Eighteen

Kurosaki Katsuo had been on remand for three days, eaten cheap microwavable curry and rice for lunch and dinner, and the chicken still tasted like cardboard. He should consider himself lucky. He knows that. He and his associates had been arrested and taken to four different police stations to avoid them talking to each other, and none, to his knowledge, had been sent to an actual jail. No, instead, they were nuisances filling up one of the small cells that lined local stations. One less space to use as a drunk tank. 

There was no privacy in the police station, which was a gift and a curse. He'd found himself talking to the wrinkled old bat, Honda about crochet, embroidery and decoupage for hours, just because she seemed just as lonely as him. If only the Lionfish could see him now, sitting in a cell, wearing the ugly station sweats, holding a ball of yarn while the receptionist knitted away. What a fall from grace. 

He hadn't even started to make money from his exploits. Was that better or worse? If he had nothing to gain, couldn't he play innocent with a sad, vulnerable facade? Would a judge or jury believe it after the smear campaign Ueno had launched? They'd played her interview and subsequent press conference on full blast in the poky station, letting Katsuo hear every insult she threw his way.

"Oh, Kurosaki, sweetheart," Honda said, her voice cracking as she hobbled from the kitchen to the reception desk, "Someone left you a letter." 

The envelope was black with a fancy red sticker across the front. It had the previous day's date stricken on the front. Clearly, the postal service had prioritised giving a hated kid every last shred of hate mail wishing him dead for what he'd done. 

'Katsuo.

You are receiving this letter because you are at a crossroads in your life. Before now, you hadn't a chance of listening to anything I had to say, because you were so caught up in yourself. You're probably wondering who this is, and how they have the audacity to speak to you like this, and be so brazen. My name is Kurosaki Katsuo and I am writing you this letter from the future. 

Your classmates have been having letters like this too. That's why they were glaring at you, or chatting shit behind your back. They knew what you did, what you were going to do because their Future Selves told them. In my reality, Kobayashi Hikaru was ostracised at school for Sayuri's kidnapping. Notice how that didn't happen this time around because guilty consciences will have told the other students at Hanagawa High School that it wasn't him, it was you. It was only a matter of time until you'd be caught. 

You have a choice going forward, to be a better person, embrace the wrong you did and use it to help yourself and others expose the people you work for, serve your time, enter witness protection and do something for yourself as a free man. I refused that offer and took dozens of beatings in the slammer for it. If you are sent out your town then watch out for the booty bandit. I probably shouldn't be warning you that you're going to get the shit beaten out of you, but that's a fact of your life now, as a criminal. You made your bed. Lay in it. 

Do better. Your future is yours for the taking,

Katsuo'

"Who was that from?" Honda asked, holding out a packet of rich tea biscuits to him. Katsuo reached through the bars and took one. 

"A well-wisher, I guess. Someone who wanted me to use this fork in the road to better myself." 

Honda shrugged, picking up her knitting needles, clinking them together, "You're young, you have time to be better, you know?" 

Katsuo shrugged, his gaze flickering to the jumper on his arm, his scar was covered, gang affiliation hidden underneath a cotton jersey. He sighed and leaned his head against the bars, "I don't even know how to go about it." 

"When the time comes, it'll come to you, Kurosaki," Honda said. She reached through the bars and handed him the yarn to unspool as she knitted. He sighed and closed his eyes to the rhythm of her needles click-clacking against each other. 

It was Sunday. The last day they had to ensure Kikiyo didn't make a decision she'd regret and the pressure was on. Mamoru had stationed himself at the mall, in case Kikiyo went for a haircut or something to make her look older. It also had good transport links in case she went somewhere else. Mariah was on social media, attempting to work out how to bust a pimp without getting his girl arrested. It was sounding, from her constant double messaging, and heavy use of exclamation points that she was either excited or frustrated. Kaho wasn't paying too much attention. Instead, she was on literal, physical, Kikiyo Watch. She'd taken Himiko to the play park across the street from Kikiyo's house, and while her little sister played with some of her school friends on the jungle gym, Kaho's eyes were trained on the front door of her friend's house. She'd missed two calls from Tatsuya yesterday, having stayed at Mamoru's house until late. He was supposed to meet up with her later. Though, she was sure having a nine-year-old third wheeling their date wasn't what Tatsuya had in mind. But, needs must. She sighed. 

Kikiyo had left for work three hours ago, and Ryota had passed the convenience store three times on his afternoon run, once before he started, once as part of his circuit and once on his way home. It was Kaho's job to make sure nobody creepy was lingering outside her house, and ensure that everyone knew if she went straight home after her shift. It would be over soon. Since she was a part-timer, her longest shifts were four hours, and her shortest were two hours. She could get back at any moment, before getting ready for her next job at the cafe. 

In the three hours Kaho had been watching Kikiyo's front door, nobody had left the house, not even to go to the store. Kaho hadn't seen either of Kikiyo's parents, Ichigo or their siblings, it was like they hadn't dared make a sound. Were they in trouble? 

She sighed. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, a text from Tatsuya. 

'How about we go for dinner tonight instead? This science homework is kicking my ass." 

Kaho sighed, 'Can we go to the café down by the station?' 

'If you want, I guess? But I was thinking of udon personally'

'Great! The cafe has great banana bread! Can't wait! Love you xoxo'

All of Kaho's homework was done, and she'd managed to get some drawing done. Himiko's friends Izumi and Sachiko were at the park with their mothers, meaning Kaho could do her schoolwork while Izumi and Sachiko's mothers watched the three kids. There were perks of being an older sibling 'helping her mum out'. She hoped neither Izumi or Sachiko's mums would ask hers why Kaho took Himiko out, and found out it had actually been Kaho's idea. That would be an awkward conversation with her mother. 

Kaho sighed and ran a hand through her hair. Her phone buzzed again. Two simultaneous texts. One was Ryota confirming Kikiyo was on the move, and heading in the direction of her house. The second was from Tatsuya. 

'We need to talk.'