-It didn’t. Because you were still a bystander in it. You had no control over what would happen. And it cost you so much. Your father, your mother, your work, your morals. Everything, all for me. So selfish for someone who can’t even recall the face of her past fiance, ha!”

Edamura couldn’t even come to retaliate against her claims. She did ruin his life, involuntarily. Her death made everyone bloodthirsty for revenge that they forgot about the ones who would be affected in the aftermath. If she hadn’t been caught and killed, Edamura may have become something else, maybe would have had his own coffee shop to look over.

Wiping her face, she continues on her rant. “And now that I am alive, does that mean what you did is essentially worthless? Me living means you went through the worst possible hell all for my memory when I am still here. I mean, I don’t want to die AGAIN from what I’m saying, but look at us!” She gestures to the entire room and its grandeur, which is dampened by the gasping sobs escaping the poor woman in front of him. “You’re back here, conning against your will, doing this for me! Why! WHAT’S SO SPECIAL ABOUT ME?!” She begins laughing into the air, hoping for something spiritual to rain light on the situation and respond.

Nothing does.

Edamura stays silent a bit longer before fiddling with his thumbs. He needs to confirm something before anything more happens.

“Xiangxiang, I’m sorry for what happened tonight. I don’t think I can forgive Dorothy. I will probably never forgive Dorothy. However, I can begin to empathize with you, Xiangxiang. I really don’t want to sound rude with this, but I don’t trust you. At all. I have been tricked before. Hurt a lot by the man who was your previous fiance. He had me do terrible things I’d rather forget forever. I don’t know who put us together, but they have a final purpose for this. And I will tell you now, Xiangxiang, that if those things hurt you, I will feel bad. But if they happen to Dorothy... I won’t feel bad. Please tell me right now, Xiangxiang, are you conning me?”

Xiang-Dorothy looks him right in the eyes as she responds, eyes glimmering with leftover tears and determination. “No. I swear I am not doing anything to hurt you. And I’m sorry that this man made you do such terrible acts.”

Edamura sighs in relief at the genuine answer and nods once as he snorts into the air as he pulls out his phone. “You asked for a photo of him, yes? Here’s one.” 

He decides to show her a photo of Laurent posing with Edamura in front of a church in Barcelona, one where the both of them are showing off their best personalities (meaning, Laurent was being tripped by Edamura down the cathedral steps and the Japanese man almost managed to succeed. The person taking the photo started laughing at the Belgian man skipping around the smaller man’s flailing leg soon afterward.). It was one of his favorite memories, especially because of the… activities that followed afterward. He had purple marks on his thighs for weeks after that.

“This is him. Sir Laurent Thierry the asshole.” Xiang-Dorothy takes a long gaze at the photo, zooming in onto the blonde man who has one of his infuriating smirks on his face despite his near faceplant. She stares harder at the photo before nodding and handing his phone back.

“You two are a cute couple.” 

Sadly, Edamura had decided to take a long swig of wine from his glass at that very moment. His spit take fills the air with alcohol as he begins to cough and dribble liquid onto the couch. Thankfully it wasn’t a white couch.

Xiang-Dorothy’s eyes widen and her face takes on a mischievous grin. “Ohoho, are you not a couple? Well, I wouldn’t blame you. If this man is my ex and the guy who recruited you, not gonna lie, he’s more than an asshole. Kinda obsessed with Dorothy, kinda annoying always calling you ‘Edamame’, kinda a dick for never involving you in anything.”

Edamura, who by now has stopped coughing, throws his hands up to the air and groans out happily. “Thank you! He’s nothing but a pain!”

“Then why haven’t you cut him out?”

“You think I haven’t tried? He’s persistent and has connections to me like the group that I am not willing to get rid of just yet. He’ll always be around as long as I keep associated with these conmen and conwomen.” Because most of them aren’t manipulative shitty French men.

“And your “complicated relationship”, as Shi-Won put it so nice to me?” Edamura glared at Xiang-Dorothy’s cheeky tone, huffing and crossing his arms.

“W-We just, y’know, hang out on trips and do things.”

“Things, huh?” 

Edamura blushes hard. “Yes, things.”

“Where do you do these sort of things, Mr. Edamura?’

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Xiangxiang? That’s my personal business with Laurent.”

Xiang-Dorothy smirks and makes a peace sign at an increasingly flustered Edamura while sticking out her tongue. “Alright, then. One more question!”

“Shoot.”

“Should I tell Laurent?”

“Tell him what?”

“That I’m alive.”

“No.”

The sudden shift in the room’s atmosphere could be felt by the both of them when Shi-Won’s voice cut through their banter. Her arms were crossed across her large chest and she was standing near the door to the bathroom. Her look of disapproval was open for all to see.

“Let me tell you why it’s bad to let Laurent know you are alive. I’ve known him for quite a long time. I know this boy. And he fell OFF when you died. Drinking every day hoping you would return, dragging his ass to random places to hook up with a woman to fill the void in his heart. If he found you to be ALIVE after all this, do you know what would happen? He’d probably snap, mentally. A whole decade of his life wasted because he had to avenge his dead fiance? But news flash, Dorothy: You aren’t dead. And he’ll feel that deep in his gut. Probably to the point of insanity this time.”

“How do you know this, Shi-Won?” Edamura asks the intimidating woman slowly, not really believing her.

“Because I’ve seen this man talk to his reflection in his room. Except it wasn’t himself he was talking to. He was saying Dorothy’s name.” Both Xiang-Dorothy and Edamura glance at each other with surprised fear in their eyes, how her description of Laurent being “kinda obsessed” is something that may have been an understatement.

Xiang-Dorothy made an X with her arms and recreates an incorrect noise. “Yep, let’s definitely not tell him.”

Edamura leans back in his chair. “But he knows who Xiangxiang is. Or at least, who he suspects Xiangxiang is. Niji answered the phone while she was cooking and made Laurent assume that she was Xiangxiang.”

“Perfect! Then we’ll use her as Xiangxiang!”

Both Edamura and Xiang-Dorothy snap their heads to stare confusedly at the elated Korean woman. “What?”

“We’ll use Niji as a placeholder for Xiangxiang! Dorothy wouldn’t ever have to meet him as she can just stay hidden. She probably wouldn’t even have to leave the country to do anything!” 

Edamura groans into his hand. Another thing he has to account for now? It made perfect sense though and helped give a buffer for Laurent’s nosy investigations. Since he “met” Xiangxiang now, he wouldn’t feel as compelled to go into her history files as heavily. But now he’d have to keep in the back of his mind that Niji is Xiangxiang around everyone and to update the girl on their plans.

“Are you sure this will be alright? You know how in-depth he goes for his cons.”

Shi-Won put a finger to her face. “I’ll ask one of my contacts to build a network involved with this Niji girl as Xiangxiang. Dorothy, did you hold any social media networks over the past decade?”

“Nope! No photos of myself online either because my parents were very strict about it, seeing as how I’m not really Taiwanese and people might commit crimes against us because of me in these parts.”

“Perfect, we’ll just use that and include some photos of Niji on there. From there, we will be able to direct all of Laurent’s searches to that specific profile. I’m going to go to sleep now. Kudo left a while ago and I envy the man for getting to sleep easier than me. Oh, Dorothy…” Shi-Won grabs the black woman once more and hugs her close, the air sobering at the intimate gesture. She pulls herself away from the hug, kisses the woman on the forehead, and waves at the two before popping out of the room.

The air becomes awkward again as it is now just the two of them sitting in a filthy living room. 

Xiang-Dorothy clears her throat. “S-So, um, it’s late at night and Niji is passed out in a room here. Is it fine if I stay here for the night?”

Edamura nods once, his politeness shining through. “Of course! Stay here until the morning if you need to.” 

The both of them don’t know what to do to say goodnight, so Edamura extends a stiff arm to the ex-con artist. The white-haired woman takes one surprising look at the hand before busting out laughing. “Oh, m-my god! This is such a mess, I can’t shake your hand after all this, Mr. Edamura.” And with that, she pulls the man into a tight hug.

His brain is telling him to push her away, to get away from this woman, and to run off until he’s not close to her ever again, but he can’t do it. He can feel through the hug how she periodically squeezes tighter as if hoping he would stay if she kept up the pressure. He reluctantly puts his arms around her shoulder and sighs into her hair. “I’m sorry that this happened to you.”

“I’m sorry that I happened to you.”

With that, Edamura waves off Xiang-Dorothy to her room and goes off to his room. He changes his clothes and sets himself up to fall deep into sleep. Except…

He just can’t sleep. Too many things are racing through his mind, all these different plots and circumstances that make no sense. He knows from his intuition that someone is playing him. Someone who he knows is making sure all of these events occurs for some reason. But why always with him? The world doesn’t revolve around Edamura, not by a long shot. But it always seems like he orbits this world of deceit quite often, the unobstructed bright moon to lies and thievery. 

Ideas start formulating in his head who might be the perpetrator of this con. Who could have brought him here? For what purpose? It could be anyone in Team Confidence.

With that uneasy thought, he bundles a bunch of blankets over his head and is sent off to a dreamless sleep.

“Wow, Sasaki, you’ve got one fucking swing!”

The meetings with Xǔ are going spectacularly if Edamura has anything to say about it. He’s kept up with the man’s boisterous attitude and even gotten praised for some of his golf swings despite rarely ever going out to golf. Abby was sitting in the cabby in a skimpy golfing outfit on her phone, looking more bored by the second every time she isn’t able to drive them somewhere (and Edamura had to stop her from taking a detour through the rough and off the cliffside three too many times). Kudo was currently mooching up to Zhìhóng Gao, the bodyguard, as the man’s impassive face was not cracking one bit despite the old man jokes Kudo keeps making at him. 

They’ve been able to meet up thrice with the boba trafficker over the month and each time, Xǔ just seemed to get more and more comfortable. It didn’t seem like it at first, but the man was starved for some friends. He had business contacts and dealers to oversee and that didn’t leave much room for him to interact normally with fellow criminals his age. It would be a bit sad if it wasn’t for the fact that his morals reserved for criminals were near nonexistent for the people he sold. 

The older Taiwanese man shoves his beer can at Zhìhóng and rolls up his sleeves. “Bet $50 I can get this on par.”

Edamura was never one for gambling, but this one was too good to pass up. “Okay. $200 for a birdie and $500 for an eagle.” 

 Xǔ whistles low and lets a feral grin cross his face. “I’ll keep you to that on your turn, too, then.” And then he swung.

After the long 18 holes, Edamura is up by $250 and Xǔ was grumbling to himself, but not too mad at the day. Before they left, Xǔ pulled Edamura over to the side.

“Okay, so we’re going to Cape Town, South Africa? Sounds good. My bodyguard seems to believe the entire thing is pretty legit from our sources, so we’ll go down there and fuck shit up. Got it, Sasaki? We’re gonna make these Euros believe they made the wrong assumptions about our countries.”

Edamura gives the man his own sinister grin and slaps Xǔ on the back. “I’m with you on that. I’m ready to do business and do it right.”

Xǔ nods and walks up to Abby, hugging her tightly. “Bye, bye, Abby! I hope to see you in Cape Town in a week. You’re such a good girl!” 

Abby smiles up at him when he yells this and lets out a small squeal of happiness. “Yay! I can’t wait! See you then, Mr. Xu!” And when she lets go of the man, Edamura could make out the imperceivable vein at the base of her neck twitch uncontrollably, probably from bloodlust. Ah, she’s gonna go off in the car later.

Kudo and the bodyguard are still playing their manzai bit, with Kudo being the boke and Zhìhóng being the tsukkomi. Edamura almost lets out a laugh at Kudo’s purposeful idiocy as he has never seen the man act so foolishly in his entire time knowing him. Zhìhóng seems to be keeping his answers brief, but the flash of a smile underlies his professionalism. 

The two of them are bad people, Edamura has to remind himself. The smiles and jokes being played are usually not meant for normal people, only others who ruin other people’s lives. It only becomes more palatable when as they are leaving, Xǔ barks out a laugh.

“Shit, Sasaki, you see those ball women over there? Oh man, I’m only here to play some golf but I’d definitely catch them if I had time. Shit, they’d be such good sex slaves…”

“Sir, would you like me to contact someone to apprehend them? I can make it work.” 

Edamura’s blood runs cold at the two’s casual conversation of kidnapping and selling these innocent bystanders. They’ve probably done it in the past too when Edamura wasn’t around to play around on the green. His eyes flash slightly before he gets back into a groove.

“I can see it, definitely! Her thighs look like they can crush my head, too.” As the five of them walk off to their respective cars, Edamura sends a look to Kudo and Abby and while they don’t react outwardly, they understand. The game is on.

All three of the con-artists are driving back in the same car to the hotel when Edamura gets a text from Laurent. He opens it.

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

Edamame, call me in a secure location when you are available.

Edamura dialed the number after confirming with Kudo and Abby of no audio bugs in the car and was immediately greeted by an annoying coo of excitement.

“Aw, Edamame, did you miss me that much? You called so quickly.”

“You told me to call you in a secure location. I’m doing just that, you asshole.” 

“Oh, but you just know how much I love the build-up whenever you send me back one of your cute texts. It leaves me aching for more.” Ignoring the increasingly suggestive comments from the Belgian bitch, Edamura is able to not blush and keep himself in con mode.

“My head is aching because you keep talking nonsense and not telling me why you needed to call. I just got done with my golf session with Xǔ. We’re heading into phase two of the con now.”

Edamura can’t see but he can hear movement which may be Laurent nodding his head up and down. “Good, good. I came to call about just that. I’ve sent you the reservations for the hotel rooms and the blueprints of the building we’ll be hosting the gala in. Oh, and I got a very special room for the two of you.”

“The two of you? Who?” Edamura asks distractedly as he passes by a rice paddy. He can see the people planting the rice in the ground for autumn. 

“Why, you and Xiangxiang, of course.”

The world stops for a moment in Edamura’s eyes. He suddenly sits straight up and yells in the car, alerting both Kudo and Abby in a split second. “What do you mean, me and Xiangxiang?! She’s our clientele, why would you buy a room for us to share?”

“Hmm?” Laurent sounds amused but confused, humming softly on the other end of the phone. “Well, sweet Edamame, all I can say is that I approve of your tastes. I assume she’d want to be around to witness the plan go off without a hitch. You did say she tried to fight one of his lackeys, yes? That takes guts. All the better to see the top lackey get absolutely humiliated.” 

“But she’s got a shop to run with her mom and dad! They need her to help them!”

“It’ll only be for a week and I’ll pay them for the entire time that she’s off. Do you not want me to meet her in person? I didn’t expect you to be so possessive, Edamame.” Laurent’s words only further Edamura’s troubles, trying desperately to not involve Niji in this in any way possible. “I could drop by to Taipei for a day or two to try and convince her-”

“NO! No, it’s fine! I’ll bring her, goddamnit! Just promise not to annoy or harm her in any way!” Edamura shakes his head with a sinking feeling in his gut. 

The more that Laurent comes to visit Taipei, the higher the chance of him meeting Xiang-Dorothy is and the more likely he’ll snap and probably never be able to complete the con. A resigned and pitiful sigh leaves the Japanese man’s body. He didn’t want this to happen and now he’ll have to watch over the French-speaking freak and his probable seduction of “Xiang-Niji”.

“Oh, okay then. Edamame, I hope to see you soon. See you soon, mon chéri!” And with that, the call clicks off.

Edamura groans and fell backward onto the seat. Kudo keeps driving while keeping a worried look on his face while Abby is frowning from being woken up. She’s taken off her outfit and now is wearing a hoodie and short jeans.

“Oi, pay-per-virgin, was that Idiot #1 doing something idiotic?” Edamura takes a glance over at Abby as she says this and nods.

“Uh-huh. Guess Niji is coming with us to Cape Town.”

Abby lets out a grunt of affirmation. “Guess that means Dorothy will be the only one left in Taiwan.” She found out from Edamura that Dorothy was alive the day after. She didn’t seem too shocked, acting blase as usual. She did seem surprised when Kudo told her how he found Edamura with his fist raised and Xiang-Dorothy crying but said it made sense afterward.

“Yeah… I have to break the news to them somehow.”

Fortunately, the breaking of the news came pretty quickly and without much drama. Despite Niji near fainting at the trio when they walked into her shop and her panicked shouts at so many people being inside the store that have broken multiple laws (“Oh, god, if they find out that you’re using my shop as a base they’ll have my store shut down! Eep!”), she seemed to be very calm about the change of events.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Edamura. It doesn’t seem like he wants me to be there for anything other than watching the other suffer, but Xiangxiang and I have already thought about this possibility. She’s willing to stay here in Taipei till the end.”

Edamura just sat back in relief at the reaction. Now that he’s gotten that done with, he’ll have to connect back with a few of his contacts. Maybe check out the vineyards again, go check on the hotel and how Sithembele is doing (which seems to be fine, seeing as he had texted him just a week ago saying how he got promoted somewhere), maybe get a cup of coffee again from Estia. They’d be great for providing him good info on the city too. 

It was all coming together.

ONE WEEK LATER, AT AN AIRPORT IN LONDON, ENGLAND

[From: Edamame]

Laurent, we just landed in Cape Town. We’ll be on the way to the hotel.

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

Good to hear. I’m just about to board my flight with Cynthia from Heathrow. Can’t wait to see you XOXO.

As Laurent pockets his phone, he feels a shiver run up his spine. It’s like something was behind him… Using a quick step, he spins around and comes face-to-face with Cynthia who is smirking at him quite smugly.

“Expecting someone, Thierry?”

The blonde man took a second to look at her up and down then let a seductive smirk grace his features. “Just you and your stunning features as always, Cynthia.”

“Flirt all you want, old man, because once you get to South Africa I can see you not leaving your room in exchange for quality alone time with a certain vegetable boy.” Cynthia shot back mercilessly, expecting the older man to humor her. Instead, however, he shrugged his shoulders and grabbed his carry-on bag.

“Our flight is leaving now, Moore. I’m about ready to get some champagne and pop a Benadryl in first class, it’ll be a nice relaxer for our near 12-hour flight.” Laurent kept talking to the air about first class and the food they’ll eat as they walked off, but Cynthia was more interested in the deflection at her words. Ignoring Edamame AND calling her by her last name? There’s something to be gleaned from there.

Something was in the works.

TWO DAYS PRIOR IN CAPE TOWN, SOUTH AFRICA

Stretching her back, Estia was ready to end the day. She hadn’t taken a break just yet and her muscles were still sore from pulling cookies out of the large oven. If only Nelius hadn’t pulled a muscle yesterday, she would have been fine and not cursing her sons for extending their spring break in Australia to a few more days.

Her head snapped back to the front door and she made a once-over of the person at the entrance. Well, she was certainly a keeper, that’s for sure. Estia cracked her knuckles and began rubbing her hands.

“Welcome! What can I get you, we got sarmies and cups of joe. If you wait a moment, I can get you some of our famous clementine cookies! My husband would have gotten them quick but because he pulled a back muscle, he’ll be back for a few days. He needed the rest, but making short ol’ me pull cookies out of this monster of an oven? Not likely, ha!”

“One house coffee and three clementine cookies, please.” The woman says as she smiles at Estia when she takes a seat at the counter.

“Coming right up!” As the older Afrikaans woman started brewing her cup, she decided to start a conversation with her since the shop was entirely empty except for them.

“Are you visiting, stukkie? You look like a tourist.”

“Really? I haven’t been out in so long! This is my first time out of my country in a decade.”

“Wow, so long! I hope your trip is good. Where are you coming from? You don’t seem to be from up North, I can tell that for sure.”

“Taiwan.”

Estia’s eyes open up in surprise, pouring a steaming cup of coffee out for the woman. “Taiwan? Damn, wouldn’t have guessed it with the way you look. No offense, though.”

“It’s fine! I’m just happy to be here.”

“I’m happy you get to be here, enjoying my coffee! I make a damn good cup of joe and these hands prove it!” To prove her words correct, Estia throws out her hands and shows off her calluses and burn marks. “But you got some nice dainty hands! Better hide that piece of jewelry at night, though, or else someone might mug you.”

The woman looks down at her gem-encrusted ring and laughs, a soft one filled with sorrow. “Yeah, that would be pretty unfortunate. I've almost lost it once before, in the past.”

“So, here’s your cookies and coffee!” The oblivious Estia slaps down a large cup of coffee and a plate of four citrusy cookies. She leans in close to her customer, feinting a whisper. “Don’t tell anyone I gave you an extra one! They might fire me…” But just as she finishes that sentence, a chortle lets loose from her belly.

“So, what’s your name? I’m Estia Ngcobo!”

Xiang-Dorothy picks up a cookie from the plate, bites into it, and moans delightfully. “Wow, this is delicious! Oh, my name is Mawaza. Nice to meet you!”

Chapter Text

Edamura sighed as he was driven in front of a very familiar hotel, thanking the driver and walking out into the humid air of South Africa. Just before he could take in the sights once again, he was suddenly pulled into a crushing hug as soon as he exited the taxi. A certain doorkeeper was currently holding him hostage in the biggest bear hug he’d ever been given.

“Ah, boetie , it’s been so long! Glad to see you back in Cape Town!”

“Good… to… see you! Can’t breathe…” Edamura tried clawing towards Abby, but she turned away at that moment, snickering under her breath. He resigned to his fate and began hugging back the tall South African man. 

Once all the niceties had been completed, Sithembele motioned for the entire group composed of Edamura, Shi-Won, Niji, Abby, and Kudo to come into the hotel and check-in. Frankly, Edamura would have been fine with the process of checking in if one of the veins in his neck suddenly twitched when he saw the person that he would be sharing a room with (shit, he should have never let Cynthia book the rooms). Behind him, he could hear the others discussing the splitting of the suite and envied them, knowing that even if he asked one of them to switch with him they would rather suffocate then be placed in the same room as Laurent.

When they got upstairs and exited into their separate rooms, Edamura slumped onto the queen bed (the singular queen bed in the room, he noted bitterly) in a connecting bedroom and tried to dial up Xiang-Dorothy but was sent straight to voicemail. Strange. He would have expected her to keep her phone on at all times to keep in contact with them while down in Cape Town, but he guessed she got it out of her system a few days before they left for Cape Town. She told them her parents had her working the entire week so she wouldn’t be able to see them off, but her tearful goodbye to all of them and near-strangulation of Niji in jealousy of getting to go almost made the Japanese con-man chuckle. After she had given everyone a warm hug off, she rushed back inside and went back to work, possibly to alleviate her thoughts of her past life.

To be fair, if Edamura had had amnesia, he would have been shocked to find out that his previous life consisted of high risk conning of the elite and corrupted all over the world. It was a blessing to find out that she took the news rather swiftly in the first place, but he was not one to dwell on that now that he was back in one of the first spots where his coffee journey started. He leaned back in relief and began to browse through Instagram while looking through his recommended follows and posts, passing the time as he waited for the rest of the gang to arrive.

Laurent was not having a good time.

He was in the hotel room in Paris again, the night after he hallucinated finding Dorothy. His eyes were red from sobbing and the walls were stained with red wine from throwing bottle after expensive bottle to vent his anger. His hands cupped his face, and he could only hear the sounds of late-night Parisians bustling about beneath him. His attire was stained in the offending color, dribbling down his hands as the shards of glass still embedded themselves there. He could not differentiate whether or not it was blood or Cheval Blanc.

A light touch grazed his arm, and he yelped, shuffling back on the bed as he whipped his head up. It was her again. Dorothy, with a bullet hole right where her heart is.

Her eyes were a glassy blue, like a fish that had been left on ice for too long. She smiled happily at him, pursing her lips playfully and waving at him. 

“Laurent, I’m still alive.”

“Laurent, are you still alive?”

The blonde man gasped slightly as he was startled awake by Cynthia. Her face had a bit of concern on it when she saw how the sleeping man beside her was not moving when the air hostesses told them to exit the plane. However it also held a bit of amusement as the plane was not empty yet as everyone had to wait for most of the first class to exit first so the people behind them were beginning to get rowdy.

Laurent smiled at Cynthia and pulled her into a hug, as if playing the role of a loving boyfriend. “Wow, I didn’t expect you to care whether I lived or died, mon chéri .”

She gagged into his ear and pulled the Belgian man out of his seat and into the muggy airport, smiling at the cabin crew on their way out. Her smile dropped as she rolled her eyes and whispered back in his ear.

“I assure you that the only thing stopping me from allowing a crowd of people from potentially killing you in your oversleep was the thought of them finding me afterwards and subjecting myself to the same fate.”

After a bit of searching, they found the imposing figure of an African man wearing a doorman’s uniform standing stoically in the middle of the airport. On the sign were the letters “C & L” in a handwriting that was painfully obviously written by Edamura. Laurent failed to hold back a snicker as Cynthia walked up to the serious man.

“Hello, are you Sithembele? We might be the “C & L” in that little sign of yours.”

The imposing figure turned towards them, something sparking in their eyes as they looked at the two foreigners. Sithembele let out a large grin at the redhead and nodded his head. Laurent let out a large grunt as a hand suddenly found its way on his back, making the blonde man stumble forward quite a bit at the contact.

“Oh yes! I recognized Mister Laurent in his floral attire! Not a lot of mzungu around here are walking around in tasteful shirts like this.” 

Laurent puffed his chest a bit at the compliment to his dress code, sending a teasing smirk at Cynthia. “Oh, you hear that? At least someone thinks it’s amazing, unlike you and all the others. Sithembele, are we going to head to the hotel now?”

“Yes, let’s go to the car.” As Sithembele walked off, Laurent noticed a wallet in his back pocket that looked awfully similar to the one he personally kept filled with newspaper. The seasoned veteran grinned wildly to himself and made sure to keep in mind that, yes, their driver around the city was a bit of a con-artist himself. Well, as soon as the cat was let out of the bag, the wallet the other man held was not of any value.

It was night as they pulled out of the airport and onto the paved roads. Once they got to the hotel, Laurent and Cynthia thanked Sith for his hard work and slipped him a tip, a pretty generous one for helping them out. As a little tip off to Sith from Laurent, once they got their luggage and went to the lobby the Belgian man winked heavily at the doorman and walked off before he could notice the confused look on his face. Despite the attendant at the table looking pretty sleepy and a bit scatterbrained, their check-in was painless since the others had arrived first. They both traveled up the elevator to their respective rooms.

Once they got onto their floor, Laurent glanced at the rooms and their close proximities, then back at Cynthia with an eyebrow raised. “Oh, you don’t like me so much that you’d take the keycard to the executive suite all to yourself? You hurt me.” His hand raises to his heart in mock injury, a pouty expression befalling his face.

“Oh hush, you drama queen. I got the team the executive suite, but you get the honeymoon suite. I can’t tell you how glad I’m going to be not having to hear you and Edamame go at each other’s throats in passionate-”

“Woah, now! Don’t share my trysts too loudly or else everyone is going to know my trade secrets. You know a good boy has to have some tricks up his sleeve.” Laurent spoke with a sultry voice. But even as he said that, in the dim lighting of the hallway Cynthia could make out the lightest hint of a blush on the poor fool’s face. She let out a small chuckle and flourished her red hair behind her shoulder, opening her door and slowly shutting it behind her.

“Okay, Laurent. Good night, or should I say, good luck.”

The Belgian man waggled his fingers at her as her door closed and went to unlock his own, a soft smile still on his face as he shook his head. He would be fine, his little attraction to the younger Japanese man was nothing for her to get all worked up over. Not enough for her to nearly break their immense budget and get another room just for the two of them.

The other man cracked his neck, took a deep sigh, and walked into the small living room. After checking the entirety of the room for wires, bugs, and vent placements, he walked into the bathroom to freshen up. His clothing for sleep was simple as he replaced his suit for a pair of silk pajamas provided by the hotel. Finding the room where the bed was in was simple as there was only one more, which is where Laurent assumed Edamame to be resting. He tested the doorknob and was pleased to find it locked, knowing his little soybean would make it more challenging to find his way in. After a simple lockpick, the door swung open and out went his cool as he noticed his partner-in-crime lying underneath the bedsheet of the singular queen, knocked out and looking absolutely adorable.

The Belgian man’s heart thumped once in his chest, a staccato that went unnoticed as his blue eyes went from wanton to soft. Giddily moseying on up the side of the bed, he lifted the sheet quietly and slipped out underneath. The dip in the bed was immaculate as the memory foam molded around his figure and bounced the Japanese man before him up and down. 

Slowly Edamura flipped his body around, still half-asleep, and looked up at the blonde man, bleary-eyed. “Laurent, w-what are you doing here? I’m- ahhh-hhhhhaaaa… sleepy.” 

The blonde man ruffled the soft hair in front of him, calming down the sleepy Edamura. “Shh, Edamame. Go back to sleep and we’ll discuss this in the morning.”

To his surprise, Edamura nodded obediently and snuggled back down into the bed, placing his head into the crook of Laurent’s shoulder and cuddling his body into his chest. He mumbled something about “lucky you’re comfy” before falling into another slumber.

Jesus, the amount of cute Laurent could take at the moment was overloading and he needed to calm down before he did something he would regret. Laying a soft kiss on the younger man’s head, he adjusted himself before falling to sleep, trying hard to ignore the terrible feeling of nostalgia that washed over him.

Edamura shrugged off his pajama shirt and put on his vest on as he looked from afar within his suite at the seaside view that his room gave. The room itself was nice and spacious with ample walking space and a small loveseat in the corner. The room dipped slightly with a small staircase as it opened to modernistic flooring with hardwood and sleek patterns of geometry-laden walls. The hotel’s motif, a king protea flower, was utilized as a door handles for the double doors leading into a balcony space. Situated in a well-crafted recliner chair on said balcony was the reason for his ire of the life, Laurent Thierry.

The Belgian man was currently enjoying a cup of his specialty Laos coffee and already dressed to the nines for the day. He could see the slight grimace on the blonde’s face as he swallowed the rich coffee and smiled a bit as he waited for the delayed response. The thick texture of bitter coffee would be soon replaced with the likes of sour citrus and chocolate, a decadent and deadly combination. If he was smart enough, he’d taste just the slightest hint of a floral taste underneath the battle of the two overwhelming flavors and then he’d truly be addicted.

Edamura rolled his eyes as he watched Laurent sip at the scalding hot coffee while he pondered his inane ramblings. It was not his fault he had to live vicariously through his bed partner when HE was the one to brew the rest of his limited store that morning. He had to be woken up by the scent of the coffee he had been dying to try again since his trip a few months ago. He had other coffees he could have tried, other Robusta’s that he could have chosen. It wasn’t fair to him, in his mind.

Even if he was nice enough to make a cup for him. Not fair.

"I didn't know you still smoked."

"I'm an old man, I deserve to enjoy my life to the best of my abilities. I can do whatever I want."

"Yeah, you are old. You should do whatever you want while your bones aren’t brittle, grandpa."

"Okay then. I'll kiss you right now."

Just before Laurent could get up in his face and smother him with his twisted affection, Edamura ducked under the Belgian man’s open arms and finished buttoning up the vest and began arranging the rest of the three-piece suit. The blonde man stood still for just a moment, gasping dramatically and falling atop the bed. His hand fell over his face and if Edamura didn’t know him as well as he did, he’d almost hear a waver in his voice as he started bemoaning how “no one in this group loves me anymore” and other eccentricities that just come with Laurent.

Edamura was a bit more worried at the moment for the main event. He was going to go out with Abby for the day and meet with Xǔ, maybe have a couple of drinks while they discuss their “plans” for the Food Gala. 

The quick of the plan for the heist would be as follows for the weekend:

1. Let Xǔ know about some European investors that may be interested in his expansion project. Sell it to them that his food marketing is the cream of the crop in Asia and that they would be clueless to let it slide.
2. Have Edamura come in and vouch for him. Say he can help them if Xǔ would be willing to put a down payment for the planning. Edamura would procure some of his own money and put it down as an investment down (red herring) for Xǔ to put his own exorbitant amount of money.
3. Convince Xǔ to get in good with Edamura’s marketing team for his Instagram & TikTok page and try to see if they create ad revenue for him (another red herring).
4. Stay until midnight of the heist and get out of town by the night before anyone is the wiser.

Of course, Edmaura knew that the plan would involve a little bit of improv here and there so he kept it vague and was banking on letting everyone do their own thing. If something goes awry, create another path. Whatever it takes to get this trafficking fool out of Taiwan and hopefully penniless. Anything to help out people like Xiangxia- anything to help out people like Niji who are being pushed out of their businesses.

Edamura still did not know where he stood on about Xiang-Dorothy. He could feel the remorse radiating off of her even after they left for Cape Town. He knew that she was not the same person as before. Losing her memories was honestly one of the best things that could have happened to her because with that, it shows her how selfish her past life was. There would have been no way of redemption for her and now she gets one. However, Edamura knew that he couldn’t trust her. His heart was feeling for her but the burning feeling in his gut told him to leave her for the fishes. 

Her surviving was something that should not have been possible. Their meeting at the coffee shop was something that could not have been just mere chance. Edamura hoped the heist would go off without a hitch and that he would be able to help out the neighborhood of Taipei that Niji’s family lives in so he would never have to think of this experience ever again. Chalk these past few weeks all up to a bad dream. 

Edamura finished putting on his suit and turned towards Laurent, who had finished his miniature temper tantrum and was now looking at his bed partner with a lot of lust in his eyes and a few other emotions Edamura could not decipher. It was something that seemed… unstable. Dangerous, like a land mine about to be stepped on. And almost… vulnerable. These emotions swirled around in his sultry blue eyes as they raked over the Japanese man’s attire.

“How do I look?”

Laurent smirked and leaned his head back on the headrest, reaching his hand for the coffee. “You look like you’re ready to con the hell out of someone.”

He was definitely ready to con someone because it meant he could put his mind off from truly figuring out the mastermind of this scheme.

Because if he found the person that orchestrated all of this…

He’d actually kill them.

Xiang-Dorothy sat in her chair and ate the delicious cookies in front of her, savoring the clementine cookies. She took a sip of the coffee as the South African woman busied herself in the back of the shop, roasting and cutting up a sandwich for herself on her break. The shop was in a beautiful location on the waterfront and she could hear the ocean breeze through the door slap against the windchimes. The change of autumn to winter in South Africa was not too chilly but it did come with intense amounts of wind.

And dear god, the cookies were really delicious.

Okay, so, coming to Cape Town was really a spur of the moment thing. She didn’t really think it through and still didn’t know what she wanted to do. She was banking on the element of surprise from all angles and knew that if ANYONE found out that she was there before she wanted to be found, hell would be let loose upon Earth. But she needed some goddamn answers and she wasn’t getting any sitting around in Taipei trying not to be the catalyst for her previous fiancee’s mental breakdown.

The first step of her marvelous plan involved making sure that the party of people did not know she was going to be in Cape Town as well. She decided to get a last-minute flight just a few days prior to their departure and get ready to see the sights. She had never been outside of Taiwan (well, outside of her memory loss) so getting to see a new country was fascinating and exhilarating. She had been expecting the plan ride to be a lot more scary but in all honesty, it had been rather nostalgic. The scratch of the economy seats and the offer of peanuts to her felt abnormal at the very least but she did remember that she had conned the rich in her previous life so she might not be used to what would be considered “poor”.

The second step of her marvelous plan was to find some connections to Edamura in Cape Town. She scoured his page for coffees that he had tried in South Africa and was quite surprised to find out that it had been his first stop as a coffee snob. She wrote down the address of the place that had been in the recommendation and would seek it out as soon as she figured out her living conditions.

The third step of her plan was complete anonymity. She knew that she would be very noticeable to everyone in the party if she had looked the exact same as before so she changed a few details about herself beforehand. Just before the trip, she found some brown contact lenses to hide her bright blue eyes and a black wig to conceal her white hair. Her clothes had been switched out for a grey long-sleeved sweater and dress pants to conceal any more details about herself. Lastly, one more name change couldn’t hurt, right? She was already known as Dorothy, Xiangxiang, whatever other alias she went by during her time of crime. Mawaza was something that she would just have to embrace while in Cape Town.

The one thing that Dorothy felt she could not part with was the blue ring on her hand. She knew it was risky and she had already been called out on it by the nice owner Estia but it was something that she never wanted to part from again. It represented two different parts of her life: one marked by luxury and heartbreak from the past and another filled with family and responsibility in the present. Keeping this on her was a reminder that she was trying to do this not just for her sake, but for her family’s sake. Her new family’s sake and their shop. She was a stubborn person and she knew that being here jeopardizes everything but if her past self could do it, so could she. She would con this man Jinjing Xǔ if it was the last thing that she ever did.

Xiang-Dorothy-Mawaza (oh god, the amount of names she had to remember was astoundingly hard…) propped her hands up on the table and looked over at Estia bustling away at her job. “So, how’s business been for you? Those cookies taste absolutely marvelous and I cannot imagine something that tasty can be kept a secret in a city like this.”

“Oh, you know, it’s been great! Even though my two eldest decided to leave the nest, I still have my granddaughter to help me out after she gets out of secondary school. She’s a Year 11 despite just turning 15 and she looks like she wants to go off to college in the United States! I tell you, she’s going to have a tough time getting there if she doesn’t figure out her sciences.”

“Wow, that sounds great for her! She seems very ambitious setting her sights so far.”

“She is! And it’s going to be super expensive for her to do that but I don’t want to burst her bubble or anything because she’s a smart cookie.” Estia took a bite of her sandwich and sat down in front of Xiang-Dorothy-Mawaza and waved her hand around. “I’m sure it was expensive for you to fly all the way down from, where was it again? Taiwan? I’ve barely ever heard of that place.”

“Y-Yes, it was! Hah, I was quite surprised by the amount of money that it costed but I was interested in this country because I was told that my family a-adopted me from here! They never took me to see my culture but now that I’m a working adult, I guess it’s not too late.” Xiang-Dorothy-Mawaza’s hands shook as she tried to lie, lightly fumbling on some words. She hoped that her previous life had been better at this than she is now.

“Really? They adopted you from here? It’s a shame you couldn’t grow up surrounded by people who looked like you but I hope your family treated you well.” Estia put a hand on Xiang-Dorothy-Mawaza’s jeweled hand and smiled up at her. “It seems like they did considering how you look. I’m glad you were able to come back and now you can experience all that you missed out on! South Africa is a whole fun beast on it’s own, Mawaza.”

“Y-Yes, I am glad too. When I was looking up spots to visit online, this one came up under a coffee page and I was intrigued by your dedication to family. It just seemed to call out to me.” 

“Oh, you saw me on The Coffeefarian’s page! I was actually the first shop he reviewed and look at him now! Over 850,000 followers and still allowing me to meet people like you from all over the world!” Estia started going on and on about how she wanted to visit the areas of the world that Edamura had but Xiang-Dorothy-Mawaza had tuned it out as she noticed someone coming down the boardwalk to the door. Someone who looked rather familiar…

Xiang-Dorothy-Mawaza’s eyes opened significantly and she clapped her hands together, gathering Estia’s in hers and squeezing them ever so tightly. “Oh my god, I am so happy to hear that from you but, uh… I need to use the restroom really quickly. Do you happen to have one? ”

Estia’s eyebrows raised in suspicion and she looked towards the back. “Um, yes, but it is for employees only. Is this an emergency?”

Xiang-Dorothy-Mawaza’s eyes widened ever so slightly and she whispered the first thing that came to her mind. “ Well, there is a bit of flow happening as of right now… ”

Estia immediately darted around the corner of the table and grabbed the girl by the back of her neck, shoving her towards the restroom. “Jesus, girl! If you are on your period just say so next time! There’s even a customer coming up, I don’t want you to embarrass yourself. Please, take your time and let me know if I can give you some products.” In the few seconds that follow, Xiang-Dorothy-Mawaza is shoved into a restroom and left to her own devices.

After a few seconds of getting her barings together after that whiplash, she draws her breath and softly walks towards the door of the restroom. As quietly as she can, she opens the door to see Estia speaking with the bodyguard of Jinjing Xǔ, Zhihóng Gao.

‘How may I help you, sir?”

“A large boxes of your clementine cookies, two of your Chop-Chop coffees, an Arabica deluxe with creamer, and one black Arabica please.” The buff Asian man looked down from his phone and up at Estia, eyes scanning the entirety of the shop with one sweep. He was an intimidating figure, standing nearly 6’4 in the shop and dressed rather pointedly in a three-piece suit that if a lesser man had been wearing would have gotten him robbed instantly. Maybe it was the string of scars lacing his neck and the intense face tattoos that threw other people off from engaging in that sort of behavior. Estia rang up Zhihong and set to work with creating the orders. Meanwhile, Xiang-Dorothy-Mawaza was having a slight panic attack in the restroom.

Why was he here? What was he doing getting coffee from her? Is Xǔ nearby? She sat down on the seat of the toilet and took a couple of deep breaths, willing herself to calm down. It was fine, she hadn’t been seen by Zhihong.

Or had she? Oh, she was never good at being stealthy from her mama and papa especially when under duress. If she hadn’t had other people confirm her past life, she would have been certain they were lying if they had never seen her try to fumble her way out of why she had gone shopping instead of serving customers.

Amidst her panicking, she finally mustered up some courage to stick her head out of the door to check if Zhihong had left yet.

And found Zhihong staring right at her.

If her heart hadn’t stopped beating when she was escorted away from the door, it had flatlined right then and there. He was staring right at her, his laser-sharp vision trained right on the door that had just been slightly pried open. Her eyes made direct contact with his and her grip on the doorknob began to shake. Her disguise was not working, he could probably see the contacts on her eyes and the fear in her posture and the way the wig shifted to and fro. It was all a ruse and Xiang-Dorothy-Mawaza could only watch in horror as the bodyguard honed in on her face.

A single finger was raised from Zhihong as Estia’s back was to him, beckoning her forth to her doom. Slowly, unnervingly, despairingly, Xiang-Dorothy-Mawaza got up and began wobbling her way back into the front of the store. The South African jazz music playing from the speakers almost sounded like a death melody with the way the man folded his arms and sat in the chair.

As she returned to her station at the coffee bar, Zhihong sat down right next to her. His large body dwarfed the seat below him as he let out a deep sigh, arms resting themselves on the bar for some extra comfort. He cracked his neck and Xiang-Dorothy-Mawaza winced as she heard each individual pop of the air sockets .

“How are the cookies?”

The ex-con artist jolted in her seat, nearly banging her knee on the top of the bar. Wait, was he asking her a question? In English, no doubt, albeit heavily accented with a Taiwanese dialect.

“Wh-what? R-repeat that, please?”

“How are the cookies here? My boss’ clientele swears that they are delicious and I have come to bring them over. He has not been here for a while so if the quality has deteriorated, I would rather not see it come to them unsatisfactory.”

There was no way he was asking her about the damn cookies. He knew, he had to be bluffing her. She tried to still her breath and winced as she felt a cough get stifled in her throat, suddenly burning with fear.

‘The cookies are delicious, sir.”

“Mhm. Thank you, miss. I love a local’s opinion.” It had to be a slip of the tongue or a mispronunciation but Xiang-Dorothy-Mawaza could swear she heard an emphasis on the word local . It made her gut churn and her head sweatier than it needed to be in this countries heat and dear lord, she was going to faint.

The silence continued on, the only sounds in the shop being the speakers playing music and Estia humming to herself as she brought the bags of treats over.

“Here you go, sir. Everything is in order and I made sure to include some extra snacks in case you decide to try some more. Have a great day!”

Zhihong grunted at her a meager ‘Thank you’ and looked back to Xiang-Dorothy-Mawaza. He slowly rose from his seat and turned towards the door, keeping his sight focused on the disguised woman. Before he stepped away for good, Xiang-Dorothy-Mawaza noticed him jerk his head towards the counter before he made his way off. Weird.

Her eyes shifted to the bar where the man had motioned to and noticed a couple of napkins sitting on top of the them, some littered with tiny doodles and others with bits of Chinese charatcrers that meant “schedule” and “gala”.

But underneath that, there was something else. Something less napkin-like and more cardboard, shining brightly under the lighting of the shop. Slowly, Xiang-Dorothy-Mawaza grabbed the object and pulled it out, examining it further.

A playing card, one that looked to be from a rather expensive playing deck. The card was entirely gold, the source of the glint that caught her eye. The engravings on the card were of a quality ink, black and bold against the shine of the card. Xiang-Dorothy-Mawaza could feel the raised texture of the card from how she held it, flipping it back and forth to see the raised ridges from the symbol embedded into it. 

An Ace of Hearts card. And under it, a couple of tickets to the Gala.

Xiang-Dorothy-Mawaza was a nervous wreck but for some reason, this calmed her down. She wasn’t stupid. She knew this had significance to it. To what extent, she did not know. After a moment more of analyzing it, she pocketed the card.

“So, Mawaza, are you feeling alright? Got everything squared away?”

The woman in question shadowed her face for a brief moment before turning back, her brown eyes sparkling with a renewed passion. She had an idea now.

“Yes, thank you so much! I have a proposal for you, actually. Would you and some of your friends like to be invited to a gala?”

Edamura fell back onto the bed as he groaned, his feet tired from walking all over Cape Town once more. This time, however, he had an easier time keeping his company entertained as Abby kicked up her “innocent” act into high gear. Xǔ was utterly enamored with her as they walked along the boardwalk and walked through the city’s rich district. Edamura had even found it rather relaxing to be near his bodyguard, despite the lack of communication between the two. Gao just stood there and kept watch, ever dutifully watching over his boss. The Japanese conman tried his very best to ignore the scars running along his neck, not wanting to find out why he had those in the first place.

He had started sowing seeds, selling the fact of the investors that would be at the party and Xǔ was looking like he was going to go all in. It was going by way too smoothly that, of course, Edamura had to pause and take a deep breath. He had been in a lot of cons in the past and to let his guard down would prove detrimental since he had everything to lose here. His friends, his coffee business, his… he didn’t even know how to categorize the fucked up relationship he had with Laurent but even that too. He needed to stay calm and keep focused.

A clementine cookie found its way into his mouth before he knew it, practically shoved in. Edamura nearly choked on the cookie before he bolted up and grabbed a bottle of water to wash down the half that he had so he did not spit out hastily. So much about keeping his guard up.

“Ugh, pleh, pbbt - what the- Laurent, what the fuck?”

The blonde in question only raised an eyebrow at the Japanese man, a smirk finding its way to his face. “Ah, Edamame, sorry.. I thought you loved Estia’s cookies! I just went there this morning to get them, imagine how mad she was when she found out you hadn’t come with.”

A scowl formed on Edamura’s face as he angrily bit back into the cookie, now savoring the citrusy delicacy. “You went to her coffee shop without me?  And didn’t get me any coffee?”

Laurent shrugged his shoulders and motioned to the table behind him, a plastic bag filled to the brim behind him. “Do not fret, mon amour, I have more than just sweets here for you.”

“Aw, just for me?”

“I think her exact words were ‘espresso-ly for you, Mister Coffeefarian’, bad pun and all. She sends her regards to making her a top tourist spot in Cape Town for coffee aficionados.” Edamura rolls his eyes at the terrible coffee pun and lies back on the bed, done with his cookie and just relaxing his body now.

“Well, did you let her know that I am on this trip for important business not related to coffee?”

At that, a light blush found its way to Laurent’s cheeks and a soft smile reappeared. “As a matter of fact, yes .”

Edamura opened his eyes and narrowed them at the “French” man, rolling his wrist in a “go on” fashion. “What’s with that sleazy tone?”

“Sleazy?! Non, mon chéri, it just so happens that I decided to tell her that we are on our honeymoon!” A loud groan escaped Edamura before he could stop it and he pushed his face into his hands.

“Oh my god, Laurent. Please don’t tell me she believed that.”

“I hope she did unless she gave me all of these treats for free out of pity.”

A murderous glare perched itself on Edamura’s face and fixated itself on Laurent as his hands shot out to grip the French man’s shirt. “YOU CONNED HER OF ALL PEOPLE?”

“She gave those to me for free, yes Edamame. And I freely slipped $500 USD into her cash register when she wasn’t looking.” That statement seemed to calm down Edamura begrudingly as he slumped back onto the bed, outstretched hands slumping back down.

He kept his gaze fixated on the ceiling above, trying hard not to pay attention to the thickening silence of the room. There was a difference to this silence, one that was very familiar. He knew that if he wasn’t able to keep up a conversation, it would lead somewhere where it always went. Somewhere that left a burning sensation in his gut. An event that happened all too often in places such as this.

Almost as if he had been anticipating it, a tall shadow fell above his head. He could feel the heat right next to his ear in the form of the man’s thigh, barely grazing the side of his head and cradling him in between. A soft voice echoed from above, barely audible but noticeable in the intimacy of the room.

“Makoto.” Edamura’s heart clenched at the sound of his first name, gripping the sheets below him in an effort to stay stoic. “I feel like you’ve been working way too hard. You need to let loose a little, yes?”

He wanted to nod so badly. He wanted to scream how much he didn’t want to be in this situation again, but how he had to do Niji right by helping her out despite all that her friend has done to him. His throat burned with an unspoken wail of hatred for all that Laurent has done to him over the past year,s and how, even though he hated him down to his very core, also found the raw beauty in his intrepid ways and sorrowful escapades to lessen the pain of a not-so-lost lover. He mourned how much he wanted Dorothy to die and also for Dorothy to live better than she had in the past.

Most of all, he wished that he could have the courage to tell Laurent that he was just as broken as he was, jagged and cynical despite the years trying to forget prison and conning and the lie that his father built on his arrest. Relate to the blonde man because he was not the only one at fault and that maybe, sometime down the road, he could find the balls to tell him there might be a chance at feeling something. A bare spark that showed that there was a feeling of reciprocation and a chance to rebuild their relationship. That they could be broken in a way that matches each other perfectly.

But the relationship by this point was built like a stack of playing cards and a single gust of wind would have it fluttering down. So he paused, trying hard to find a way to tell him he was too tired.

But Laurent was one step ahead of him.

“Ah, I guess it is too late at night to do something. Silence is a valid answer and I am sure you’d like to get some rest. We do have the con tomorrow and we do have to help out Xiangxiang.” Laurent came into view of Edamura and softly smiled at him. His blue eyes held so much emotion that Edamura could barely single out a specific thought that he may have been having. His soul was laid bare and he didn’t have the insight to understand any of it. “I imagine that you’d like to do this for her, yes?”

“Y-Yes, Laurent.” 

A low chuckle escaped Laurent and, for the briefest second, Edamura could see a crack in his easygoing nature. A slight twitch above the eye, maybe from his own unrest. “Of course you would. Well, let’s get going to sleep.”

A couple of hours later, under the heavy threaded blankets of the hotel and laying in the comfort of Laurent’s hold, did Edamura understand the meaning behind Laurent’s taunting voice.

He was jealous of Niji. 

Huh.

Chapter Text

The day of the con had finally arrived.

Edamura sat in the main suite trying to gather his bearings as Cynthia went over the logistics of the plan over a video call with the rest of the crew.

“I’m already at the venue and it is looking to be a gorgeous day. Light clouds in the sky, flowers blooming softly, and the guest list set. Now, do we have our costumes set?”

“Yes.” Abby replied to Cynthia with a bit of distaste in her tone as she downed another cup of Brazilian coffee. Edamura had gotten a bit worked up today and pulled out some of his “lucky” coffee beans that had kept him sane over the past few years. It was a blend that had been carefully curated for him by a man in Minas Gerias and what stood out about it was how much it was just a good cup of coffee. An overall all-around delicious cup of coffee with notes of nuttiness, chocolate, and a smooth buttery finish. It wasn’t something that had a lot of complexity but was just how a coffee should usually taste: delicious and STRONG. The impact of how straightforward it was was shocking to Edamura, almost to the point that he had to have it once every few months to balance out his palate. It was his gold standard for basic coffee and a reliable hit with most people. However, one of those people was not Abby. 

Her head lolled backward, her attitude the opposite of her outfit’s vibe, as she flicked the middle finger out to Edamura. “You better get this off without a hitch or else I’m shoving this boot so far up your ass I’ll use my toes to control you like a sock puppet.”

Edamura shuddered, imagining the extremely vivid description of torture as he nodded with a bit more confidence. “It should go fine as long as everyone remembers their roles. Mnisi will be in charge of the Gala since most of you will be servers?” Mnisi was one of the local con artists in the area that would be helping provide people to serve as fillers for the event. They were an individual that Edamura could describe as polite and helpful while at the same time able to take your socks while you were wearing them. Edamura still could not to this day figure out how the hell he did it.

“Yes, Edamame. Just to let you know, pretty much everyone you see there is a con artist so do not be afraid. It should go over quite smoothly.”

Edamura nodded and turned his attention to Niji who was sitting at the back table near him with a laptop in front of her and an earpiece in her ear. She seemed to be doing a lot better than Edamura had expected if violently shivering in her chair was anything to go off of. He had fully expected her to sit back and just let them do their thing but she was adamant about not being “useless” so they gave her the important task of being their eye in the sky and information dealer. She would be working in tandem with the South African con artists to ensure all comms were efficient and no unnecessary personnel infiltrated the premises. Everyone on the team had a micro-cam attached to a specific part of their bodies that hooked up to the laptop that fed video feed through every minute and Niji would have the privilege of watching Xǔ go absolutely broke in a matter of hours. The one going over the final pieces of the surveillance process was, to Edamura’s surprise, Laurent.

“And here’s some pages with common phrases that may be used by anyone on the team in case of an emergency. Just practice talking into the microphone and clicking on someone’s feed for them to hear, okay?”

Niji, who at that point had ceased functioning properly because 1) she was absolutely nervous and 2) Laurent was standing next to her wearing nothing but very revealing boxer briefs and a clean-shaven face with trimmed hair that would be the crux of his disguise, snapped back into reality and nodded her head. “Ah, yes!!! Of course!!! That’s very helpful, thanks you!”

Laurent smirked and leaned down to whisper something in her ear, making her extremely flush so that Edamura could see the tips of her ears turn bright red. By this point, Edamura walked over and slapped Laurent over the head with his own pile of papers harshly, giving no pity to the foolish man.

“Stop sexually harassing her and get ready for the con before I beat your ass.”

Laurent leaned back from his position over Niji’s shoulder and ruffled Edamura’s hair, pulling his head in for a short forehead kiss. “Xiangxiang is able to tell me whether she is comfortable or not with my presence, Edamame. I’ll be over here after getting a bit more changed, darling.” 

As Laurent sauntered off to keep changing, Edamura looked over at Niji with a tired expression. “Did he actually harass you? Do I need to break one of his limbs?”

Niji shook her head and pointed at the screen of the laptop, gesturing to the complex interface. “N-No, he was just giving me a rundown of the basics once more. He had helped me yesterday with it too.”

Edamura raised his eyebrow at that casual release of information. “Oh, really? Thank you so much for all your help, ‘Xiangxiang’.” 

Niji smiled at Edamura and gave him a thumbs-up. “Of course, Edamura! I couldn’t just let you do this all on your own. I’ll be sure to help you out as much as possible.

Edamura smiled at her enthusiasm and didn’t even notice the glare directed right at his head from the direction of the Belgian man.

“Stop being so fucking jealous and let him know how you feel.”

“Abby, I have let him know how I felt and he is just being a bit… blunt to my advances.”

“If being blunt to your advances means you and him shagging and snogging at every given chance and him still wanting to beat your face to a pulp, I’d call you something a hell of a lot worse than that.”

“Abby, has anyone ever told you that you talk a bit too much?”

“Yes and they are currently recovering from their injuries at the hospital. Extensive injuries involving crushed pelvises for horny fucks.”

“Then you talk the perfect amount.”

“Of course I do.”

Xiang-Dorothy-Mawaza was currently trying to figure out a very important task.

What is she going to do once she got inside?

Her patience was waning as well since it seemed that herding three elderly women were a lot harder than expected. Estia, Serena, and Nambitha seemed to embody all varying levels of excitement for the event, namely Serena who complained to be jetlagged still after flying in two nights ago. It also didn’t help that it had recently rained so the mud roads were not suitable for the women to walk on. After calling a local hotel van to come pick them up, the women would just not stop talking whether it be about their plans for the week to how their restaurants are coming along to the harvest this year on grapes to their children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren. If Xiang-Dorothy-Mawaza had to hear one more word about how Chiara and Carlotte’s life was going, she might as well move up there and surprise them as their new aunt-in-law.

“So, you are also heading to the Gala?”

Xiang-Dorothy-Mawaza looked to the left and nodded politely to her driver. He greeted them outside of the coffee shop and introduced himself as Sithembele. As he tapped his fingers on the wheel, Xiang-Dorothy-Mawaza could see the numerous gold and silver rings covering all the way up to his knuckles.

“Yes, we are heading over to the Gala. I was able to procur some tickets the other day from a benefactor.”

“Ah, so you must be one of those foodie people too! Good, I’ll also be attending the event. One of my friends wanted me to see how it goes down since we haven’t had one down in Africa. Apparently, this is usually a European thing.”

Before Dorothy could respond, Serena’s meek voice from the back piped up. “Actually, I’ve never heard of this event. I just flew down from Italy a couple of days ago and keep up with food expos such as these.”

“Ah, I see ma’am. Well, from my understanding is that this is a privately hosted event so it’s mostly corporate companies. Dealings with wealthy people, of the sort. Not something that people of our caliber usually come into contact with.”

As Serena and Sithembele continued to converse, Xiang-Dorothy-Mawaza’s gaze flitted around the car until it landed back on Sithembele’s jewelry ladened hands. Now, they were calmly holding the wheel with the utmost focus.

In the back of her mind, she knew a tic when she saw it. Sithembele was lying. 

She didn’t know where that intuition came from. A bit startled, she leaned back into her seat and set her gaze on the watered roads around her. However, she knew that Sithembele was lying to them about something and that scared her.

“Hey, Sithembele, how long should it take us to get to the Gala?”

“Hmm? Oh, maybe another 20 minutes.”

Fingers tapping. Telling the truth.

“Good to know! Oh, what does your friend do that allows them to get invited to such events?”

“Ah, they are a previous clientele of mine. I drove them around the city and made good conversation with them.”

Xiang-Dorothy-Mawaza looked at him with a bit of a narrowed view, tilting her head. “And they invite you to a private event such as this? That seems to be a generous person.”

“Oh yes, rich people can be very generous. This one is associated with the food industry, mostly tomatoes. They regulate and distribute tomatoes and other vegetables to parts of Africa. I used to work on a farm when I was younger and gave some of my personal anecdotes and it seemed to touch them.”

Focused hands. He’s lying.

Even though she knew that he was lying, she didn’t seem to feel like she was in any danger. She couldn’t really tell which part he was lying about, just that he was lying about something in his speech. It didn’t help that the women behind her were arguing over the inherent nature of a tomato being a fruit or vegetable with Serena getting unnaturally loud in her defense of it being a vegetable.

A few relatively uneventful minutes later, they arrived at the venue. In front of them laid a massive convention center, decked out with banners promoting different superfoods and sponsors for the event. Besides that, a line of people could be seen in the distance receiving their entry badges.

“Alright, thank you so much for the ride Sithembele!” Xiang-Dorothy-Mawaza gave him a big smile and reached into her purse to hand over a few hundred Rand for the ride but Sithembele put his hand out.

“Oh no, I couldn’t! I am already grateful for you all to have the same destination as me. Take it as a good faith from me.” Sithembele started walking towards the building at that, followed in tow by the women as they clambered towards his bulking figure. Feeling ever slightly suspicious, Xiang-Dorothy-Mawaza looked back down into her purse to find the exact amount of money needed for the ride replaced with… newspaper.

A wave of nostalgia washed over her as she let out a laugh, looking back at Sithembele with a renewed interest. So he’s also a con artist? Guess he’s here to help out Edamura as well.

Making her way into line with the others, she saw up ahead that there were a couple of volunteers collecting the tickets that had been left out by Gao. Distributing three of them out to the others, Xiang-Dorothy-Mawaza approached one of the volunteers.

“Hello there, do you have a ticket?”

“Yes, I do! Here you go.” As she handed her ticket over to the person, Xiang-Dorothy-Mawaza was surprised to see behind the table that the volunteer was dressed rather… minimally for the event. Long legs were draped in a tasteful royal purple dress, bright red hair done-up beautifully with a flower clamp and shimmering amethyst earrings. She was a gorgeous woman through and through and the first thought that ran through Xiang-Dorothy-Mawaza’s mind was “honeypot”.

“-cuse me? What is your name?”

“H-huh?!” Xiang-Dorothy-Mawaza’s was snapped back to reality after finding herself staring a bit too long at the beautiful woman in front of her. “Ah, please put down Mawaza.”

“That’s a lovely name. Here’s your name tag and please enjoy your time at the expo.”

“Thank you very much, have a great…” As she gazed upon the crowd ahead of her, her eyes suddenly found themselves locked with another person’s. And for some reason, despite the distance between her and this person in the venue, the feeling of nostalgia welling up inside her almost caused her to fall over.

What appeared to be a well-dressed man looked her way. His lanky limbs filled his tailored suit quite well, holding onto a glass of what appeared to be sherry. His shock-filled bright blue eyes were framed by his blonde hair and he seemed to be on his way to address something when he put his gaze on her. His gaze was fixated on her face in what appeared to be regret and grief and she recognized it from the photo from a couple weeks back. She knew that if she stood there any longer that she’d have no courage to go through with the rest of the con. 

So, Xiang-Dorothy ran inside as soon as he looked away.

And it might have been her own imagination. But it seemed as if he turned away on purpose.

Laurent finally looked back at Cynthia’s spot at registration, desperate to find her face again. But to his dismay, she was no longer there. Standing there like a fool caught out under a spotlight, he internally cursed at his moment of weakness.

She was dead…

No, she IS dead. There is no way she could have survived. And on that, there is no way she would be in South Africa. She died off the coast of Japan. She wasn’t here. Besides, that woman had brown eyes. Black hair. No jewlery but he didn’t catch sight of her hands and-

No. He shook his head. Even his delusions were catching him in bright daylight. And during a con too. He looked down at the glass of bubbly he procured to sip during conversations and angrily emptied it into a bush nearby. Drinking alcohol would only worsen the hallucinations.

Brushing off his suit and doing his best to look presentable, he walked back inside the convention center.

By this point of the day, Edamura should be showing Xǔ around to some of the booths and around the area to immerse him in the event. Soon enough, there should be adequate evidence that showcases the validity of the event. All he needed to do was look pretty (not too difficult) and not stick out too-

“Laurent?!? Is that you?”

A wave of shock swept over him but he quickly changed pace and looked down with a suave smile at Estia. “Oh my, if it isn’t Estia! What brings you here with…” and his shock was tripled instantly at the two other women by her side, one familiar and one not familiar. He searched back in his mind to see if he had invited them to the con but he had no recollection. It seemed that some outside force had brought them in and the only one he could assume to be related to it was… Edamame.

Despite the sudden awkwardness from Laurent, Estia picked the conversation right back up, sauntering her way into the convention center. “Jou bliksem, I should have expected you to be here because of Makoto but why aren’t you with him? It’s your honeymoon and you're away from your man, ek sal jou bliksemse moer donner!”

Calm as ever, Nambitha put a hand on Estia’s shoulder. “No need to get so huffy, Estia. Now Laurent, why aren’t you with your husband? Also, congratulations on your marriage.”

“Ah, I was just getting myself acquainted while he does some walking around and talking up some sponsors. I would just ‘be too extra’ and possibly drive away some of the potential clients. This is a bit of a detour before we continue our trip of lovely bliss. Ah, and you must be their friend! What is your name?”

“You can call me Serena, Signore Laurent.” The small woman who had been in the background came forward and nodded her head at him. “You must be the husband of that bullish Japanese man. My condolences.”

A hearty laugh escaped Laurent before he could stop it, holding him in place for a couple of moments. Bullish? This must be the woman Edamame scared all those years ago! Ah, he remembered that call with fondness.

“Yes, he is my husband. Was he the one who accommodated your arrival?”

Having been looking around in confusion, Estia shakes her head no. “Ah, no. We actually had a very nice friend help us come here. She said her name was Mawaza but she seems to have disappeared.”

The Frenchman raised an eyebrow before nodding and letting a natural smile work its way on his face. “Ah, I see. Well, we can walk and talk while you describe her to me.”

This would be a good distraction for Laurent away from his delusions.

Niji was doing amazing.

She was absolutely not freaking out trying to keep track of all of the monitors of the convention while coordinating the voices in her ear. Despite how easy Laurent had made it seem during the initial test run, having it happen in real time was definitely not mentally straining. Not only did she have to speak through a translator for most of her call-ins with people outside of Edamura, she had to be a bookkeeper for lots of the selling booths. Sending information from one booth to the other, making sure the numbers were accurate for the ‘sellers’ to swindle others who had been bamboozled by the allure of the con, and other small tasks that piled on and on.

The day passed by without too many hitches, just a couple of recalculations on her part when some local women came around and started driving the price up on everything. They had legitimate passes to the event so it should have been a cinch to scam them but they seemed way too knowledgable about the food industry to be swayed by the confidence men around the plaza. Niji nearly passed out when one of them asked where they held the convention in Europe and the confidence man assigned to the booth nearly slipped up because of her. But thanks to them, they got more out of Xǔ than projected for the con, nearly 870 million dollars worth of business deals and a couple more millions on "imported women".

Sitting next to her, however, were Shi-Won and Cynthia. They had been a massive help the entire time, with Shi-Won picking up the slack when she couldn’t be quick on her feet by redirecting the calls from Niji to herself. Cynthia, on her off-time when she wasn’t on the floor acting as the head of the “food sample employees” or the conwomen posing as trafficked slaves, by rechecking her notes and pointing out booths that needed aid. Niji felt like they were the ones actually doing mostly everything, if she had to be honest.

The Taiwanese native turned to stare at the woman next to her, watching her glance at each screen in front of her with practiced efficiency. Shi-Won was typing away at a keyboard without even looking, the Excel sheet in front of her calculating the earnings of the day. It was only the two of them in the room at the moment and despite her nerves getting the best of her, Niji decided that it was a good time to try some small talk.

“S-So Ms. Shi-Won, you knew Xiangxiang before she lost her memory? It must be nice to see her still alive.”

The typing of the keyboard continued and the silence of conversation permeated the room. Niji was doing incredible.

“Apologies for that. I should be grateful that you all are doing this for her.”

Another long stretch of silence continued before Niji hung her head, turning back towards her computer and clicking open her call button. She wasn’t the best at one-on-one situations but it didn’t seem like Shi-Won was going to say anything. A professional was hard at work, of course, and she was just the fill-in so that Xiangxiang’s ex-fiance didn’t find out about her. 

A voice cut her out of her daydream. “What is she like?”

“Huh?” Niji blurted out, a bit shocked at Shi-Won’s breivity. “Y-You mean Xiangxiang?”

“Who else would I be talking about, Ms. Ma? You know no one else here besides Edamura,” Shi-Won said back. Niji flinched at the neutral tone and stared back at her computer, sighing heavily.

“Well… she’s a firecracker, I’d have to say. I met her 10 years ago when she was adopted by Auntie and Uncle after their fishing trip. My mom called them crazy because she knew that they were still grieving over Yi-Hsuan, wouldn’t trust her when she first arrived. Didn’t allow her in our shop, especially when she broke our countertop with a mallet during renovation. Screamed at her for a full hour while Xiangxiang grinned without a thought in her mind.”

“I never asked for your mom’s opinion, I asked for-”

“Mama was always telling me not to hang out with that hēi rén, saying she had to be the ghost of Yi-Hsuan haunting Auntie and Uncle. It made me really mad, though. Xiangxiang never did anything bad to me. I never reached out to her for companionship but since our shops were really close, she’d come by and hang out. Ask me to get some xiaolongbao, walk the streets with her to make sure people didn’t mug her, and we’d go to the malls. We’d always stop by the jewlery store and Xiang would go for the most expensive things and gush about wanting it.” Niji stopped in her recollection as she snorted a bit. “Oh my, we got kicked out of one store because of it. The guy thought she was robbing them and they called security. Thank god I was good at running in school.”

Niji turned to Shi-Won, who was not typing anymore but looking silently at her computer. “I can go on and on about the things we did for the past couple of years. She and I have traveled all over Taiwan, not including ferry rides to other islands because her parents are afraid that she might fall in the ocean again. Every time I go to another country, I get her a souvenir and she tries to make up a story related to how I got that item. Her favorite food is her mom’s doubanyou and she’d ask for a whole one just for herself for New Year’s. She has the best luck with guys and she’s always trying to set me up even though I can’t flirt to save my life. Oh, and one time-”

Niji decided to stray her eyes towards Shi-Won’s screen and smirked when she noticed the soft smile that had fallen on her face. Maybe… “So how was your and Xiangxiang’s relationship like?”

Before Shi-Won could answer, a sound popped up in Niji’s ear and she yelped, answering without a second thought. “Ah! H-Hello?”

“Ah, Ms. Guāng. Pleasure to be speaking to you.” The sultry voice on the other end of the line did nothing to soothe the fear in Niji’s throat, recognizing the alluring tilt to be Laurent. She cleared her throat and began typing away.

“Yes, Mr. Thierry. I can hear you clearly. What seems to need my assistance?”

“Ah, I just wanted to check up on you, madame. How does it feel knowing that your family’s business is going to be avenged?”

“S-Splendid, Mr. Thierry. Mama and Papa will be proud, hopefully,” Niji stammered as she felt her heartrate pick up again.

“Glad to hear that. The day is nearly done and you’ve done so much already for us. I can ask for Shi-Won to send a vehicle your way and you can go back to your hotel room to rest.”

Niji stared at her screen and back at Shi-Won, a bit uncertain. “U-Uh, would that be fine? Shi-Won is still-”

“Ah, Shi-Won is a professional. She has done this many times. It would make me so happy if someone like you were able to relax.”

“L-Let me ask her.” Before Niji could continue her question, Shi-Won slammed her hand down on Niji’s computer and enabled the speaker, yelling loudly into her headcom.

“Whoever this is, don’t mention my name out loud unless you want me to physically come over there and beat your ass.”

“Aw, it would be my pleasure, Shi-Won! But no, I was asking dear Xiangxiang if she would like to retire for the day,” Laurent responded, saccharine tone on display.

“Only if you can get Cynthia in here. She needs to help me sort through all of this data and I can’t be bothered at my age to be a bookkeeper,” Shi-Won drawled as she slid back to her seat, lighting up a cigarette on the way back.

“Yes, of course. Xiangxiang, you’re dismissed. Safe travels back to the hotel.”

“T-Thank you, Mr. Thierry!”

The call ended and Xiangxiang let out a sigh of relief. She could finally leave. It was tough trying to commit crimes flawlessly; she didn’t know how they could do it. As she finished packing her things, a hand settled on her shoulder.

Niji turned to Shi-Won, confusion on her face before she saw the grateful look in Shi-Won’s eyes.

“To answer your question, she was like a daughter to me.”

Nodding sagely, Niji bolted out the door.

As she left the building, she waved down a taxi and headed inside. Once she had settled, she finally took out her personal phone. The entire time she had been inside of the convention, she didn’t dare try to look at her phone. It would only serve to be a distraction and she didn’t want her phone to be captured on the same radio waves as the ones used by the con artist’s. If they got caught, they would be able to implicate her on that, or so her mother taught her.

Turning on her phone, Niji stared at the screen for a brief moment before a spell of terror overtook her body. She raced to open her phone and call Edamura, needing to let him know what happened. The text message that had been sent to her during work hours felt heavy in her phone, the anxiety she tried to hold back spilling forth in her guts. 

[From: Unknown Number]

Oh, by the way, madame. Next time we do a con together, do remember to turn off the line when discussing important matters regarding Team Confidence. These lines are open and can be accessed by anyone. It’d be a shame if something dire was leaked during those calls.

Especially ones considering your friend Xiangxiang. I will see you soon.

Merci, Monsieur Thierry

The night came quickly and Edamura was ready to slump over from exhaustion. He had spent the entire time in the company of Xǔ, who was more than enthusiastic to create some “connections” with these European investors. It seemed like the deals went off without a hitch and they were currently celebrating at a nearby bar. Drinks were on Xǔ and he was swallowing them down without a problem, a multitude of shots lining the counter.

“Ah, couple more shots please. Sasaki, you can hold your liquor! You’re probably built to hold alcohol like a true Jap.”

Ignoring the racial slur, Edamura grabbed another shot and sipped at it, wincing at the content. That was some strong shit that he bought. Passing it off to Abby who downed it without a second thought, Edamura shrugged. “I’m sure Abby here would be more than pleased to drink with you.”

With a yip of glee, Xǔ sat down next to Abby and started another inane conversation, bonding over South African gin. Despite rolling her eyes at Edamura, she begrudgingly took another shot of alcohol and started fawning over the other man.

“Sasaki.”

Edamura visibly jumped at the sound of his fake name being uttered to the far left of him. Turning to the side, he could see Zhihóng Gao was playing around with a deck of cards. His hands flowed back and forth through the cards in a practiced shuffle.

“Ah, yes?”

“Take this. As a memory of tonight and gratefulness for the invitation here.”

After shuffling through the cards, he handed one over to Edamura in a swift fashion. The face of the card was down but he could tell that it was a quality deck. The tactile face of the card meant that he could tell what he got without having to look at it and the color scheme of black and gold suited the royal touch of the card even more prevalent.

Once he flipped his card over, he examined it with a a renewed interest. It was a King of Hearts, the red heart now replaced with the sheen of a golden exterior. The black background exentuated the golden glow of the king, holding his sceptre and gazing back at Edamura with a solemn stare.

Bowing his head slightly, Edamura gave Gao a soft smile. “Thank you, I really appreciate this.”

“Do not mention it. Cards are a great way to pass the time and, sometimes, they hold meanings that others fail to recognize.” Gao looked past Edamura as he reshuffled his deck, seemingly back on watch duty. “I simply give cards to others that I believe embody that meaning.”

“Well, what does my card mean?”

Ending his current riffle, Gao placed his deck of cards down and reached for a nearby cigarette. “That’s for you to research. If you get it right, come back to me and I’ll confirm it for you.”

Feeling a bit annoyed at the vague answer, Edamura decided to nod once and get back to entertaining Xǔ. It wasn’t too late in the night so they could afford to hang out for a couple more-

“EDAMURA!!! ARE YOU THERE?!?”

A blast of sound entered his earpiece and he nearly had to rip it off in front of the criminals from the abruptness. Slamming his hand against his receiver, it thankfully turned off before whoever yelled could make more noise. He could hear a small ringing in his ear now and he had to go contact whoever made his eardrum nearly break. Wincing slightly, Edamura stood up.

“I’ll be right back, Jinjing and Mr. Gao. I think one of these drinks is making me nauseous.”

Quickly stepping out of the bar and sidestepping a local, the Japanese man took one deep breath and turned his receiver back on. Just as before, the voice was calling out to him in a panicked state of mind.

“Edamura! Oh, please, Edamura, can you hear me? Edamura, please come help me out!”

“I can hear you loud and clear, ‘Xiangxiang’. What do you need?” Edamura hadn’t heard from Niji all day besides the usual hourly updates on the surveillance. Her hours were up and she should have been done considering her shift was up. She wasn’t supposed to contact him unless something really bad happened…

“It’s Laurent! He found out I’m not Xiangxiang!”

Oh shit. Oh fuck.

Edamura immediately ran back into the bar, a pit of despair slowly forming in his stomach. He knew he shouldn’t have left her alone and he knew that Laurent would find out sooner or later. What he needed to do was get Abby and get the hell back to the hotel before something bad happened to Niji and Laurent found out more than he needed to.

“Abby, we should head out-”

The entire room was trashed. Broken glass shards littered the floor and he sees small splotches of blood on the couch. It seems like there was a struggle. And the pit of despair grew even larger as he realized…

Abby, Jinjing, and Gao were nowhere to be seen.

Chapter Text

It was so freaking dark right now.

Trying her best to navigate the dimly lit streets of Cape Town at night was definitely not Xiang-Dorothy-Mawaza’s best plan. Not to mention how dangerous going anywhere at night is, every single sound seemed to be amplified, and the thought of being murdered was something that kept her on her senses. It seemed to be the best option, however, since she had been tailing Edamura since the end of the day, it seemed like she was going to prevent such a thing from happening.

To her surprise, she hadn’t been noticed by Edamura when she entered the bar. He seemed to be rushing out for a call anyway. What did surprise her was that as soon as she found a seat, she saw the man who she knew was the cause of all her current suffering at home. The tycoon warlord who supposedly held the market of the boba market in Taiwan, along with the death of many, many women across Asia. Knowing she had to keep a low profile, Xiang-Dorothy-Mawaza walked over to the bathroom and watched the evil man from afar. 

Jinjing Xǔ. His smug rat face was as ugly as ever, sneering at the young Arabic woman in his hands. Wait, she looked familiar… her name was Abigail, right? A friend of Edamura that she met back in Taiwan. As Xiang-Dorothy-Mawaza attempted to peer over her dark shades, Xǔ dragged the unconscious woman over to the door with the help of his bodyguard, splattering fake blood across the counter and kicking chairs here and there before walking out the back door with his mysterious bodyguard.

His bodyguard! Xiang-Dorothy-Mawaza definitely needed to follow them. She needed to do something or else Abby might get sold into slavery, beaten, raped… Xiang-Dorothy-Mawaza cut off her train of thought at the idea of her colleague being attacked like that.

However, the dim streets did not help in her endeavor to follow the group. If anything, it seemed like she was getting lost more and more in the city. She definitely did not like the vibes that she was getting from the empty streets, but she had to keep pressing forward. She needed to confront the man who harassed her loved ones every day, who made her Mama and Papa cry over how they would lose their business and be set back. This scum who sold women all over the continent deserved life in prison, maybe even death.

“There you are.”

A hand grabbed at the back of Xiang-Dorothy-Mawaza’s wig, pushing her up against a wall. A strangled scream escaped her body, and she started to struggle, trying desperately to claw the hand away from her head. Behind her, she could feel the cold point of a gun nestle into her nape, and she shrieked again, now using her feet to kick back at the attacker.

“Mr. Xu, I found the person who has been following us.” The voice called out to another person behind her, and she cursed, recognizing it as Gao’s. Her attempt to escape stopped for now as she was forcibly faced forward from the wall to look right into Xǔ’s eyes. His stare was cold, calculated, and sleazy as he gripped her face with his hands.

“Hmm. How long has she been tailing?”

“Ever since the bar.” Fuck, he knew she had been following them?

“Oh, so I assume she saw us take precious Abby away from our dear friend Sasaki? Well, he didn’t deserve her anyway. I’ll treat his slave much better than he ever could. And this woman thought she could stop me?” A smile had crawled its way onto Xu’s face, and under the harsh lighting in the streets, she could see the devilish intent in his eyes. “Oh, what a stupid bitch.”

“幹你娘, 王八蛋! (Fuck your mother, you bastard!) You can eat my shit and choke on it, Xu!”

A look of surprise caught on Xu’s face. “Wait, how the hell do you know Mandarin? Who exactly are you?”

At this point, Xiang-Dorothy-Mawaza was so filled with rage that instead of answering, she felt herself answer in a completely different voice before she could stop. “Call me Dorothy, Jinjing Xu. I’m here to put an end to your gig.”

Finally landing a good kick on Gao, his grip faltered, and she used this time to rip the wig off and go for Xu. Pulling out the knife that she brought from Estia’s kitchen, she tried slicing at the neck of Xu. He was barely able to sidestep her but ended up tripping on the uneven pavement and was sent flying down on his ass. Gripping the weapon in her dominant hand, she started walking towards him once more, calling out to him in that unfamiliar voice.

“C’mon, Xǔ. You’ve had a woman probably fight back harder than this? If you pay me enough, maybe I won’t have to dig this in your back…” It was an exhilarating feeling, putting her all into a performance that may be enough to scare him away. The terrified look on Xǔ’s face was not enough to pay back for her personal vendetta against him. It wasn’t just about getting back for her sake. It was also about getting back for Niji’s sake, for Abby’s sake, for all the women that he had wronged. She was going to milk every last penny out of this man until he was bankrupt.

Taking one more step, Xiang-Dorothy-Mawaza felt a hand grip her wrist. Looking back, she saw a balled-up fist one second before it smashed into her face. Her vision went dark, circles suddenly appearing in her vision as she suddenly found herself also on the floor. Looking to the side, she saw the grinning face of Xǔ staring back at her as he lunged at her, pushing himself up to the top before resting his hands at her throat.

“Thanks for that, Gao. I’m gonna need a couple of minutes to make sure that this one doesn’t see the light of the next morning.” Xiang-Dorothy-Mawaza could feel his grimy hands slowly clasp themselves around her neck, ready to take the life from her. “Well, Dorothy, I hope you learn to control yourself in the next life.”

“I think you’ve done enough harm in this lifetime. I hope hell is hot enough for you.”

BANG!

The body on top of her suddenly dropped to the side, the pressure of his hands slowly fading away in strength as his lifeless body slumped to the floor. Xiang-Dorothy-Mawaza lay down on the floor, stock-still in shock. Wait, did someone just shoot him? Did someone just… kill Xǔ?

Looking at the corpse of Xǔ, she could see a single bullet had made its way into his head and cleanly out the other side, a small puddle of blood forming underneath his head. His face was one of self-satisfaction, as if he hadn’t heard the voice behind him before he was sent to the other side. Feeling rather disgusted at being straddled by a corpse, Xiang-Dorothy-Mawaza glanced up at the light and tilted her head in confusion.

“Wait, what are you doing here?”

Edamura ran through the empty streets of Cape Town, desperately trying to track down Abby. Her GPS had been turned off, she wasn’t responding to his texts, nothing! That damn Xu, he should have realized he was going to go after her since he was so interested! Fuck, now what was he going to do…

Running past the murky pier, Edamura noticed a lone figure standing at the edge of the dock. Usually he wasn’t so interested in the shady people who may want to mug him in the middle of the night but right now, he was freaking out and he needed to find out where Abby was. He had already texted Cynthia, Laurent, Kudo, Shi-Won, and the rest of the crew, but they had yet to triangulate her position. He had to ask around.

“Um, excuse me! Have you happened to see a young Arabic woman with two Asian men pass by here recently?”

The figure turned around, and Edamura visibly paled, finally seeing who it was that was all alone on the pier.

It was the one person he had hoped to avoid at all costs ever since Niji got found out: Laurent. In his hand was a bottle of wine, and in the other was a coffee bag, the contents spilling out. It seemed like he was emptying the beans into the ocean without a care in the world, the brown nubs trickling out of the bag onto the dock. Upon seeing Edamura, however, he stopped what he was doing and began speed-walking towards him.

“Laurent, what are you doing? Why are you throwing away my beans? Have you seen Abby?”

The man in front of him paid no heed to his questions as he continued his gait towards him, seemingly one-track minded in his pursuit. Once he reached Edamura, he dropped the bottle of wine, the glass shattering as it hit the floor, and reached out his arms to him. Edamura, not quite realizing what was happening, held out his arms apprehensively as the taller male enveloped him in a hug. A shiver ran through Edamura as he noticed how frigidly cold Laurent was.

“Um, Laurent, are you… good? Have you been drinking?”

“She’s alive.”

Oh fuck. Edamura tried his best not to freeze up in the moment and gripped Laurent even harder.

“Oh, is she? Where is she now?” Strangely enough, Edamura felt Laurent hold him even closer at that. On his shoulder, a wetness began to form. A warm hand started caressing his back, trembling and so unlike the firm hold that the con artist usually held.

“I-I don’t know. I just know she’s alive.” Edamura could do nothing but stand there and assume who it was that he found out was alive was Dorothy. It was relieving on his end to know that he wasn’t the one who had to break the news to him, but all he could wonder was- “Apparently, Estia said that she was in the area for the time being. And when I went to check on her, calling Niji confirmed it all. Under another name, at that.”

A shiver went down Edamura’s chest as he tried to gulp in more air. “Under another name? How do you know-”

“I know because this person Estia described to me has her ring. Her ring, Edamame! The one I threw out into the ocean all those years ago. It’s fate.” A warbled laugh escaped Laurent, echoing against Edamura's neck as the Frenchman tried to bury himself deeper into the crook. It was like Laurent was trying to escape reality and fuse himself with Edamura, to try and escape the pain of coming to terms with the fact that his ex-fiancée was not dead.

Wait a damn moment. Xiang-Dorothy was supposed to still be in Taipei. What the hell is she doing in Cape Town?! Did she follow them here? Did she lie about not wanting to come? Oh, that secretive bitch!

“ She is alive, then. Isn’t that good?”

“...”

“...”

“...”

A bit perturbed by the silence, Edamura looked up to face Laurent, who had taken his face away from his neck. In an instant, he wanted to bury his face back into his chest if only to avoid the look that was piercing into his face.

Laurent’s eyes were bloodshot red from crying and drinking, mixing in a unsettling, horrific way. No gentle smile could be seen across his features, and what had replaced it was a thousand-yard stare with the most distraught look in his eyes that could be interpreted. His bottom lip was trembling as if he was a second away from breaking down and crying even harder. He had never seen the man without something more than mere flirtatiousness and amusement in his expressions, so this was a sight not to behold.

“I-Is it good? I don’t know, to be quite honest. I’ve spent the last decade resigning to the fact that the previous love of my life was dead at the bottom of the ocean floor and the current love of my life was going to reject me forever. I would have been happy with that as long as I died before you, knowing that I spent my whole life in the company of someone I cherished.” Laurent looked down at the bottle of wine in one hand and the bag of coffee in the other.

“I thought I would have been happy. I came here to test something out. I emptied this entire bottle into the ocean as an offering to whatever God was out there to see if my previous love was going to come out and come back to me. That was an hour ago.” 

Resting his head on Edamura’s, he looked at the bag of coffee. “Barely a minute ago, I started dropping coffee into the ocean as an offering to whatever God was out there to see if my current love was going to appear to me. If you didn’t appear, I would have been done for. But here you are. It has to be a sign…” Growing a bit uncomfortable at the delusions of Laurent, Edamura tried to inch his way out of his grasp. The grip on him grew tighter as a mouth inched towards his ear.

“Edamame. Did you know that Dorothy was alive?”

It was the end of the road. Laurent was soon to find out, and Edamura was going to end up like the other coffee beans in the ocean, dead as can be, for keeping the information that Xiang-Dorothy had been alive the entire time. However, there was one more option that he could do.

He could lie. He could say that Niji was lying and that the one who had set everything up was Shi-Won. He could lie and tell him that there is no way that the woman whom he had been described to by Estia was Dorothy (even though he suspected that it actually was that woman). There were always the lies that he could attempt to keep up to dissuade the reality that his lover really was alive and somewhere out there. He was a conman after all, and he had lied to Laurent’s face before, right before he betrayed Suzaku. It was as simple as that.

“Yes, I did.”

But he was never really that good at lying to someone that he loved .

It was something that he had tried not to think too deeply on until Edamura was told the lie about being a husband to Laurent. Yes, it was something that Laurent easily came up with on the spot but it stuck in Edamura’s mind. Knowing that Laurent’s past consisted of his fiancée's ‘drowning’ at the end of a con and that staying with him the rest of his life made Edamura sympathise a lot more with his trauma. He never would have considered that the man would truly move on from that until he brought up that he and Edamura were husbands to another person. Sure, it could have been another lie in the heat of the moment. But in the past 7 years that he has known Laurent, he has learned to differentiate whether or not he truly has his heart set on something. And hearing the sigh of joy that was uttered from his lips when he mentioned married life, he knew that all he wanted was someone to love again.

And Edamura was willing to look back on all the times that Laurent had chased him with a new perspective. All those times that he had been in another country drinking another cup of coffee, the call from the annoying ‘Belgian’ idiot asking to provide company was a way of him saying that he was interested in his hobbies. To take time from his life and invest in what may or may not be another tragedy because he loved him. That is the dedication that allowed Edamura to see him in that light.

“Yes, I did. And I'm so sorry for not telling you.”

A light coo escaped Laurent as he pecked the top of Edamura's head. “Edamame, my little soybean. Please do not feel apologetic for trying to keep me calm. If anything, the time spent with you on this adventure has soothed my fury at your betrayal.” Laurent kissed his forehead softly, sighing happily. “Granted, her being alive is both a boon and a bane. I am grateful that she was able to survive a gunshot wound, but knowing that she had avoided me for so long, that my loneliness has molded my every move, is heart-wrenching. I don’t know why she did this, but I will never forget the joy she had brought me.”

“But I have you now, and I will ensure that you and Niji will be happy together.” Once again, Edamura tensed up and looked at Laurent’s face, which had turned from a familiar soft smile to a forced grimace.

“Um, Laurent, I appreciate the gesture, but I assure you-”

“Thank you for appreciating the gesture, mon amor ! Once I found out that she was named Niji, it cleared up a lot of suspicions on my end! I assume that this Xiangxiang is supposed to be... yes, well, now I have a motivation of my own to make sure that Xǔ is not only drained of all of his assets but all of his victims are personally found and given retributions. It’s the least I can do for her…”

Edamura could see that Laurent was lost in thought once more and decided to take a look at the bag of coffee that he chose to sacrifice for his sake. Almost immediately, he snatched the bag of coffee away.

“You idiot! What the hell do you think you’re doing dumping my kopi luwak into the ocean?!?”

“Ah, Makoto , do not fret! I was actually doing you a favor by throwing those out. I understand that you know those beans are partially digested, and there are many better coffees out there to buy. I remember the mix from Belize was exquisite.” Edamura wrapped his arm around the taller man’s neck, intent on making the stupid man pay.

“Those were a gift, you dolt! Those were meant for Estia, and I’m gonna make sure you remember that!”

Laurent began to laugh again, but suddenly stood up, a bit more serious than before. “Wait, what were you doing here so late at night? Shouldn’t you be done talking with Xu?” 

Edamura immediately released his grip on Laurent, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment. “Ah, sorry about that. Yes, I was done talking with Xǔ, but then I got a call from someone and had to step out. Because of that, Abby and them are gone!”

“Hmm, so they left? Seems like they intend to take Abby for themselves.” Laurent rubbed his chin thoughtfully, looking back at Edamura with a small scowl. “By this time, they might already be on a plane ride back to Taiwan.”

All Edamura could do at the moment was kick himself. He let one of his true friends get taken by a trafficker, and now he doesn’t know whether or not he’ll be able to get them back before something terrible happens to them. He reached for his phone again, desperate to see any news pop up. A lot of the text messages were useless, mostly saying how her GPS was off and that the last known location was at the bar. However, on the brink of his despair, a sole light shone through.

Just as he was about to put his phone away, a single text came his way from Kudo.

We found Abby. Coming back to the hotel.

Letting out a huge sigh of relief, Edamura began texting back at the speed of sound that he would also be on his way back to the hotel with a huge apology on hand and some medicine. Leaning back against Laurent, Edamura let out a strained sigh of relief, and a couple of tears fell out of his eyes.

“They found her, thankfully. Kudo just sent me a text.”

“So are we to head back to the hotel? I do have a couple of questions for everyone there because if I remember correctly, you, along with Kudo and Abb,y were also in contact with Dorothy?”

“Um, it’s better if you ask them yourself. Let’s also find a convenience store and get some medicine.”

Nodding along, Laurent grasped Edamura’s hand in his own, pressing his lips to it and winking. “Yes, let’s go right on.”

The way back to the hotel almost felt like Edamura and Laurent were interacting on one of Edamura’s coffee trips, light bantering and exasperated sighs being let out from the French man’s affections. However, Edamura was a lot more receptive to the touches than usual. He seemed to be pinching Laurent in more intimate places than usual and leaning into the cheek kisses more and more. Once they were back in the hotel, they went up the elevator and entered the communal planning room.

Inside, Kudo was sitting on the couch, talking to Niji. A sign to the right indicated a bedroom where Cynthia was currently working with Abby to check for internal and external injuries. Shi-Won was walking around handing out plates of food to everyone as Edamura and Laurent sauntered inside. Instantly, she was in front of Laurent and Edamura.

“There you two are! Everyone was about to make another call to see where you went, Laurent! Where did you go off to, looking for Abby by yourself?”

Laurent put his hands up in a surrender pose, smirking slightly to himself like he hadn’t been on the brink of despair mere moments before. “Ah, but I was just worried for Abby! I definitely should have let you all know what part of the city I would be exploring, my bad. Thank goodness Edamura was here to find me, or else I would have been mugged out of all my money!”

“And YOU!” Edamura felt a hand grip his ear, and he let out a hiss of pain. “You and I are going to have a long discussion about leaving girls alone with people who are known to be sex traffickers!”

This was the only warning Edamura got before he was tugged by his ear in the direction of Shi-Won’s hotel room, visibly hurting from the pain of his ear getting pulled. Kudo could be seen shaking his head while Niji looked visibly afraid for him. Laurent offered a quick wave and a sympathetic look, almost as if he had been on the receiving end of one of these lectures. The door to the communal room close,d and he was brought over to Shi-Won’s room a couple of rooms down.

“-ack, I get it! I’m sorry for leaving Abby! I can explain why, just give me a moment!”

“Get in here.” Finally, the grip on Edamura’s ear was released, and he was sent tumbling into a couch. Trying to reorient himself, he put his hand down on the couch and instantly recoiled once he felt the touch of someone’s thigh.

“Ack! I’m so-”

“Pay it no mind, Sasaki. Or should I say, Edamura?”

Sitting to his left, leaning and scrolling through his phone without a care in the world, was Xu’s bodyguard Zhihóng Gao. Slowly swiveling his head now to try and calm himself down, Edamura looked from left to right to see that there was another person also in this room.

Sitting at a dining table towards the middle of the room was an unfamiliar, unremarkable Asian man who was wearing a pinstriped suit that seemed to blend into the background. He was typing meticulously on a laptop, seemingly writing down something important. Casting his gaze to the right had him caught yet another surprise that he wasn’t yet expecting. Xiang-Dorothy sat on a cushioned chair, hands furled on her lap and gaze set straight. For the most part, it almost seemed as if she was restraining herself from doing something and needed to keep her utmost focus on it.

The entire set-up seemed so absurd that Edamura had to stop himself from bursting out in confusion, rehearsing his words in his mind so he wouldn’t look like a bumbling fool. After going through a couple of seconds of practice, he carefully let out a response to the situation.

“I don’t know what’s going on here, so I can only assume that another con has taken place. However, this con is being orchestrated by someone in this room since I don’t know you-” he stated, pointing at the unknown man, “-while I know you should be with Xu. Xiang-Dorothy looks like she’s going to pop a vein sitting there any longer so… Shi-Won.”

“Mhmm?”

“You’re the true mastermind behind this con, aren’t you?”

In all the years Edamura had known Shi-Won Kim, she was someone that he had heard a lot about and also knew nothing at all about. She was a seasoned veteran like Laurent and just as, if not even more, conniving as her protege. Her contributions to other cases made her a mainstay on Team Confidence, and her reputation preceded her as a honeypot seductress. From their interactions, she was the wisened mentor to them all. And right here, right now, Edamura was scared for his life. He knew from the current look in her eye, the cold, calculating look of a woman hardened by the industry, that she had been planning this the entire time. And he might have messed up a little bit.

A big smile found its way onto Shi-Won’s face as she leaned back onto another couch, crossing her legs. Her posture was one of power and exuded confidence, like she had done this all before. “Ah, Edamura, you seem to have finally figured it out. Yes, I am the one pulling the strings. Now let me spin a tale for you. One that should fill in the details for you.”