Pako plopped down onto the bed beside me, her weight making the springs creak. Her eyes, still wide with lingering indignation from Perman's dismissal, fixed on me. "So, Mitsuo," she began, her tone shifting from outrage to something more accusatory, "why didn't Perman come to the award ceremony?"
My mind raced. Act indifferent. The robot's last whispered advice echoed in my ears. It was hard to pull off with Pako staring holes through me, but I tried. I kept my face as blank as possible, pretending to be utterly absorbed in tracing the patterns on my bedspread.
"Why are you so mad about it, Pako?" I asked, feigning casual curiosity, my voice as level as I could make it. "It's not like you had anything to do with the award."
Her eyes widened, clearly surprised by my directness. My new smarts, courtesy of the robot, were definitely kicking in. The old Mitsuo would have stammered, apologized, and probably made some flimsy excuse about a sudden tummy ache. But now, a flicker of genuine logic surprised even me. Why was she so mad?
"What do you mean I have nothing to do with it?!" she shrieked, jumping up from the bed, her hands on her hips. "You told me about it at the last minute! I had to rush over there, and I was late! Everyone was looking at me! They probably thought I was lazy or something!"
My internal monologue, a mixture of the robot's logic and my own dawning annoyance, kicked in. Really? That's her big problem? Not the actual terrorist situation, but her tardiness to a ceremony?
"Well, if that's the case," I said, a slight, almost imperceptible smirk playing on my lips, "then you shouldn't have contacted Perman in the first place, should you? I was going to send Wooby anyway. It's not like I was planning on going himself anyway."
Her jaw dropped. "Send Wooby?! How could he send Wooby to take an award from Miss Sumire?! That would be incredibly disrespectful! She's a huge celebrity, Perman! You can't just send some monkey to pick up an award from her!"
I sighed inwardly. Okay, I needed a good excuse too. Something that would appeal to Pako's dramatic sensibilities, and also explain away Perman's apparent rudeness without completely ruining my reputation. The memory of the bank vault flashed in my mind – the bullets, the sheer terror. It was a good angle.
I let out a shaky breath, forcing a slight tremor into my voice. "Look, Pako," I said, meeting her gaze, trying to look a little worn out, a little… haunted. "The truth is, what happened at that bank... it was really intense. I... I almost died in there. It was scarier than anything I've ever faced." I paused, letting my words hang in the air. "I'm still a little shaken up, honestly. I just... I just needed to rest. Mentally. Physically. That's why Perman couldn't go. He just needed to be alone for a bit, to recover. Even heroes get scared sometimes, you know?"
Pako's eyes softened instantly. Her anger visibly deflated, replaced by a sudden wave of concern. "Oh, Mitsuo!" she exclaimed, her voice thick with sympathy. She actually sat back down, reaching out to pat my shoulder gently. "Is that really true? Oh, Perman! I had no idea! I'm so sorry! I thought you were just being rude!"
I nodded sadly, letting out another deep sigh. "Yeah. It's... it's still pretty fresh."
And just like that, she believed me. All it took was a little bit of genuine emotion, and a touch of well-placed drama. It was astonishingly easy.