Chapter Text
"Amami-chan, what are we doing?" Ouma suddenly asked, making Amami turn his head from the movie screen, mouth still full of cheese balls as he mumbled out a, "Huh?"
Ouma reached for the remote in between himself and Amami and paused the movie they were watching. The Bee Movie can wait; Ouma's existential crisis can't.
"We're in our last year of high school, and... well, look at us! This is pitiful!" Ouma announced, loosely gesturing to the abandoned pop tart boxes and game controllers. "You think so? I kinda like our movie nights, Ouma." Amami replied, wiping cheesy dust from his lips onto the sleeve of his shirt.
Amami and Ouma always had movie nights on Friday evenings. Since it was the very start of spring break, they were crashing at Ouma’s house until they had to go back to school. They'd eat some food and watch a movie, and then decide if they wanted to stay inside and play video games or wreak havoc upon the neighborhood. That was how they made the discovery that egg yolk doesn't wash out of clothes—no matter how hard you scrub. The two boys decided to stop doing bad things to people’s houses and cars (and occasionally children) when the police were called. Amami only regretted it a little, since the people they did bad things to were total asswipes.
"Doing this is really fun since all my ideas are pretty great, but it's getting kinda... hmm..."
"Bland?" Amami suggested, fiddling with his ear piercings.
"Yes! Bland!" Ouma snapped his fingers and grinned at the green-haired boy. "We need adventure, Amami-chan! I've seen Hachi so many times I don't even cry anymore! Luckily for you, I know just where to find it!"
Amami smiled at this—he’d felt that their movie nights were getting a bit plain as well, but he still enjoyed Ouma's company—until he realized Ouma was thinking of something a lot more sinister.
"Let's rob a gas station," Ouma said, lilac eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. Amami was just hoping they’d do something like invite over Momota or maybe walk through the neighborhood, but that wasn’t the case.
"Uh, Ouma, I'm pretty sure that's illegal," Amami said, watching Ouma stand up from the couch they had been sitting on and run into the kitchen, shuffling through cabinets in search of something.
"Relax, Amami-chan! We're not gonna get arrested." A big industrial keg was placed onto the counter by Ouma. "We're just gonna hit up the slushie machine two or three times. That's all!"
Amami decided that, really, Ouma could've suggested worse. Maybe it'd be fun? Even if they did get caught, Ouma could lie his way out of anything. He's lied for petty, little things, such as getting a free kids meal even though he's eighteen, and he's also lied for larger things, like convincing his parents that huge party he threw was just him and Amami, not the whole entire school. Ouma had a record of lying and getting away with things.
They walked to a nearby gas station since Amami didn't do so well with cars. “Here’s the plan: I’ll steal the slushie, you’ll be the distraction. Now, Amami-chan, your job is essential to this plan if we want to get away with it! You can make no mistakes, okay? Do your best, soldier!” Ouma declared, placing a hand on Amami’s shoulder.
“Well, what do I distract the employee with?” Amami asked, opening the door to the gas station and hearing a tired, “Hello”, welcome them into the store. A mix of yellow and white light shone down from the fixtures on the ceiling, and faint pop music could be heard playing from a speaker system. One tired employee was the only other person in sight, and Amami felt some sympathy for them, as he had worked a few tiring graveyard shifts at a nearby 24/7 pizza place.
“Anything! Tell them you have butt hemorrhoids for all I care! Just make sure that employee doesn’t see me!” Ouma whispered. Amami ruffled Ouma’s hair and then walked away.
Ouma watched as Amami walked up to the employee closest to the slushie machines, briefly hearing an, “Excuse me, do you have a moment to talk about our lord and savior Jesus Christ?” come from that direction. He quickly took off and unzipped the backpack he was wearing, and pulled out the keg. There were twenty-six possible flavors to choose from, so Ouma decided he'd pick a little bit of everything, no matter how hideous. This would be the cocktail of the century! He would be a legend, the hero that everyone deserved and needed!
Amami seemed to be doing great at pretending to be one of Jehovah's Witnesses, and the only reason he knew exactly what to say was because this wasn't the first time he had to pretend to be one.
Ouma was done in a minute or two, filling the keg to the brim with your classic flavors like cherry, and your atrocious ones like taco shell or chicken wing. The salad flavor isn't even that bad, give it a chance! He flipped the lid back on the keg and shoved it in his backpack, making sure no one had seen him in the process of doing so. Luckily, there was really no one else inside the gas station at this time.
Amami was still forcing the poor employee into a prayer circle at the time, so Ouma figured he'd grab a couple boxes of Zebra Cakes and a bag of those puffy Cheetos before hitting the road. He slowly shoved them in his backpack, careful not to arouse suspicion with the crinkling of the plastic packaging. Once Amami was done, he returned to Ouma and the two walked out together, trying very hard to restrain themselves from bursting into laughter. They had done it! They had committed a very illegal act, no matter how little they took, but had still gotten away with it! What a story this would be; they would surely be the talk of the town! There were no sensors to pick up barcodes on unpurchased items so just a few more steps and they would be home free!
"Hey, kid, lemme see your bag for a second." Amami and Ouma both turned around to see the tired-looking employee standing in behind them. “Why? It just has my school stuff in it. I’ve been studying for tests like crazy!” Ouma lied. Amami tried not to McFreaking lose it right there, purely because Ouma sounded so honest and innocent when he said those words. Ouma had never studied for a single test in his life.
“Just let me see it. If you really only have papers and books in there, then there should be no problem with me checking it out.”
Ouma grimaced—he was hoping their cashier would be too tired to really pay attention, much less care if Ouma stole stuff. Amami and Ouma both looked at each other, at the employee, and at each other again, and did the only thing they could think of.
They turned around and bolted through the doors, eyes wide as they ran through the parking lot. The employee ran outside after them, hopping into a car.
"Have no fear, Amami-chan! I can get us out of this!" Ouma declared, shooting Amami a grin. Amami sighed, grasping on to Ouma's hand so they could stick together. Ouma's hands were warm, in contrast to his milky white skin that looked like… uh, milk? Really clean sheets? There’s not a lot of milky white things in the world.
They kept running down the road, occasionally weaving in and out of the trees nearby to try and throw off whoever was chasing them. Ouma looked at Amami, and then to a house with a large backyard that was nearby. They both nodded to each other and then ran in that direction, hopping over the fence, separating their hands.
Amami didn't like that feeling of separation for some reason. Maybe he was just so worried about getting arrested, he didn't want to get caught alone. If he went down, Ouma would go down with him. That's what best friends do, after all.
"Ouma! My shirt is caught!" Amami yelled, tugging on his shirt that was trapped in between the chain-link fence. Ouma placed his hands on his hips and grinned like a cat with cream. "Well, you should've worn your second favorite shirt."
"Ouma!" Amami shouted, rolling his eyes. Ouma ran over to Amami, helping him pull his shirt out. They both ran over to a large tree, Amami climbed up the tree first, and then Ouma threw the backpack up towards him. Then Ouma climbed up, registering the sounds of a car pull into the driveway.
"I don’t think we’re in the clear just yet…” Amami whispered, letting Ouma grab onto his hand and pull himself up a couple branches. The tree looked sturdy at first, but now Amami feared the branch he was sitting on would snap underneath him.
"We'll be fine! We just have to wait out here for a couple minutes. It'll be fun!" Amami sighed, feeling Ouma let go of his hand once more. "Okay, okay fine. I trust you, Ouma." Amami swallowed and licked his lips nervously, frantically looking to the back door of the house, ignoring Ouma's “Oh, how sweet of you, Amami-chan!” If that door opened and someone walked outside, it's game over.
"It's 1 am. I highly doubt someone will wake up from their sleep just to help some crazy guy wearing a 7/11 visor." Ouma said, laughing. Eventually, Amami started laughing too, and they both just sat there, up in some random tree, laughing so much that no noise was coming out. What Ouma said wasn't even that funny, but the conundrum they found themselves stuck in was utterly hilarious. This was going down in the history books. They stayed up in the tree for about fifteen minutes until they were sure the employee was gone, munching on the food Ouma had stolen. Amami guessed it was probably... twenty dollars’ worth of stolen snacks? He didn't regret a thing though because dipping a Cheeto in slushie proved to be one of the best things Amami had ever tasted.
"Did we literally just rob a gas station and get away with it?" Amami couldn't keep the grin off his face as they hopped down the tree, quickly climbing back over the fence. Amami was careful not to get his baggy shirt caught this time.
"Yep!" Ouma giggled, unwrapping a Zebra Cake. "All in a day's work for Kokichi Ouma! We should do this again!" Ouma declared, finishing off half of the Zebra Cake in a second. Amami liked the sound of that word. Again.
"We definitely should."
They sat down on the roof, taking sips of the slushie and trying to figure out what flavor they had just tasted. They'd never done anything like this before. Their Friday nights consisted of them playing video games and gossiping about their classmates. Ouma was relatively close to Iruma and Momota, so he always got the best gossip from them, which he then relayed to Amami. Not that their gossip nights were boring or anything, but only so many confused teens can get arrested for illegal drug possession. By the end of their final year, most of the drama had died down, and no one was really doing anything stupid or irrational anymore.
Save for Amami and Ouma.
"Hmm... Watermelon with... a hint of bubblegum and pudding." Amami said, wiping a bit of the slushie from his face. The brisk night air blew in his face, making his green hair spin and twirl in the breeze. White flecks of light illuminated the sky above them, looking like snowflakes frozen in the air. Amami felt so close to the stars while sitting on this roof, and why that was Amami didn’t know.
"Chocolate pudding or vanilla?" Ouma asked him.
"...Vanilla." Ouma looked down into the keg, looking at the different slushie colors to decide if Amami was correct.
"You're on a roll, Amami-chan!" Ouma announced, taking a sip from the straw that was poked in the top of the keg.
"Honestly, half of my blood is probably just artificial flavoring at this point," Amami said, brushing a strand of green hair from his eyes and watching Ouma lick his lips.
"That was pure taco shell. One hundred percent." Ouma said, making a gagging motion with his finger.
"How close do you think we are to food poisoning right now?" Amami questioned, cocking his head to the side and letting out a breathy chuckle.
"I can already feel the tapeworm!" Ouma grinned, standing up and jumping down from the roof onto a small, second-floor terrace. In their freshman year, they had timidly climbed up on the roof together, only to immediately run back inside and wonder if they destroyed the ceiling of the room below where they once stood. Now, it had become their designated place to hang out, other than the couch. They'd just sit there, looking up at the stars and planes spanning across the sky, talking about whatever random thing crossed their mind.
"You coming, Amami-chan?" Ouma asked, hand on the door. Amami jumped down in response, and the two made their way downstairs.
"Today was fun, Ouma. My shirt is destroyed, but I regret nothing." Amami said, turning on the Wii U. Ouma was about to get crushed in Mario Kart for the fifth time that month. Mario Kart was a ruthless thing, that could destroy the best of friendships and make people turn against each other for all eternity.
Amami knew that would never happen with him and Ouma. They trust each other room much.
"Well, that's good because we're doing it tomorrow!" The purple-haired boy plopped down on the ground and pulled out some Wii U remotes from a drawer, each one covered in numerous stickers and tapes, given their own special flair. One of them had orange juice caked all around the arrow pad, so it was virtually useless.
"Huh? Where are we going this time?" They couldn't go to the gas station again; they probably couldn't ever go back. Thank god the place was so run down there were no cameras.
"It's a surprise!" Ouma grinned mischievously. "Now let's play rainbow road!"
Tomorrow was going to be interesting, to say the least.
And then Amami beat Ouma at Mario Kart and destroyed his innocence, what was left of it anyway.