Psycho Pass: All Alone With You

Drift! Chapter 8

 A sleepless night spent in the Los Angeles county jail and then a morning spent with a sociopath left Kogami thoroughly exhausted. After a long, hot shower he was laying bare-chested on a sofa in Agent Iazzetti's home. Enjoying the silence, he pulled the damp towel over his eyes and took a deep breath. It was the first time in the last 36 hours that he was able to let his guard down and relax. A cup of caramel latte was sitting on the coffee table beside him, but he was too tired to even think about simple pleasures.

Back at home, MWPSB cases were difficult enough on the surface without pretenses. Being buried so deeply undercover was a terribly trying experience. While Kogami was enjoying the rigors of the challenge, he was forced to admit that it certainly took a mental and physical toll.

With one eye partially opened, he caught movement over the back of the sofa and grinned. He had missed seeing the girl's face, but he had not missed the face of Tigger, even as the blur of orange and black vanished over the edge. Kogami pretended to be unaware, yawning loudly, and stretched his arms over his head. Using the towel to rub his damp hair, he waited for the attack.

In a fairly decent Australian accent, Phoenix whispered, "The Japanese Wolfhound is rarely seen outside of the mysterious island it calls home. A hunter can recognize it by the faint smell of cigarettes, Armor All Tire Cleaner, and Irish Spring soap." Unable to contain herself, she started giggling. "The Japanese Wolfhound never travels in a pack because they are solid bad asses in a fight, so it's best to use total surprise in order to capture them."

With a leap, Phoenix came flying over the back of the sofa. Kogami barely had time to tense his abdominal muscles before the 10-year old and her backpack came crashing down on top of him. He growled fiercely and held her arms against her body to keep her from slipping away.

"Japanese Wolfhound, huh? Well, have you ever heard of the American Cotton Finger?"

Phoenix stopped her struggling and giggling to stare up at him. "The American Cotton Finger? Are they dangerous?"

"Only if you're a stuffed animal. The American Cotton Finger is known for abducting stuffed animals and keeping them in a pouch, usually on their backs so they can't get away. But they have a secret weakness."

"What's the secret weakness?"

"They're terribly ticklish."

Phoenix stiffened in alarm. "Ko! Ko, don't do it! Don't—" Phoenix burst into a fit of hysterical giggling as Kogami poked her repeatedly in the ribs. "Kogami, stop! Please!"

"Hey, you two!" Nysa called from the adjoining kitchen. "No horseplay in the living room! Besides, breakfast is ready. Come and get it."

"Last one there is a pinto with a busted glass tailpipe!" Phoenix raced to the kitchen.

Before Kogami had time to grab his latte and go to the counter, the 10-year old had returned to the livingroom with her plate and a large glass of chocolate milk. Perched at the coffee table with a pile of chocolate chip pancakes and scrambled eggs, she pressed the remote in search of car shows on the television.

"You really didn't need to do this," Kogami said, his stomach growling.

"Considering what you've been through in the last 24 hours, it's the least I can do," Nysa replied. "I see the sweat pants are a good fit." She reached into the dryer and pulled out a red t-shirt. "Give this a try. Hope it doesn't still smell like mothballs. Most of my brother's stuff is in storage now."

Kogami pulled the t-shirt over his head and torso. "Certainly smells better than that holding cell."

"Can't believe McNeill paid your bail and then picked you up. What a bastard!"