Chapter Text
Who needed an alarm clock when they could have a yowling cat in their face begging for food every morning? Momo Ayase had always felt that way, and yet she still thought the alarm clock was necessary. As she raised her head to try to reach for her phone to turn the alarm off, her lovely feline companion turned her body around to present her derriere. If this didn't happen every day, Momo might have been annoyed. In all fairness, Momo was annoyed, but only because she was forced to wake up.
Five months had gone by, and Momo had a good grasp of her walking path. Her cat would attempt to trip her multiple times before sprinting to the food bowl, as she had never been fed in her life. If Momo dared to make any detours, her kitty lungs would belt out the nastiest of meows, making Momo question why the cat distribution system chose her.
"I'm comin', Turbo!" Momo groaned in response, only for the cat to clap back with another meow like she was in pain.
One can of Feline Delicacy wet food later, Momo was finally free to continue her routine to ready herself for the day. One look in the fridge told her she forgot to get groceries again, so she'd have to eat out for breakfast. She moved on by dragging herself to the bathroom to put on her face. Wash, moisturize, apply makeup, and brush her hair. Last thing to do was figure out what to wear. Momo never struggled with choosing an outfit. Everything in her closet was the cream of the crop and matched her aesthetic. No matter what she would pick, she'd look cute and awesome.
Momo did one last look around the apartment before heading out. She made sure to make Turbo's cushion extra fluffy while she watched birds from the window, her water bowl filled to the top, and anything of importance hidden so she couldn't get her little paws on them. Momo double checked her bag to make sure everything she needed for the day was also in, and after three checks, away she went.
With a vanilla latte in one hand and an egg salad sandwich in the other, Momo made her way into the building that housed her place of employment. Employed for eight months now, Momo was in her career's infancy, making each step into the office more nerve-racking than the next. She was still fresh out of university, susceptible to making amateur mistakes that could end in termination, and God knows that would look bad on a resume if she dared try again.
Journalism was in her blood. At least, that's what Momo thought for the longest time. Since she could remember, Momo wanted to see her name in the newspaper headlines, covering the top stories that everyone had to read. As she grew older and went to school to study journalism, her tastes began to mature into something more refined. She became fascinated with the research aspect, gathering pieces of the puzzle to create nail-biting articles that had people buying newspaper subscriptions. She loved true crime, urban legends, and the occasional ghost story.
After graduation, her portfolio and gung-ho determination landed her a position with Kamigoe City's local newspaper, The Kamigoe Post. It wasn't glamorous or anything to brag about, but it was her foot in the door. As long as she worked her tail off, perhaps someone who worked for one of the big newspaper companies would run into her articles and whisk her away to a life of journalism luxury, whatever that was. Momo wasn't sure. At the most, she'd have bragging rights and physical proof of her genius.
As Momo sat down at her desk and set her breakfast next to her work-issued computer, she took a deep breath to compose herself. Nobody was actively trying to force her out, and her things weren't in boxes, so that was a good start. She turned the computer o,n and she was able to login with her company-issued username. Also good. She smiled, knowing she'd survive another day. In fact, perhaps this was the day she'd finally get her big break. Her manager was going to assign her a new project today, and if she liked her previous work, maybe now Momo would finally have a shot at her passion. Enthusiastically, Momo took a bite out of her sandwich. She was going to rock it!
"Miss Ayase, there's a possible scandal going around regarding the idol, Yuukirinrin," her manager said as she kept her eyes glued to her computer, allowing the screen's brightness to almost completely shield her from Momo's view. "Supposedly, she's in a love affair with one of her security guards. Find out the details and have the article on my desk before you leave tonight. The earlier, the better. That way, we can publish it on our website before anyone else."
"Uh…Yes, ma'am."
Momo left her boss's office defeated and dejected. If she didn't want to risk losing her job and reputation, she'd yell her frustrations to the office and tell everyone how unfair the system was. She didn't go to school just to write tabloid slop! She wanted to get into the nitty-gritty about crime and corruption! Was a small village really cursed, or was there a logical explanation behind the disappearance of its people? Unless this idol's bodyguard turned out to secretly be a murderer trying to hide in Japan, she did not care! Just how long was she stuck researching g and writing this garbage until she'd finally get a chance to be taken serious?
Momo landed in her swivel chair with a loud thud, now not caring about those around her staring. Her neighbors at her desk knew all too well about her frustrations and had been in her shoes when they were new to the company.
Gossip and tabloid articles were almost always given to the new staff, as if they were trying to ween out the weak. Information changes constantly, so one credible source could be outdated or proven wrong within five minutes. The choice between putting an article out before anyone else or waiting to get all the facts and being last was always difficult. Nobody wanted inaccuracy, but by the time the truth was revealed, the world moved on to something else.
Regardless, it was all garbage to Momo. None of it was real news, and it didn't have an ounce of integrity she expected from journalism. However, as Momo opened up her word processing program on her computer, flipped to an empty page in her notebook, and started up the internet browser, she reminded herself that this was just a job. She just needed to power through, and then she'll be on her way to properly chase her dream.
Momo was familiar with popular idols and celebrities before being tossed into the world of gossip journalism. She had her moments of enjoying music, movies, and television shows, and the same names would reappear in the headlines until the newest star took over. She, of course, had a celebrity crush that was leagues better than any idol or current actor, but she dared not let anyone know, or else she'd be forced to share his greatness with others not worthy of him. Besides, thinking of him only made researching Yuukirinrin even more frustrating because instead of going through videos and gossip forums about her, Momo could be watching someone far more impressive. Someone far more important. A strong, silent man with an awkward side to himself.
Someone who went by the name of Ken Takakura.
Momo groaned as she finally slipped on her special pair of glasses, blocking the painful blue light glowing from her computer. Daydreaming about the perfect man wasn't going to get her anywhere. It was time to start researching these rumors about Yukirinrin. She knew about the idol, though never followed her or her music. Momo decided to listen to a couple of her songs to understand her better, and had to admit she had some talent. Of course, however, with every popular idol, there seemed to be some sort of scandal around the corner. Nobody was exempt from this, not even Yukirinrin.
Usually, a journalist would want to conduct an interview to get the facts directly from the source. With Yukirinrin being an idol and Momo a nobody, that was never going to happen. Momo had to conduct her research through dozens, if not hundreds, of internet forums, blogs, fan videos, and leaked footage of Yukirinrin just to determine if these rumors between her and her security guard were true.
The so-called evidence of their secret relationship was a fuzzy security camera recording of what appeared to be Yukirinrin running up to and kissing a bulky man twice her size. Though with the quality of the footage, the supposed kiss looked like two colors mixed together like paint on a canvas. The recording also ended abruptly, as if the leaker cut it off before something else happened. Momo felt something was off about the video, as if this were an attempt to make Yukirinrin look bad. That, or she had watched way too many detective movies and unintentionally started roleplaying as a sleuth.
She wondered if others had caught onto how sketchy the footage was, so she began to dig through the net, searching and uncovering multitudes of theories and rumors about a woman she had never met in her life. The sharp lead in her pencil dulled frequently with each note she jotted down in her notepad, making sure not to leave any important points out. If she was going to write some stupid article about an idol, she was going to make this the stupid article about an idol. By the end of this, nobody would look at her as an inferior journalist, meant only for tabloid slop. She was meant for the front page.
Her boss did say she wanted the article before Momo left. In all fairness, it may have been eight at night, but she had yet to leave. Unfortunately, Momo was an overachiever. When it came to researching and writing, she would lose herself in her own world where only she, the computer, and her notebook existed. Not even the concept of time was allowed in. At least her assignment would be over soon once she hit the print button. Then, once she returned to work in the morning, after seeing her as too good for gossip writing, her boss would have no choice but to promote her!
The moment she clicked the button and stood from her chair, Momo's phone rang. Her stomach dropped to the floor when she finally glanced at the clock. Thanks to work, she once again stood her boyfriend up on a date. She looked at her phone, and sure enough, he was calling her, likely angry.
"Hey!" Momo greeted after answering the phone. She tried her best not to display any shame or guilt in her voice. She thought if she acted cute and ignorant, she'd be off the hook.
"Our date was thirty minutes ago," a gruff, immature voice said on the other line. "Where are ya?"
"Oh, I'm so, so sorry! I got held up at work again." Momo started grabbing random items from her desk and throwing them in her bag to take home with her. You know how deadlines can be, but don't worry, I'm heading right out the door!"
"Nah, forget it!" her boyfriend snapped. "You're no girlfriend! You're always working, flaking out on dates!"
"Okay, yeah, I've sucked. I'll make it up to you. I promise. Just give me another chance."
There was a pause on the phone for a couple of seconds. "I guess if ya meet me at a love hotel tonight, I could probably forgive ya. With how much ya work, you don't mind payin' for it, ya?"
Momo muted the microphone on her phone so she could let out the biggest sigh since graduating college. She'd only been dating this guy a couple of months now, yet every chance he got, he'd try to shatter her boundaries and mooch off her salary. Only one creature was allowed to do that, and that creature was likely planting a hairball in Momo's apartment.
"Screw you, squid-for-brains!"
She hung up the phone in a fit of rage. If not for the fragile device in her hand, she might have slammed both fists on her desk and roared like the fiercest dragon thought up by man. Instead, Momo opted to screech like a banshee for a couple of seconds, stop abruptly, then pack up the rest of her things before finally heading out the door.
If it were not for her friends pushing her, Momo would have likely stayed home, wrapped herself in a blanket, lain on the couch with Turbo, and watched Ken Takakura movies until she fell asleep. Momo never took breakups well, even if she was the one initiating said breakup. Her best friends since middle school, Miko and Muko, knew this well and made sure she was out socializing, reducing the chance of Momo melting into a depressive puddle and skipping work until she lost her job.
It wasn't the perfect girl's night; Muko was stuck behind the bar serving drinks to other patrons and was often whisked away, but every time she returned, it was as if she never left. She kept her ears open and signaled into Momo and Miko's like a radio broadcast, and made sure to jump in whenever she figured her touch of personality was needed, as well as a drink. How she managed to become a professional at the art of bartending, Momo had no clue. Regardless, she welcomed the company of her best friends.
Momo stared at her reflection in the pool of beer captured in a small glass. She wasn't one to drink during weekdays, but she made exceptions for going out with colleagues, special events, and now breakups. This being her first breakup since turning twenty, Momo figured this would be another rite of passage. The whole idea of drinking to drown sorrows felt stupid to her, and Momo ended up drinking more of her water than anything else.
"I can't believe he turned out to be a scumbag," Momo grumbled into the bar.
"I can," replied Miko as she stirred her drink with her finger. "Muko and I both knew he was bad news."
Muko slid her body back to the girls. "I even told you not to go out with him," she said. "You always trust a bartender's intuition."
"Muko, you were still training when I met him. You couldn't properly mix a Cosmopolitan yet."
"Doesn't matter, because I was still right." A customer waved Muko down, and off she went.
Momo looked around the bar, her eyes glued to the few couples sitting at tables or up dancing to music. Sometimes she spotted some poor soul getting hit on, reminding her of the night she met her ex. He was one to stand out in a crowd, not for his looks, but for how he presented himself. He slouched his body like a high school delinquent. When he'd straighten his back, the man would flex his arms, revealing a decent amount of muscle that had Momo's heart beating.
Then there was his face. It was like he was sculpted by the same angel who crafted her celebrity crush. She couldn't help but do a double-take the first time she laid eyes on him. Then, when he caught her staring, he smirked and walked her way, and Momo almost fainted. She couldn't believe the gods had gifted her a Ken Takakura to call her own! She was the luckiest woman to ever live!
At least that's what she thought until now. Unfortunately, the signs of him being a womanizing sleazeball were there from the start, but Momo willingly ignored them. He claimed Momo's job as a journalist was interesting, but forgot what she did soon after. He constantly made remarks about Momo's appearance and how she was "lucky she was hot." When she wanted him to meet her grandmother, he shut the idea down instantly. After every date, it seemed he wanted to go further than kissing when Momo didn't want that. All the signs were there, yet Momo made excuses for them all. Perhaps her tendency to stay late at work was her subconscious doing everything it could to keep her away from him.
"Whatever, enough about him," Miko said before taking a sip of her drink. "What kept you late at work this time?"
Momo sighed, then finally took a drink of beer. "Another idol rumor."
"Seriously? Those are dime a dozen."
"Readers eat news like that as if it were candy."
"I'll say. So who was this one about?"
"This one girl who calls herself Yukirinrin."
"Oh, I heard of her!" Muko gasped after returning from helping other customers. "Lemme guess, the security guard rumor? Whoever made that up is desperate for attention."
"You know about the rumor?" asked Momo.
"Yeah, it's all over my social media feed. It only started 'cause Yukirinrin isn't handsy with many people, and suddenly she's jumping at the guard."
"Maybe a crazy fan snuck backstage," suggested Miko.
"That's what I thought," agreed Momo. "The footage was cut off abruptly, like the leaker was hiding something."
"Girl, tell me you included that in your article."
"Of course I did!"
"Now that I think about it," Muko said as if in her own world, "Yukirinrin has more chemistry with that pianist that she works behind the scenes with. Now that would be a more interesting rumor."
"I couldn't care less," said Momo. "Unless the piano was part of an elaborate crime."
"There she goes again," said Miko. "Our girl, Momo, wants to be a true crime reporter like eighty percent of the earth."
"It's better than gossip."
"She's got a point, Miko," noted Muko as she worked on a cocktail for a customer. "Gossip writers are usually the bottom of the barrel for journalists, if you can call them that. Almost always, they're making stuff up and leading headlines with clickbait titles."
"I'm also interested in more than just writing about crime. I like mysteries and myths, remember? I could tell the world about amazing stories from villages long forgotten or something!"
"Sure, sure," said Miko. "You've got great ideas, babe, but I'm not the one you should be convincing."
"I don't know how to convince my boss. I tried asking my coworkers how they got out of the gossip column, but they weren't of help. They just said one day they were assigned something different, and gossip stories were thrown to interns." Momo groaned as she unceremoniously slammed her head on the bar. "I'm not an intern, and yet they have me working this crap."
"Then persuade them with your writing," suggested Muko.
"Persuasive writing was my weak point," excused Momo. "Not sure how I'm gonna pull that off."
"Well, better figure it out, or you'll be writing about idol scandals for who knows how long. Maybe even the rest of your life."
"Hah?" screeched Momo. "There's no way I'd be writing gossip for the rest of my life!"
"Maybe you will, maybe you won't. Guess you'd better get learning how to write persuasively."
"Girls, I hate to be the downer," Miko said, her body turned to the front door of the building, "but dickhead is here."
Momo snapped her head in the same direction as Miko's. She could spot her ex-boyfriend's stupid, look-alike face anywhere. He had walked in with a couple of his friends, wearing a stupid grin on his face like his relationship with Momo meant nothing. In retrospect, Momo realized perhaps that's how he honestly felt. It angered her more than she already was.
He was laughing. The bastard lost the best relationship he'd likely ever have, and he was laughing. Why was he allowed to be joyous and carefree while Momo was gritting her teeth and sulking?
"Are you kidding me?" growled Momo. "Why the hell is he here?"
"Probably to hit on more women now that he's single. Ugh, I want to wipe that shit-eating grin off his face."
"I can kick him out," suggested Muko. "If I can't, then my boss can. She owes me a favor."
"I'm all for it. We were here first."
Momo groaned a simple, "No. I think I'm gonna get going anyway."
"What?" asked Muko. "Momo, you don't have to leave 'cause of him."
"Totally," agreed Miko. "Let's kick him to the curb."
"It's fine," continued Momo as she stood from her seat. "It's getting late anyway, I have work in the morning, and I should make sure Turbo hasn't turned my place into her speedway."
Miko placed a hand on Momo's shoulder. "Momo-"
Momo faked her best smile. "I'll be fine. Don't worry about me. I'll text you when I'm home."
She didn't allow her friends to protest further as Momo made her way to the exit. Desperately, she kept her gaze away from her ex, knowing if she caught sight of him, or if he called her out, she'd be ready with a spin kick to his face. Therapeutic as it may have sound, Momo just wanted to go home. As she opened the door and stepped into the chilly night, she left the bar without a single acknowledgement.
The walk home wasn't eventful, which is what Momo wanted. Once she got to her apartment, unlocked the door, and pushed it open, she was ready to collapse on the floor, her batteries drained. Sleeping in the walkway seemed like a good idea until Turbo yowled for dinner. Momo swore she fed the spoiled cat before she left to meet her friends, but at this point, she didn't care if she did or not. If Turbo wanted food, she could have it. She could eat the entire pantry if she so desired.
With the last of her strength, Momo made it to the kitchen to refill Turbo's bowl with dry food. Before putting the bag away, she stared at it, contemplating the purpose of keeping it away from her feline companion. Too tired to think any further, Momo decided to leave the bag open, free for Turbo to snack on as she wished. Perhaps if the cat put on weight, she'd be less likely have zoomies in the middle of the night.
After changing into her low-effort pajamas, a random shirt, and sweatpants, Momo opted to slump on the sofa and continue her breakup routine — a Ken Takakura movie marathon until she passed out from exhaustion. Not only were his films the pinnacle of cinematography, but Ken Takakura was also what kept Momo believing there had to be some good men out in the world. She hadn't found one yet, but at least she had some eye candy in the meantime.
Momo didn't last through the first movie before succumbing to slumber's sweet embrace. At least with her out for the count, the horrible day concluded, and a new day was dawning.
She slept past her alarm. Momo woke up in a daze, sprawled out along her sofa, jolted into a panic the moment she realized her alarm didn't wake her. To make things stranger, Turbo decided not to do her morning scream. Scrambling to get up, Momo yanked her phone off the coffee table, confirming she indeed slept through it, though thankfully only by a little. If she rushed out the door faster than she ever had, it's likely she would make it to work on time.
Hollering profanities as she raced to her room to get changed, Momo still saw no sign of her feline companion. It wasn't until she was properly dressed and standing in the kitchen that she saw the almost pure-white cat engorging herself inside the bag of dry cat food Momo left out the previous night.
"Guess that explains why you didn't wake me," grumbled Momo as she snagged a protein shake from the fridge. She didn't have time to stop at the store for breakfast, so the drink would have to suffice.
By some miracle, Momo managed to get to work within record time. She was still cutting it close to when she needed to be there, but as long as her foot was in the door, Momo figured she'd be fine. She threw herself into the large building and made a break for the stairs as the elevator wasn't nearly fast enough. The publisher's office was on the third floor. She could make it!
Once she hit the third floor, Momo swung the door open and bulldozed herself into the hallway, not paying attention to what was in front of her. Momo was forcibly stopped in her tracks after colliding with the unfortunate soul who happened to be walking in her direction. The timing was impeccable, as if the universe was telling Momo she wasn't allowed to get to work on time. She really wanted to yell at whoever got in her way and demand they owe her whatever money got deducted from her pay for being late, but the moment she opened her eyes to see the damage in front of her, Momo was speechless.
In front of her was a man just about her height, panicking over a massive coffee stain on his white button-up. Momo connected the dots right away, and her anger quickly evolved into guilt. Sure, her day started off horribly, but she didn't need to make it bad for anyone else by spilling their entire drink onto their wardrobe.
"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" Momo exclaimed as she clapped her hands together and bowed. "I didn't mean to run into you like that! I had no idea you were there! I was just running late for work and I-" Momo cut herself off, not wanting to make any more excuses for her actions. "Are you okay?"
"It, it's fine," the guy replied with a whimper.
"No, it isn't! I ruined your shirt, and your coffee is gone!" Momo instinctively reached out for the man's arm. "Let me make it up to you! I can pay to get your shirt cleaned, or get you a new one! Maybe I can get you a new coffee? What about a new shirt and coffee?"
"No, no! It's fine, really! You said you're almost late for work, right? You should go. I'll be okay."
"I can't just leave you here-"
"Please, Miss! It's really not that big of a deal! Uh, um, I actually have somewhere to be, so let's just forget this all happened!"
"Impossible. I owe you one, but not this second! Soon!" Momo started to jog down the hall to the publisher's. "I guarantee it! If you need anything, just head to The Kamigoe Post and ask for Momo Ayase!"
Momo wasn't sure how she managed to make it to work on time, but she wasn't complaining too much. What was most important was that she was there, and her pay wasn't going to get deducted for sleeping past her alarm. As she sat down at her desk and turned her computer on, Momo was soon greeted with the article she wrote the previous day appearing on the newspaper's webpage. This wasn't anything new; The Kamigoe Post often had gossip columns off to the side on the front page in hopes of getting clicks. She was just surprised to see the article already finished without the need for edits.
A quick skim through the article, and Momo immediately noticed something was wrong. Edits to her writing were indeed made, just not in ways she would have appreciated. While the article's conclusion stayed the same — the rumored love affair assumed false, Momo's added commentary of how baseless rumors should not spread and how human beings had better things to do than speculate over a famous person's love life, was omitted. Everything that made Momo's writing specifically hers was scrubbed clean; only a bare-bones article remained.
All she could do was stare at her monitor until her vision blurred. She didn't feel anger, sadness, or anything. She worked hard to write her findings and create a thinkpiece of the idol industry at the same time, but it amounted to nothing. If she had known her hard work didn't mean a single thing, she would have left work at an earlier time, and she may have still been in a relationship! She wouldn't have stayed up late, overslept, then ruined an innocent person's day by knocking their coffee into their shirt.
In hindsight, Momo would almost have preferred getting her pay docked and staying with the guy she bulldozed into than to show up on time to see her work tarnished. She wondered how he was doing and if he didn't get in trouble at his workplace. Momo had never seen him before, so she assumed he worked at a different company that rented space in the same building. However, with the little time she was able to take a look at him, he didn't appear to be a person who would stand out. His hair was jet black and messy, his eyes brown and shielded by large, round-frame glasses. If she tried to ask for someone like that, it wouldn't be enough to find him. Momo hoped she'd see him again, only to make up for her carelessness.
Momo was thrown out of her daze when she heard her boss call for her. Dread filled her stomach, making her want to vomit. She was planning on asking her why Momo's writing was cut to something boring, but Momo wasn't looking forward to the answer. After taking a couple of deep breaths, Momo stood up and walked down the path to her boss, her coworkers glancing at her.
It seemed like every time Momo walked into Miss Reiko Kashima's office, she was either focused on whatever was on her computer or staring at herself in the desk mirror, reapplying her makeup. Today, she was fixated on the mirror, applying mascara and taking her sweet time with it. Why she had the nerve to reapply makeup right now, Momo could only assume was to intimidate. Miss Kashima knew she was the boss and made sure to flaunt it.
"Ah, Miss Ayase," she said without looking away from the mirror. "Glad you're here."
"Ma'am," Momo replied, followed by a bow, "before we continue, I wanted to ask what happened to my article I turned in. I noticed that many parts of my writing were left out."
"Oh, that." Miss Kashima rolled her eyes. "Darling, the assignment was to confirm or debunk the rumors, not give an editorial about stardom. You debunked the rumor with the evidence provided, and that was all that was needed. Adding a discussion about corruption and falsified evidence made the whole thing bloated, so I did what was needed to trim the fat."
Momo tried her hardest not to scowl at her boss. Even though it appeared like the vain woman wasn't looking at Momo, Reiko Kashima could definitely see anything Momo did.
"With all due respect," Momo was now struggling to keep her anger in check, resorting to biting the inside of her cheek to stop, "celebrity gossip isn't my best work. If I were given an assignment that matches my style, I promise heavy edits on my work wouldn't be necessary."
Finally, Miss Kashima looked at Momo, frowning. "Well, then, who would write the gossip column?"
"Someone who enjoys it?"
The older woman ran a hand through her long, jet black hair, as if she were showing off. "Miss Ayase, my dear, right now you're the youngest journalist we have. You're way more in touch with the hottest trends than anyone here, except me, of course. Really, there's nobody else who could do your job. Everyone here is a step in the ladder of success, and a ladder is broken if there's a missing step."
"You saw my portfolio!" snapped Momo. "You've seen my strengths! If you could just give me a chance-"
Miss Kashima snapped back. "I would like to remind you, Miss Ayase, that in the world of journalism, you don't get to pick your stories. You don't write what you like. You get your assignment from me, and you give me that assignment by the due date with no push back! If you think you're too good for this job, then get out."
Momo wanted to leave. She hated being yelled at. She also understood quitting now would make finding a new job near impossible, so Momo had no choice but to stand where she stood and take her licks.
After a few seconds of silence and Momo staying put, her boss leaned back in her chair and held a hand up to admire her own nails. "That's what I thought. Well, there aren't any big rumors we haven't covered yet, so I've decided you're going to write an article about a celebrity couple. Find a pair who dazzle the spotlight together. Write about how no matter the rumors or possible scandals, that love conquers all."
Momo gritted her teeth. "Which couple should I write about?"
"I'm sure you can figure one out. There, you have a somewhat different assignment. Now get going, dear, and don't say I never did anything for you." With a swift movement of her hand, Miss Kashima shooed Momo out of her office.
Back at her desk, Momo stared at her computer. The Internet browser was opened, waiting to take her to wherever she commanded. However, she didn't know where to go. Momo felt drained, unable to find the energy to lift a finger and begin researching a famous couple that were supposedly perfect for one another.
What would one consider a perfect couple, anyway? Momo once thought she knew, but her recent breakup told her otherwise. What she assumed was her dream boyfriend turned to be a nightmare. To make things worse, she was blind to his bad side. If Momo was that bad at judging character, how could she possibly find a perfect couple and write about them? No doubt her boss was setting her up to fail, hiding it behind a supposed "special assignment."
Minutes turned to hours, and in the blink of an eye, the work day was over. Momo barely got any research done. She spent hours trying to find a couple, spent her lunch break watching gossip videos on Bootube, then tried to at least start writing her article, making the language as generic as possible until she found her topic. Right away Momo knew this was her weakest work, and would have to go through multiple drafts to look presentable. If she so wanted, she could have stayed late to add some polish or research more, but she didn't want to stick around the stuffy office any longer.
As if things could get any worse, before Momo could leave the building, she noticed drops of water sliding down the glass doors. Walking up to the doors to see outside, Momo whined at the sight of rain pouring heavily down from the sky, and she managed to run out of her home without an umbrella. One step outside and she would be soaked from head to toe. Momo had no choice but to wait until the rain settled down, whenever that would be.
Quickly, Momo checked the weather on her phone, and almost screamed when she saw the rain wasn't predicted to let up until two in the morning. She cussed out whatever god or gods decided to screw with her life, and begged the universe to throw her a bone. She just wanted to go home, take care of Turbo, maybe order delivery, and then curl up into bed until her exhausted body finally caved in. At this point, Momo was ready to run out the door screaming until she found a convenience store where she could buy an umbrella. Sure she would be drenched, but at least her outside would finally match how she felt on the inside.
"Miss Momo Ayase!"
Momo looked behind her when she heard her name. Her mouth slightly parted when she saw the voice had come from the man she literally ran into that morning. He was jogging towards her, looking as if he never ran before. Once he finally caught up to her, the man hunched over to try and catch his breath. Momo wasn't much of a runner, but even her stamina wasn't as pathetic as his.
"Hey, you're that guy from earlier," Momo muttered, only to acknowledge his presence.
The man stood back up after a few more seconds of heavy breathing. He opened his mouth, ready to say something, only for nothing to come out. Nervously, he fidgeted with his glasses before finally turning his gaze away from her.
"A-are you headed home?" he asked, his voice cracking like a teenager's.
"I want to," she admitted, "but I forgot my umbrella, so I guess I'm stuck here."
"Oh, that's not good. I, uh, um, here." The man raised his right hand and presented to Momo a plain, clear umbrella. She took notice how he couldn't look her in the eyes. "You can borrow mine, if you want."
"What? No way! I couldn't, especially after this morning!"
Momo glanced down at the man's outfit. His blazer was buttoned up, but hints of the permanent coffee stains from his undershirt were still visible. Why he was going out of his way to offer his umbrella, Momo had no idea. He should be laughing at her!
"I insist. I, uh, I don't have that far to walk."
"No."
"Please."
So he was as stubborn as she was. Momo figured at the rate they were going, they'd argue over the umbrella until the rain ended. "I can just get an umbrella from the convenience store down the road. I'll only be in the rain for a little bit."
"Well, how about I walk with you to the store?"
That wasn't a bad idea. Momo was shocked she didn't think of that. "I guess we could," she replied matter-of-factly. "Alright, let's go."
"O-oh. Okay."
Momo watched as the man fumbled with the umbrella as if he never used it before. His face was beet red, either embarrassed he couldn't get it open, or nervous to be standing under an umbrella with a girl. Judging by his posture and consistent stuttering, he likely wasn't experienced with women. What rotten luck his possible first experience involved Momo painting his shirt with coffee, she thought.
He let out a gasp when the umbrella shot open, almost slapping him in the face. Momo tried her hardest not to laugh at him. There was something about his nervousness, combined with chivalry, that made him somewhat cute.
"Shall we?" he asked with a bit of shake in his voice.
With a hum, Momo walked under the umbrella, keeping a respectable distance, yet enough to feel his body heat radiating off him. She couldn't put her finger on it, but the feeling of standing next to him felt comfortable, as if they weren't strangers to each other hours ago. Momo had just admitted she was a bad judge of character, yet there was something in her mind that told her that he was a good guy. She didn't realize it, but Momo was smiling warmly at him, and she saw no reason to stop.
"Yeah, let's get outta here. I'm tired of standing around."
Walking with him down the block felt awkward at first. The man was trying his hardest to keep a firm grip on the handle of the umbrella, but Momo could tell he was shivering, likely from nerves. If she knew him better, Momo would put a hand on his shoulder and let him know he didn't need to be nervous, but touching him might make him crumble and drop the umbrella. However the awkward tension needed to end. Momo wasn't much for awkward silence.
"Are you okay?" asked Momo. "You're shaking."
"I am?" he replied.
"If you're nervous, you don't need to be."
"I'm, I'm not nervous," he lied.
"I really owe you big time," Momo said, changing the subject. "First I ruin your shirt, and now you're walking me to the store so I can get an umbrella. "
"It's okay. Accidents happen."
Once the two made it to the convenience store, Momo opted to push the door open for them. "I had a rough night," she admitted. "Ended up getting dumped, butit's whatever."
"I'm sorry." Momo's new companion closed the umbrella and shook the water off it.
"I'm over it. Hey, do you want a drink or snack? My treat."
"Oh, I'm okay."
"Come on, you don't have to be modest all the time. I'm getting something, so hit me up if you change your mind."
Momo walked to the back of the store, checking out the multitudes of drinks available. Meanwhile her new friend had made his way to the magazine rack. As she tried to pick something out, Momo couldn't stop thinking about him and how shy he was. He didn't seem keen on talking about himself, or talking at all. She wondered what kind of life he lived to make him this way.
She hadn't had a chance to get a good look at him until now. As he skimmed through the magazines, Momo noticed how he hunched his back and continuously adjusted his glasses each time they slid down his nose. His hair was messy, looking like he hadn't combed it in days. The one thing going for him was his bright brown eyes, a color that normally didn't dazzle her.
If Momo were still a teenager in high school, she may have assumed him to be a shut-in nerd who came off as a creep, obsessed with whatever interested him. Unfortunately she could see him being bullied by more popular students. Considering how he had been kind to her from the start, alongside feeling comfortable standing by him under an umbrella, Momo now understood he was likely the quiet type of nerd who kept to himself. She kind of pitied him, and wondered if he had friends.
Quickly she grabbed two bottles of juice and made her way towards the nerd. Even if he continued to refuse the drink, Momo would shove it down his throat if it meant repaying him for his kindness, if only by a little. Standing next to him, she saw him flipping through an occult magazine. He believed in aliens and conspiracy theories? Better that than anime girls and teenage idols, Momo supposed.
"Do you believe this stuff?" Momo asked.
The man was so lost in the magazine, he didn't realize Momo was next to him. He yelped and the book slipped out of his hands. Momo was quick enough to grab it before hitting the floor. Curiously, she flipped through the pages, only looking at the pictures of terrible Photoshop jobs of cryptids and UFOs.
"Yes," the nerd replied quietly. "Lots of evidence these days point to aliens existing. In fact, the U.S. government has officially acknowledged the existence of UFOs-I mean UAPs."
"Really now? Can't say I've heard that one."
Finally he looked at Momo with shock and awe in his eyes. "Are you also into the occult, Miss Ayase?"
Momo handed the book back to him. "Nah. I don't actually believe in that junk. There might be little amoeba or something out in space, but little green men bent on invading Earth? The writers in these magazines are either crazy or making up stuff to be entertaining."
The man turned away from Momo, all hope gone from his face. She almost felt bad for ruining the thing that made him happy, but the sooner he was brought back into reality, the better off he'd be.
"Hey, it's cool. Maybe one day we might find a planet with fish or-"
"You shouldn't talk about occult journalists like that when you're nothing but a gossip columnist."
"HAH?!" screeched Momo. "You son of a bitch, how did you know about that?"
"You told me your name and you work for The Kamigoe Post! I assumed you were a journalist so I looked you up!"
"You. Me. Outside."
Momo stormed away from the nerd so she could pay for the drinks and umbrella before their bickering kicked them out of the store. Once she walked out, she stood by the entrance to ambush the poor nerd. The moment he walked out (he bought that stupid magazine), Momo grabbed him by the collar of his coffee-stained shirt, and yanked him to her.
"For the record, you twerp, don't you dare call me a columnist! I am a goddamn journalist!"
"Journalists don't waste their time on rumors," he argued. "I would know, since I happen to be one."
Momo laughed. "You, a journalist? Don't make me laugh!"
From his shopping bag, the nerd pulled out the cursed occult magazine. "See for yourself! I work for The Phenomena Codex, a highly reputable magazine."
"Reputable to what? Two readers?"
"I bet if you read a single paragraph of my articles, you'd be convinced aliens are real!"
"Is that so?" Momo snatched the book from his hands. "Alright, bet."
"Page twenty," he instructed.
With a huff, Momo flipped through the pages until she got to his article. The article had to do with what humans knew about aliens so far, and what was confirmed true or false. Momo sneered as she thought the title was somewhat interesting to catch any idiots attention. She read each sentence carefully, if only to humor him. The way he wrote was simple enough for anyone to understand. He argued between what he believed was real information about aliens, while discussing popular falsified evidence. Momo was shocked with each paragraph as it went into detail about unexplained findings and how certain materials found on the planet didn't match what geologists had known for decades, He debunked multiple photos of UFOs, but went into detail on how some could be legitimate. Momo couldn't believe it when she found herself being persuaded by his writing. What was someone of his skill doing writing for a fake magazine?
"Well?" he said triumphantly. "Your face tells me I won."
Momo closed the book. "You almost had me," she admitted.
"Bull!" he snapped. "I can see you smiling!"
"Listen, Occult-kun. I'm gonna admit something." Momo shoved the book back into his arms. "Those gossip articles I write? I hate doing it. My boss keeps assigning me them for whatever stupid reason she has, and it pisses me off. I wanna write something that'll persuade her into letting me actually write something worthwhile and important, like a real journalist."
"I see."
"And you're gonna help me do just that."
"Huh?!"
"I can't write persuasively, but you can. Show me how you do it, okay? And whatever you want out of this, I'll find a way to make it happen. I still owe you for the shirt."
Occult-kun looked at the magazine, then at Momo. With his free hand, he reached for the back of his neck and scratched nervously. "I convinced you?"
Momo rolled her eyes. "Almost. I still don't believe in aliens, but I'm sure you could convince anyone else."
"…Okay, I'll do it."
That was surprisingly easy. Momo expected him to put up a fight considering the amount of sass he threw at her not too long ago. Perhaps he did want something from her, but didn't want to admit it. Normally she would be concerned, but what mattered to her was she was going to learn to be a persuasive writer. She would get that big break she finally desired.
"Alright, then it's a deal! Hold on." Momo smiled nervously. "I'm really bad with names, so, uh, could you remind me what yours was?"
Her new writing partner looked at her blankly. "Huh? You didn't see it when reading my article?"
"Was it there?"
"Yes. It was right under the title. It-" he sighed. "It's fine. My name is Ken Takakura."
Momo almost dropped her umbrella, stunned. Without warning, she snatched the magazine back from this supposed Ken Takakura's arms and flipped back to his article. Her face turned beet red as she slowly read the journalist's name: Ken Takakura. She thought this had to be some sort of joke. This nerd next to her couldn't possibly share the name of her favorite actor. He probably used "Ken Takakura" as a pen name to hide his identity. Unfortunately that wouldn't have made sense, considering how proud the geek was of his work.
"Sorry if I didn't tell you earlier," he continued. "I'm a bit of an awkward fellow."
Momo's heart couldn't take much more. "I'm an awkward fellow" was her favorite line ever spoken by the actor. She tried to speak, yet no words came. Nothing made sense.
"Is something wrong?"
"Uh…"
Momo couldn't believe it. After losing what she thought was her Ken Takakura, the universe heard her pleads and presented her with another. By a cruel twist of fate he just had to be a scrawny occult nerd who could never stand out amongst a crowd. Desperately she tried to calm herself down, but to no avail. Ken Takakura stood next to her. She had just struck a deal with him, and she'd see him more often. She couldn't back down now, not when she finally found someone who could help with her career. His name just happened to be Ken Takakura, that wasn't a big deal.
The gods really did enjoy making Momo suffer for their amusement. By far, this was their greatest prank yet.