Chapter Text
Souda had told him when the gang left that they had just spoken to the leader, Mondo Oowada. Kiyotaka was more focused on how almost the entire gang had just walked out, how he could not have done something—
n(Kiyotaka had thought that was kind of an exaggeration.) And with that, they had left the store.
Kiyotaka ends up working the late shift days later, running through the scene in his mind. He keeps on remembering the boy-the leader.
He’s thinking about him when the door ding-a-lings.
It’s raining outside. The sky is dark and the too-small streets are dark velvet and light spots. The mists rise and fall like breathing.
Kiyotaka switches his attention from the weather to the customer. He shouldn’t be so lax-something could get stolen! Kiyotaka calls out to the customer. “If you have any questions, please ask!”
The customer nods briefly in response, then heads into an aisle where Kiyotaka can’t see them. He looks at the monitor on the display to keep track of them. In this neighbourhood, you can’t take your eyes away from a person for a second or they’ll steal the clothes right off your back.
Something about this customer seems familiar though. Kiyotaka leans closer to get a better look.
Wet, two-toned hair. It’s almost reddish on top, and a darker brown on the underside. Kiyotaka thinks it’s about Souda’s length, but…nicer looking. The customer-Kiyotaka can tell it’s a boy now-has a towel around his neck. He’s just wearing a t-shirt. (Kiyotaka is dumbfounded for a moment. How can the boy be so dry when it’s pouring outside?) He seems familiar somehow.
He mulls this over is his brain while the boy picks some soda and strides over to the register. “Hello! Enjoying your day?” He smiles enthusiastically.
The boy looks at him from underneath his bangs, then rubs the towel over his hair, scrubbing it back and forth. The resulting spray of water lands all over Kiyotaka. “Excuse me?!” Kiyotaka wipes the water from his face, indignant.
“Sorry. Still haven’t dried my hair all the way.”
“…Be more careful next time!”
The boy rolls his eyes.
Kiyotaka bags the soda for him. As he’s tying up the bag ever-so-carefully, he finally places the boy. “You’re that gang leader, aren’t you? I remember you. Your gang-”Kiyotaka briefly thinks about stopping but ignores that. “-just-just-left without paying! Are you condoning stealing in your gang, Oowada?!”
Mondo Oowada bristles. Kiyotaka can practically see the boy’s hackles rising. “You lookin’ for a fight, kid?”
“You can’t just let them steal like that, that’s wrong-“
“Don’t act like you can tell me how to lead my gang!”
Oowada’s hand is fisted up in Kiyotaka’s shirt. His wet wet hair is pressing up against Kiyotaka’s forehead. Kiyotaka bares his teeth at Oowada, hisses at him. (Maybe he’ll be unnerved enough to let go of me.)
He has no such luck, though. Oowada jerks him forward, over the counter, even closer. “You think you got that hot shit,[[boy ya blessed let me feel up on yo chest]] huh?”
Kiyotaka isn’t bothered. He can probably fight. It’s not like he hasn’t before. “Let me go,” he snarls. This boy needs to leave, maybe Kiyotaka could kick him out, as he sure deserves that—
He’s on the floor before he can finish his thought. Something slams into his side and Kiyotaka instinctively curls up. “Tch,” Oowada scoffs. “Get up.”
Kiyotaka bares his teeth at Oowada. “Make me.”
Something flashes in Oowada’s (stupidly pretty, he can’t help but think) eyes. Then he grabs his soda and abruptly leaves. (Kiyotaka notices that he only goes into the building next door.)
Kiyotaka stands up, presses the bit of skin where Oowada kicked him. He hisses when he brushes over a particularly tender spot, and sighs. Souda is going to be so worried when he comes in tomorrow.