Smooth Operator.

18. The Plums

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
THE PLUMS

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"NOT TO WORRY ANYBODY, BUT WE NEED TO COME UP WITH A PLAN," LADYBUG ANNOUNCED TO THE TRAIN CARRIAGE. With sunlight bleeding in through the windows, illuminating the Momonga-themed train car, everybody remaining had gathered together.

A few seats down from the others, Tangerine, Lemon and Black Cat had situated themselves on a four-seater.

Opposite Estela, Lemon's hands atop the table balled into fists, his knuckles whitening with the pressure. His jaw clenched, bloodshot eyes trained on the red stains he'd painted along the table top.

He stood up, turning around to face Ladybug, who stood at the other end of the car. "You shot my brother," he growled, taking intimidating steps toward him. "You shot my brother, you piece of shit!"

But before he could reach Ladybug, a shaggy-looking man, one Estela could recognise from many hours before, pulled himself out of his own seat, separating Lemon from Ladybug. He held an accusatory finger in Lemon's face. "You! You fucking shot me!" He exclaimed, rough Japanese accent hitting his words.

"Yeah, and I should shoot you in the fucking throat next time, see how you fucking like it, yeah?" Lemon shot back, edging forward and pulling himself to his full height. He was quite a few inches taller than the Japanese man, and if Estela were him, she would back down immediately.

Behind their spat, Ladybug tried to get their attention, to no avail. "Hey! Hey! Fellas!" He shouted, trying to raise his voice over their heated argument. He reached to the table in front of him and grabbed hold of some toilet roll they'd stocked up on, aiming it at the arguing men to grab their attention.

From their table, Tangerine and Estela shared a worried glance and rose to their feet to see over the Momonga seats at what was happening.

"When we are so quick to anger, we are slow to understand," Ladybug announced, his tone itching to be calm to soothe the atmosphere as best he could, despite everybody knowing what was soon coming up.

And Lemon was quick to anger, charging at the mousey-haired man with swears and curses directed his way. The Japanese man looped his arms around Lemon's torso, holding him back.

"Hey, hey!" Tangerine piped up, sliding out of the four-seater and stepping down to his brother, gait not the most confident Estela had seen it.

Now four men to be accounted for, the shouts and roughing about was much louder, and much more heated.

After years in this such line of work, Estela knew very well bot to involve yourself, as a woman, in a fight of anger between men. When they're angry, men are feisty and unpredictable. And it's not worth it.

Further down the carriage, a man in grey robes stood to his feet; a man estela hadn't seen before. His face was elderly and aged, but when he spoke, his voice was powerful. "Gentlemen!" He roared, and the bickering came to a halt, all eyes on him.

He pulled himself into the aisle, the huge Momonga mural on the wall behind him acting as some sort of pink halo. His dark eyes roamed over everybody, even Estela, his expression stern.

"A plum does not resent the hungry man, but the farmer who planted the tree," The Elder announced, grip on his walking staff heavy.

A silence hovered over the carriage.

"So he... he resents the farmer?" Ladybug repeated, a tinge of confusion present in his voice as he leaned against a Momonga seat.

"So plums have fuckin' resentments now?" This time Lemon piped up, shaking his head as if this quote were ridiculous.

"The fuck is that even supposed to mean?" Tangerine spoke harshly, eyes squinted in bewilderment.

The Elder sighed, clearly exasperated. "The White Death is the farmer," he explained forcefully, his voice shutting down the whisper of any other.

Ladybug nodded slowly. "Ahh, I get it. We're the plums, right? We're the plums?"

"It don't make fuckin' sense!" Lemon shouted, eyes bulging out of his head. "Why are you motherfuckers using metaphors!? This cunt shot my fucking brother!"

Now Ladybug turned back to Lemon, his own quote seemingly leaving his head entirely. "Well, he's not dead, is he? He's right behind you!" He gestured wildly to the red-stained man in blue.

"It's not about the bloody outcome, it's about the bloody principle—"

"You shot my son!" The Elder roared once more, pointing at lemon. His stare on the fruit was deadly, almost owning Medusa's qualities.

At this, Lemon's expression fell. His lips clamped shut, fists balling. behind him, Tangerine took a step closer and lay a hand against his back in an act of comfort.

The Elder's lips turned up into a soft, satisfied smile. "We prepare together," he offered to the train carriage, "or we die alone."

Ladybug nodded, looking around the car. "You see, guys, that's exactly what I was trying to say."

"Don't ruin this before it's even fuckin' started," Tangerine piped up, failing to contain the growl in his voice as he spoke to the man who'd shot him.