Smooth Operator.

09. Momonga

CHAPTER NINE
MOMONGA

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EACH CARRIAGE IN THE SHINKANSEN HAD SOMETHING SPECIAL TO OFFER, LIKE MOMONGA, FOR EXAMPLE. And Estela stared around in awe at the fun decorations and blue-purple lighting that filled the train car.

"Now, what the fuck is this?" Tangerine muttered from behind her, phone in hand as they stepped down the aisle.

"It's Momonga."

"I can fuckin' read, thanks. I just mean, what is it?"

Estela reached over to an empty seat, where a Momomon plushie sat alone. She held it up, inspecting its white body and mauve accents, darkened by the strange lighting in the carriage. "An alien, do you think?"

Beside her, Tangerine had approached to scrutinise the plush toy, eyes narrowed.

"Oh, what the fuck," he muttered with a sigh, taking a step back. "The fuck am I doing, looking at a fucking Momonga..."

He tapped through his phone, jaw slack in concentration, tongue peeking out between his teeth for a moment.

The woman pushed the plush into her other hand and turned around to peer over Tangerine's broad shoulder at his mobile, her chin lingering against the material of his navy waistcoat. "You seem determined," she stated, glancing over at him.

The combination of the all-around indigo lighting and the direct white light emitting from Tangerinés phone created gorgeous shadows, which danced along his face in violets. His straight nose stood out in the light, as if it were lit up by the angels for her to admire, and she noticed the way it turned up at the slightest angle at the tip of it.

"Lemon told me," Tangerine said after a moment, pacing out his response as he tapped through his phone, "that the glasses prick took his phone."

Black Cat's eyes flickered down from Tangerine's glowing side profile, to his phone screen, where he tapped onto a location app.

"Oh, I see!" Estela grinned, backing away from the man's shoulder to smile up at him. "If he has Lemon's phone, and you have its location..."

"He's led us right to him," Tangerine finished, looking up from his phone as the app began to load to meet Estela's eyes.

As Tangerine peered down, the ghost of a soft smile lingered upon his lips. His eyes took in Estela's smile, her plump lips pulled into a grin, the gloss smudged slightly down to her chin, though it didn't look bad at all.

The way the lighting softened her complexion began to bring out the more noticeable features of her face, such as her almond eyes and the dark kohl that lined them, and her plump lips, glistening in the violet, and the bruise which began to blossom underneath her skin.

qin his hand, his mobile buzzed, and Tangerine ripped his eyes away from the woman before him. On the screen, a white map appeared. An icon of a lemon emoji bobbed up and down at a point on the train, a little further up.

Again, Tangerine looked up at the woman before him, and flipped his phone around to show her the man's location. "We've got him."

Both faces brightened, a horrific combination of relief and bloodlust.

"Well, come on, then," Estela grinned, nudging the man opposite her with the back of her hand, urging him to continue following her. Without another word, though her face was still bright, she turned on her heel and resumed her venture up the Shinkansen to pounce on The Ladybug.

Behind her, Tangerine's feet padded along the carpeting, almost matching her pace.

"Think about it," Estela began after a few moments of walking, filling up the space after their excitement had fizzled out. "As soon as we find this guy, we get his case, whichever one he has, and hand it over to The White Death, and then we can get the fuck out of here."

A soft chuckle came from under the man's breath. "Sounds bloody wonderful, but I wouldn't get our hopes up too soon. You know what this job is like."

His lips tugged into a lopsided grimace. Too many things had gone wrong on this mission so far, and he wasn't at all interested in jinxing it any more than it already had been.

First of all, their briefcase got swapped out for a fake, then the fake one got stolen, and now neither are to be found. Second of all, the son of The White Death, one of the most powerful cartel bosses on the planet, whom he and Lemon were supposed to be transporting back to his father, was bleeding out of his god damn eye sockets with no trace of a perpetrator or any bloody answers. Currently there were no 'third of all's, but if this went badly, there would be.

God, he could only imagine what this guy had up his sleeves; bazooka? Pet lion? War tank parked somewhere in First Class? Any of those Tangerine betted he could put up a good fight against. The worst thing he could imagine had to be this glasses guy having no clue where either suitcase was.

But, pushing the negative, hypothetical possibilities to the back of his mind, Tangerine continued to trudge up the middle aisle of the Shinkansen.